September Moon (Alexa O'Brien, Huntress #8)(45)

“Yeah, three,” he grunted. “Doghead is my pack. It’s the biggest pack in town. There are two other packs, smaller. Your regular everyday people types. They each have their own Alpha pair, but both packs answer to me and Hanna. We keep them safe, and they do the occasional odd job for us.”

“What kind of job?”

Dayne grinned. “Let’s just say not all of the pack’s income is exactly legal. Having cops and lawyers in the group makes life a whole lot easier. At least it did before Stuart ratted us out. The FPA is one sector of authority we just can’t seem to get rid of.”

I tapped my nails on the tabletop as I pondered this. “You know that killing Stuart will only encourage the FPA, don’t you?”

“Fuck ’em. If they know I’m willing to kill a rat maybe they’ll back off my pack.” With a raised brow, Dayne puffed on that stinky ass cigar and chuckled. “Make it good and bloody, will you?”

“I never said that I would do it.”

“Ok, so will you?”

I was torn. It was vital to keep the wolves and vampires from working with the FPA. They already had a handful in their arsenal. The kids sealed the deal for me. Both Juliet and I had been taken advantage of as young, naïve werewolves. And look how we turned out.

“I’ll do it. But I have just one question.”

“Shoot.”

“What does it take to get into your pack?” My heart pounded in my ears as the question passed my lips. Why was I suddenly so nervous?

“Sorry, babe. No hybrids allowed.”

I flushed, feeling it all the way to my toes. Nothing like being constantly reminded that I didn’t belong to just one species of monster anymore.

“I’m not asking for me,” I snapped. “I’m asking for the wolf I brought to Doghead the other night. He has no pack. He’s loyal and the most fierce wolf I know. He deserves a pack to call his own.”

“Is that right?” Dayne stroked a hand thoughtfully over the stubble lining his jaw. The beautiful moon tattoo on the side of his neck drew my gaze. I couldn’t picture Shaz with one. Although I’d never envisioned Arys or myself with a demon mark either. “Let’s see how it goes with Stuart. Then I’ll consider it.”

“Fair enough,” I muttered, slumping back in my seat.

Dayne rose to leave, pausing to toss a business card down in front of me. “Drop me a line when you’re ready. I’ll have an address for you.”

“Will do. Thanks for coming by.” Feeling wooden and stiff, I made myself get up and accompany him to the door.

Several vampires stopped prowling the room for a conquest to watch us. I could almost see the assumptions forming. Well, what did they expect? There was more to me than what I shared with them. I shared something with Dayne too, and I was determined to make the most of it.

Dayne gave me a fist bump and a nod before disappearing into the parking lot. I lingered in the lobby, wondering if I’d just made a terrible decision.

What choice did I have? I needed this alliance.

Chapter Twelve

“Did you get your alliance?” Willow asked when I joined him at the bar.

“Yeah, for a price. He wants me to kill one of his wolves who’s gone rat. He’s been talking to the FPA.” I ran a hand through my long hair and sighed. This was turning out to be a very long night.

“What did you tell him?”

“I said I’d do it. I didn’t know what else to say. I need those wolves to have my back. If not now, then in the not so distant future. I’m sure of it.” I met Willow’s gold-flecked gaze, seeking judgment and, as always, finding none. “Did I make a mistake?”

Willow spun an empty shot glass between his fingers. “That’s a question only you can answer.”

I groaned. “Shit. I was afraid you were going to say something like that.”

Feeling frustrated, I scrutinized the patrons. Everything was operating like it normally did. The humans were drunk and easy; the vampires were hungry and eager. Several of them still looked my way, talking among themselves.

Before I had time to reconsider, I found myself marching across the room toward the stage. When the band finished their song, I climbed the steps at the back of the stage and interrupted before they could launch into the next tune.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered to the purple-haired werewolf holding the mike, noticing for the first time the Doghead pack tattoo on her neck. “Can I use that for just a second? I need to say something.”

She handed it over and backed away to allow me to take center stage. The music died, and everyone present turned to gawk at me. Public speaking was not my forte. However, I forged ahead, needing to do this.

“Sorry to interrupt,” I said, cringing inwardly as my voice boomed through the club. “I just wanted to say something to the vampires here. I’m aware that many of you are questioning my intentions. Please know that rumors of a dictatorship in this city are completely unfounded. Neither Arys nor I have any interest in such a thing.”

I paused, scanning the crowd, meeting several sets of vampire eyes. Good. They were listening. But did they believe me?

Taking a deep breath, I continued, “My interests lie in protecting this city and protecting the secret we all keep. Anyone who seeks to rebel against that is rebelling against themselves. I will not hesitate to take out anyone who tries to harm me or those close to me. You can all decide for yourselves what kind of a city you want to dwell in. The rebels offer you mayhem and anarchy, which will only bring down the wrath of the FPA. I offer you what you see here, a safe place to be what you are without repercussion. Make your choice.”