Page 73 of Soul of the Chaos

27

SHOOTING THE BREEZE

Grimm

I claimed a stool in our clubhouse bar and the shifters on either side of me tilted their necks and vacated the seats nearby, in deference to the dangerous rumble in my chest. Yeah, my wolf was still pissed. He’d wanted to end that creep or at least fuck him up so bad he could never spew hateful things about our mate ever again.

Snickerdoodle fetched my favorite beer. Then, after taking a look at my face, she placed a napkin, a glass and poured out a healthy dose of the good stuff, too. I gave her a grateful nod and took my medicine. Burned like a motherfucker on the way down but at least it reminded me I was still alive.

“Doodle, mind fetching my dinner?”

“I got you, sweetheart,” she sent me a wink and sauntered over to the kitchen.

The sweetbutt wasn’t wearing her usual sky high heels so I cocked my head at her curiously as she returned with a plate piled high with ribs and mashed potatoes and not much else. I sent a pointed look at her strange footwear.

Not that I minded what she wore on her feet, but the girls round here sure seemed to like the elevation and our boys never minded the perks.

She smirked and leaned over the bar, cocking a conspiratorial finger to draw me closer. The move also meant she was giving me the full view, one I wouldn’t usually mind checking out. Tonight, though, my eyes never left her face. There was only one rack in this clubhouse I wanted to ogle.

Snickerdoodle’s eyebrows scrunched in confusion. We’d enjoyed a roll in the sheets a time or two, neither of us looking for anything serious. Given the pull of the Chaos, she clearly hadn’t expected much resistance. I held her eye politely, waiting for her to pick up what I was laying down.

With a sigh, she stood back up and took to wiping down the bar. “We didn’t want to trigger any of the girls,” she explained with a shrug. “So we’re all wearing sneaks. Well, our group is.”

I knew what that meant.

Popcorn and her friends were good girls, helped out with the club, ran things when we were gone. Most of their group weren't looking for mates or to be old ladies, but they also weren't expecting handouts, either. They liked to pull their weight.

The club girls had a job to do and the sweetbutts got to hang around ‘cause they were easy pussy or dick. The Soul Reapers prided themselves on being equal opportunity bastards. In exchange, our sweetbutts got fed, housed and protected from packs who weren’t real educated in matters of consent.

Though the general idea was that sweetbutts were around for easy access, my men never touched a person—sweetbutt or not—who wasn’t in the mood. Or they had me or one of my boys to contend with.

And, while our old ladies and club girls were pack, most sweetbutts weren’t. Technically. Oh, there were a few who had gained respect and influence, of course. But the rest didn’t get to make demands or have a say in how things were run.

That’s where shit got complicated. And the odd case of jealousy kicked in.

Some sweetbutts got choosy over time. Wanted to be permanent, to have a say and a place in the pecking order. However, unless a member chose to make them an old lady or an old man, or the Blood Moon Goddess sent out a mating call, it wasn’t gonna happen.

The likes of Popcorn and Snickerdoodle understood that. They earned their keep in other ways and had become pack over time, claimed by our wolves as family, and kept their noses out of business that didn’t concern them.

We still had a few troublemakers hanging around who thought they were entitled to anything the Soul Reapers had. Just ‘cause they put out. Those were the ones that didn’t last so long.

“Narcissa giving you trouble again?” I twisted the top off my beer and took a long swig.

“Not me,” Doodle shrugged and looked pointedly over to Viola who’d come out of the storage room carrying a pack of bottled water. “The human stood her ground. Apparently, Narcissa overheard Viola telling her brother she’d been offered a place to stay and that sent her wolf bat shit crazy. Didn’t want humans sniffing round her turf, I guess. Viola didn’t even react as we hauled Narcissa off. Just went about her business like nothing happened. Ballsy as fuck if you ask me.”

“Narcissa,” I growled, pitched just loud enough that I knew she’d hear the summons.

The bar fell silent to witness the exchange. Narcissa looked up from where she was drowning her foul mood and switched to simpering acquiescence in an instant.

I stared at her as she strolled in my direction. The tasteless woman was wearing a fucking teddy and toddling on the highest pair of heels in her wardrobe. The vile parody was not lost on me and it hardened my red rage to cold steel in an instant.

“Grimm,” she purred, sidling up to me with a giggle, and trying to scoot her half-naked ass over my lap. “I thought you’d never ask.”

“Don’t touch me.”

Narcissa jerked back as if I’d struck her. I hadn’t, but the bite in my tone cut through her over-inflated ego soon enough. Her eyes flew wide as she got a good look at my hard face and quickly backed off, throwing her eyes to the ground. “Yes, alpha?”

“Mess with one of my new club girls again and I’ll throw you out myself. For keeps. This is your last strike. Got it?”

---