Veil of Lies

by Nicky Charles

  Armand wove his way through the crowd and when he reached the bar, Bryan handed him a drink.

  “Welcome home.”

  “Merci.” He took a swig and wiped his mouth. “Did anything exciting happen while I was gone?”

  “Just the usual. Your timing is perfect, though. Ryne called looking for you.”

  He arched a brow. “Did he say why?”

  “Nope.” Bryan checked the clock on the wall, a novelty item with the numeral five at each point and a sign declaring ‘the bar opens at five’. Of course, the opposite was true at this moment. “Closing time.”

  He grunted in acknowledgement and, raising his fingers to his lips, gave a loud piercing whistle that had everyone pausing and looking his way.

  “We’re closing in fifteen. Drink up and head home.”

  The announcement was met with the usual good-natured grumbles, but everyone complied, the room clearing out until only the staff remained, completing their evening chores.

  Bryan wiped up a water ring then tossed the towel on the top of the bar. “Mind if I head out? Cassie’s waiting for me.”

  “Go. You’ve done enough.”

  “Any time.” With a jaunty wave, Bryan went on his way.

  Armand watched the other man leave and then circled the room, checking no one was passed out in a corner. He banged on the washroom doors ensuring they, too, were vacant before returning to empty the till. It was a routine he had performed for years. By the time he was done, the band would have their instruments put away and the waitresses would have dishes stacked in the kitchen. He’d start the dishwasher and then head to his apartment upstairs. There would be much to do in the morning; going over the books, checking the bar was stocked, going to the cemetery…

  That last point had him pausing.

  Was it hypocritical of him to have gone looking for a mate, only to return and place flowers at the grave of another woman? Lucy was gone. The bouquets of wildflowers were a pointless gesture, yet to end the practice seemed wrong. If he didn’t visit her grave, who would trim the grass and check the headstone was polished? His brow furrowed at the unpalatable image of a neglected plot.

  He looked up as the outer door opened and Ryne Taylor walked in. The man seldom came to the bar this late anymore. It would seem the phone call Bryan had mentioned must have been important. A discontented grumble rose in his chest. He was feeling disinclined to talk. After a week in the woods, it took time to integrate back into society.

  “We’re closed, my friend.” He gave a pointed look at the clock.

  “I know.” As always, Ryne acted as if he owned the place. “I need to talk to you.”

  “We speak often during regular hours.”

  “True but something’s come up. We need to have a conversation in private.”

  That caught his attention.

  He looked around the room. Most of the waitresses were gone, only young Tessa remained. Her brother Marco would be arriving soon to take her home just as he always did. Daniel and his band were conversing quietly beside the stage, their instruments already put away. He shifted his attention back to Ryne who was still looking at him with a steady gaze. It was the look of an Alpha, and would have had most immediately following his commands.

  We are bear. His posturing means nothing to us. His inner animal yawned, not offended by the Lycan but not impressed either. It was tired from their week-long journey and was planning to nap.

  True, he mentally replied to the creature. Our way is not theirs. We will speak with him at a time of our choosing.

  “You’ll have to wait.” He softened his words by taking out a beer and sliding it across the bar before continuing with his usual closing routine.

  Ryne dipped his head, then wandered over to a table to sit. He took a pull on his beer while watching Tessa with narrowed eyes, no doubt wondering, as they all did, what would become of her.

  Across the room, Daniel was watching the girl, too. Unrequited love; how long would it last? Armand shook his head. Based on his own personal experience, it wasn’t easy to move beyond the emotion.

  A wave of humidity wafted across the room as the outer door opened again, this time admitting Marco, one of Ryne’s pack members.

  “Are you ready, Tessa?” Marco called to his sister before walking over to where Ryne sat. “Do you need a ride home?”

  “No, I’ll be a while longer.” Ryne didn’t offer any other explanation and Marco didn’t question him. The pack respected their Alpha.

  The brother and sister left and soon Daniel and his band were heading out as well.

