Page 72 of The Wolfing Hour
And blood. Alotof blood.
Squelching, shivery chunks had skidded halfway across the street, but most of it covered the dirt, the staircase, Ronan, the two wolves, and Miles.
“Ahhhhh,” the truthseeker shrieked. “Get it off me!”
“Why were you so close? Wait, were you trying to sneak up on him? You honestly thought the right time to ambush an angry alpha wolf was when he was raging at the guy who hurt hismate?” I let the word sit on my tongue. Smiled a little as I rolled it around my mouth.
Mate.
Miles cast a hateful glance at me. Blood, fat, and bits of canine viscera speckled him from head to foot. “Shut up.”
The wolf-shifter Ronan had just explosively forced to human form shivered in the dirt, hissing and whimpering as it coated his naked skin.
“His flesh seems a little sensitive,” I said.
Ronan gave me a barely perceptible shake of his head, and the sides of his oversized mouth lifted into a smile. “Like the skin beneath a bad sunburn,” he responded then glanced at Miles dismissively. “He’ll be disoriented for a couple of days. Take him away before I kill him.”
“Don’t come near me. I quit,” the wolf croaked, as he pushed to his feet. “You and this bitch can kiss my?—”
Whomp.
Ronan spun around, leg straight, foot extended. The kick caught Mr. Clawsy in the chest and sent him flying. He slammed into the wall beside the stairs, hung in place for a couple seconds, then faceplanted on the cement.
The other wolves whined, again showing throat.
“Go,” Ronan commanded.
They broke free of whatever hold had been keeping them in place and dashed to the injured man. One shifted to hybrid, just enough to enable her to rise to her feet. She slung the battered man onto her shoulder firefighter style. She fled, the other wolf at her heels.
Mr. Clawsy’s moans echoed down the lonely section of street. Again, I hoped we were alone. It was rare to see humans around the pub, but it wasn’t impossible.
“I’m not here to harm you, wolf.” Miles’s tone was laced with the arrogance of a person who thought it was his job to take control of the situation. “The mission of our organization has nothing to do with shapeshifters, only demons.”
Slowly, as if he couldn’t be bothered to expend any energy to deal with this bothersome flea on a dog’s rump, Ronan set his fearsome attention on Miles. “Approach her in this way again, and I will make it my sole purpose in life to see you dead.”
Whoa. This man. It was all I could do not to fan myself.
“Miles threatened me, Ida, and the entire town. As I mentioned before you embarrassed his crew so thoroughly, he thinks I know where Mason is, which is strange since until he called to threaten me, I had no idea the wolf was missing.”
“She doesn’t know where Hartman is,” Ronan said.
Miles swiped a hand down his face and flicked his fingers to rid himself of the wolf’s blood. If he’d been a nice person, Iwould’ve cast a spell to get rid of the goop, but Miles was a bully and undeserving of the expenditure of magic.
“I have it on good authority that she does.”
“Nope,” I said. “Read me with your truthy vibes or whatever it is you do. I give you permission.”
He seemed annoyed but did as I asked. I knew when he was done, because he cursed under his breath.
“You said Mason has been out of reach for forty-eight hours?” I looked at Ronan. “How long has Rory been missing?”
“They can’t be sure, but probably around twelve hours.”
“Seems coincidental that they both disappeared so close together. Do you think Mason might have a problem with putting a silver bullet into a security guard’s head?”
“Yes,” Miles and Ronan said.
Ronan frowned. Slow-blinked his glowing golden eyes. “You’re in luck, Truthseeker Miles. It appears we have a shared enemy, which gives us an aligned purpose.”