  “Welcome back, Armand.” Daniel came over and leaned on the bar.

  “Thanks.”

  “Ryne,” Daniel now grinned at his Alpha. “Are you here for some peace and quiet?”

  “Your house is noisy?” Armand shifted his gaze between the two. Was this a clue as to why Ryne needed to speak with him?

  “Gracie is teething,” Ryne grimaced. “We’re all short on sleep.”

  “Understandable.” He nodded. Ryne’s baby girl was already showing signs of a strong personality.

  With a wave, Daniel left and silence descended on the bar. Armand pushed the cash drawer shut and put the money in the leather pouch he kept for that purpose and then tucked it into his safe. Finished with his job, he poured himself a drink and finally leaned against the bar.

  “What did you need to discuss, my friend?”

  Ryne set his drink down. “You remember Lucy?”

  His bear’s ears twitched at the name and it raised its head.

  As for himself, he waited a beat before speaking, the question unexpected. Hearing her name still caused pain in his heart. When he replied, his voice was steady, unemotional. It wouldn’t do to show his weakness, not even to a good friend. “Of course.”

  “The two of you were close friends; maybe even…more?

  He hesitated and then made an admission. “I’ve always regretted that I waited too long.”

  “Why did you?” Ryne cocked his head.

  “She wasn’t a shifter. We are.” He shrugged. “You know how complicated that can be. I needed a firm commitment before I could tell her our secret and she didn’t seem ready to give one.”

  His bear nodded in agreement, following the conversation closely.

  Ryne took another drink of his beer. “You never let her know you were interested.”

  “I did. Once.” He hunched his shoulders and stared down into his glass.

  Ryne shifted in his seat.

  He looked up. “Why do you mention her?”

  “Listen,” Ryne cleared his throat. “If you had another chance with her, what would you do?”

  “It’s pointless to speculate. She’s gone.”

  Inside his bear stirred restlessly, the conversation reminding the creature of topics best left alone. The past could not be changed, however the animal had a hard time believing that.

  Ryne pressed his point. “But what if she wasn’t?”

  “A miracle, you mean? You’re not the type to believe in such things.” He gave a dry laugh and took a drink. “But I’ll play your game. If I could change the past, I’d tell her my feelings and ask her to give us a chance.”

  “That’s what I thought.” Ryne made a face and then took a deep breath. “Armand, I’ve been keeping something from you.”

  One brow quirked, he lifted his glass to take a drink only to freeze when Ryne spoke.

  “Lucy isn’t dead.”

  “Pardon?” He blinked and his inner beast rose to its feet.

  “You heard me.” Ryne scowled. “It was her idea. She wanted to start a new life.”

  “Lucy is alive?” His fingers tightened into fists. The glass he was holding shattered, shards slicing his fingers, blood dripping from his hand to stain the floor. He took no notice, felt no pain, his brain trying to process what he had just heard.

  “Yes.”

  “But the funeral? Her grave?”

  “We brought
an empty casket back and buried it.” Ryne shrugged. “I said there’d been an accident, that Lucy was gone; everyone assumed that meant she was dead. I just never corrected them.”

  Disbelief had held him frozen in place but now it transformed into rage, twisting and rolling until it exploded into an inferno that couldn’t be contained. His vision blurred as reason was forced to the mere edges of consciousness.

  Ryne continued to speak. “I gave Lucy my word that I—”

  With a snarl, he leapt across the bar, grabbed Ryne by the front of his shirt and lifted him from his seat.

  “Armand…” Ryne lowered his voice in warning.

  “You lied.” He growled the words and slammed his fist into Ryne’s face sending the other man reeling backwards into a table halfway across the room. The crack of splintering wood, coincided with the breaking of his self-restraint.

  “Fuck, that hurt!” Ryne gave his head a shake as he regained his footing.

  Armand stalked towards the Lycan, lips curled and hands clenched. The air began to shimmer as the bear inside him struggled to escape. A deep huff reverberated from the animal, a sure sign it would attack if let free. Most sane persons would have backed away. Ryne did not.

  In a fight between a bear and a wolf, a bear had the size and power. A wolf’s advantage came from the pack, multiple adversaries distracting the bear, giving the others a chance to attack. Ryne had no pack to help him right now, but he was quick and agile, a strategic fighter and a bad-ass Alpha despite the outward appearance that being mated and a father had softened him.

  Ryne tested his jaw then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, a thin streak of blood showing. “I’ll give you that one. Try it again and I’m going to kick your ass.”

  The warning didn’t even register.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” He shoved a chair that was in his path. Ryne nimbly jumped out of the way as the furniture slid across the room before crashing into the wall. One of the paintings hanging above that spot slipped sideways on the nail. Thankfully, it didn’t fall. If it had, it would have pushed him over the edge.

  Ryne narrowed his eyes, judging his opponent’s next move. “I didn’t like doing it. You’re my friend.”

  “And friends do not deceive each other.” He hit a table with his fist and it collapsed into a pile of tinder.

  “Armand…” Ryne growled one more warning, as pointless a gesture as the first.

  The bear gave a roar, years of frustration coming to the fore. Armand swung his arm at Ryne. Ryne caught it and with a twist of his body used the momentum to propel him over his shoulder.

  Armand hit the ground, rolled and charged at his opponent, his shoulder slamming into Ryne, driving them both into the bar.

  Air whooshed from Ryne’s lungs, yet even as Armand stepped back Ryne used the bar to brace himself, raised both legs and rammed them into Armand’s gut.

  Staggering backward, Armand grabbed a nearby chair and swung it at Ryne. The chair disintegrated as it struck the bar, Ryne barely managing to duck in time.

  After that, it was a free for all with grunts, curses and the sound of breaking furniture filling the bar. The two volleyed for supremacy but were, surprisingly, equally matched as brute strength was met with speed and cunning.

  “You’re right. Friends don’t deceive each other.” Ryne circled around, not increasing the distance between them but moving so the bar was once again at his back. “But Lucy was…is…also a friend.”

  “Yes.” Armand spat blood from his mouth. “The two of you were indeed…friends.”

  If Ryne noticed the extra emphasis on the last word, he ignored it. “And if a friend needs help, you give it. Could I do any less for her than I would for you?”

  Armand paused, fists clenched. Since Ryne’s arrival in Stump River, the man had been his friend, never hesitating to help, even offering his pack members to watch the bar when he needed to get away. Bears had no pack to rely on, their clans usually scattered across the miles. The wolves were like family, had stood by him…

  And yes, at one point, Ryne and Lucy had an…arrangement. It had been difficult to watch though no more so than any of the other relationships Lucy had over the years. And in the end, Ryne had shifted his interest to Melody.

  He shook his head to clear his thinking, reason and rage vying for control. Ryne had lied but that was the only issue between them. His anger was disproportionate to the crime; his bear’s frustration misplaced. Inhaling through his nostrils, he slowly released his breath, trying to bring his logical, more civilized self to the fore again. “Who else knows that Lucy is alive?”

  “No one.”

  He slid a look at Ryne. “Not even your mate?”

  “No.”

  He considered the point then gave a dark laugh. “She will carve you to pieces with her words when she learns of your deception.”

  “Yeah, I know.” Ryne gently touched his nose and winced. “I’d prefer being punched. Almost.”

  “She’s a formidable woman.” He flexed his hand and examined his bleeding knuckles. “You’re lucky to have her.”

  Ryne nodded and then waited.

  With a heavy sigh, Armand pulled his hair back from his face, and once again considered the fact that he had no mate, perhaps never would. Blaming the fact on the Lycan, exacting some form of revenge had been momentarily satisfying yet changed nothing. Nor was it justified. His solitary state was his own doing.

  His bear, recognizing the wisdom of its human’s thinking, subsided. It was not content but was willing to listen to the conversation.

  He looked around noting the broken furniture; it would need to be repaired or removed before he opened the bar tomorrow. At least there were no windows broken. One of his paintings—an interpretation of the sun setting over a nearby lake—was crooked so he straightened it, pausing to study the composition and use of colour before taking a seat at one of the tables that was still intact. Stroking his beard, he stared sightlessly across the room trying to come to terms with what he’d learned.

  Ryne appeared at his side with two glasses and a bottle of whisky. Pouring a shot into each glass, he took a seat as well.

  “Thanks.” The liquor slid down his throat, the burn a distraction from the ache in his heart.

  “I shouldn’t have kept the truth from you, Armand.” Ryne tossed back his own drink. “At the time, I didn’t realize you were that interested in Lucy.”

  He shrugged. “I tried to keep it to myself. I wasn’t sure. It was only when she said she was leaving on vacation that I had a feeling, a premonition.” He shook his head. “It was too late.”

  “I’m sorry.” Ryne poured two more shots. One of his eyes was almost swollen shut but he managed the task without spilling a drop.

  They both drank again then sat in silence studying the amber liquid.

  Eventually he spoke. “Why are you telling me this now?”

  “Lucy called earlier this evening. It’s the first time I’ve heard from her since leaving her in Chicago.”

  Years without contact and then she changed her mind? There had to be more to the story. “Why?”

  “She was worried the man who almost killed her was back.”

  He looked up sharply. “Explain.”

  “When Melody first came here, she was trying to write an article on me, remember? But what she didn’t know was that it was really for some rich recluse who was trying to find Lycans.”

  Armand searched his memory then nodded slowly. “I remember she wanted to write an article. I didn’t know the rest. Such a thing would have been very dangerous for you. For all of us.”

  “Yep. Long story short, Melody changed her mind and refused to hand in the article. The lawyer for the rich guy came to the apartment to get it and ended up hitting Lucy on the head. She almost bled to death.”

  “And where is this man now?” His hands tightened on the arms of his chair as his bear considered meting out retribution for the act.

  “Dead.”
There was definite satisfaction in Ryne’s voice when he spoke the word. “Lucy has no reason to fear him anymore. However…”

  “There’s more?”

  “She was mugged today and she needed help replacing her ID.”

  “Mugged?” Armand stood up abruptly, the legs of his chair scraping back along the floor. “Is she all right?”

  “She says she’s fine.”

  He began to pace the room trying to ease the tension building inside. His bear was restless, wondering why they weren’t immediately rushing to Lucy’s side.

  Ryne leaned his chair back and stretched his legs out negligently. “I’ve got Lycan Link working on new documents for her but there was something in her voice that caught my attention.”

  “What?”

  “I’m not sure.” Ryne tapped the table, then shook his head. “I think someone should check up on her.”

  “I’ll go.”

  “Just like that, you’re willing to leave? You only got back a few hours ago and haven’t even had time to wash the stink off you.” Ryne arched a brow.

  “Don’t play games with me, my friend. It’s why you came here tonight, isn’t it?”

  Ryne gave a bark of laughter. “And here I was thinking I was being subtle.”

  He snorted. “I don’t think you’re even capable of that.”

  “Yeah. Probably not.” Ryne downed the last of his drink, rose to his feet and stretched. “It’s getting late. I should head home before Melody wonders what happened to me.”

  “She’ll question you about the bruises on your face.”

  He shrugged. “I was at the bar. She knows how it can get when the temperature rises.” He strode to the door then stopped, his hand on the door knob. “A word of advice. If you want to get Lucy back, you need to lose the wild man look.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Shave. Cut your hair. You look like a bear even before you shift.”

  He scowled but as the door shut, he examined himself in the mirror that was behind the bar. After a week in the wilderness, he did look the worse for wear. Maybe his friend had a point.

  Women are mysterious creatures. They put stock in things looking nice.