“That’s what we do on Fridays,” I countered. “We like getting coneys delivered from your favorite restaurant and eating them with our feet propped up. Your mother and I have other things to do today ... and nothing about our to-do list could be construed as fun.”
Sami sobered. “Are you going to find the missing man?”
“We’re going to try,” I replied, tucking a strand of Sami’s dark hair behind her ear. “Earl is over there waiting for you.” I inclined my chin toward the security guard. “You should head inside. Someone will be here to pick you up after school, so don’t get on the bus.”
“That means you’re really worried.” Sami shook her head. “You should take me with you. You might need me.”
“I always need you.” I kissed her forehead. “Right now I need you to go to school. We’ll catch you up on everything when we see you again.”
“Fine. But I’m not going to like it.” She turned on her heel and stomped toward the door, causing Zoe and me to snag each other’s gazes.
“She gets that from you,” we said at the same time and then broke into laughter. It didn’t last long. We really did have things to do. The reprieve was nice, though.
MY FATHER CAME THROUGH with information on Ralph Stewart. It wasn’t much, but he’d been cited outside the same bar four times, so it was obvious that was a hangout. The bar catered to local bikers — a group I steadfastly avoided because it was often filled with shifters who preferred being on the move — but there was no doubt we would have to start there.
So that’s what we did.
Big Al’s Armada was one of those hole-in-the-wall places you know about but never really visit. In my younger days I might’ve been tempted by the rough exterior of the building. I liked a good brawl now and then, after all. By the time Zoe and I moved to the area, though, we were sick of fighting. We wanted peace.
After Sami came along, the idea of brawling grew out of necessity, not boredom. I would fight if I needed to protect my family. There was no other reason to engage.
Now it seemed that fate had other plans for us.
“Let me do the talking,” Zoe insisted as she reached for the door. “I know how to handle bikers.”
I snagged her by the back of the neck before she could get ahead of me. “Absolutely not. I’m doing the talking.”
“I speak their language.”
“I don’t think you do.”
“But ... I do.” To those who don’t know her, Zoe looks like an angel. She’s blessed with blond hair for miles and a smile that will melt you to your core. Her eyes are big and bright, and she almost has a glow about her that might come from magic, but I choose to believe it’s simply who she is. What people don’t understand is that her looks are deceiving. There’s nothing angelic about her ... which is only one of the reasons I love her.
“I’ll do the talking,” I insisted, linking my fingers with hers. “In fact, it would be better for us if you waited in the truck. I know you won’t do that, though, so I need you to stick close to me.”
“I’m definitely not sitting in the truck,” she agreed. “Why would you even suggest it?”
“Because bikers don’t have the best reputations when it comes to dealing with women.”
She rolled her eyes. “You’re basing that on that television show with the bikers. Um ... Sons of Anarchy. That’s the one.”
I frowned. “I don’t base my opinions on television shows. I’ve known a biker or two in my life. This place is known as a shifter stronghold ... and these are rogue shifters. They’re not part of a pack.”
“Oh, well, maybe I’ll like them.”
I let loose a sigh. “I doubt it. Please don’t open your mouth. I don’t want to get in a fight.”
Zoe was blasé. “If I get in a fight, I’ll handle it. I’m more than capable of taking care of myself.”
That’s exactly what I was afraid of.
THE INSIDE OF THE BAR WAS exactly what you’d expect ... except for the twinkle lights wrapped around every post. They were red, which gave the space an ominous feeling, but they were still twinkle lights, and they seemed a random accessory to display in a biker bar.
“Well, well, well. Look what we have here.” Someone let loose a low wolf whistle as all eyes turned to Zoe. She was out of place in this particular facility — especially with the other women in attendance wearing leather and having their goods on display — but she didn’t seem fazed as she crossed the room.
There, in the center of everything, was a huge guy practically spilling out of a leather vest. He was big, although not all of it was due to being overweight. He was one of those men who could be muscular and chubby at the same time. It was an interesting — and yet disturbing — picture.
“Hello, gentlemen,” I greeted them. Even though it was hazy, I made out at least fifteen bodies around the bar. Some of them clearly recognized what I was, although the who was probably less obvious. “My name is Aric Winters.”
There was a sharp intake of breath from the corner. It sounded female, but I couldn’t be sure. I wanted to take a closer look, but sticking close to Zoe was important. She could take care of herself — there was no doubt about that — but the last thing I wanted was fifteen dead bikers and an enraged wife.
The thing is, years before — right about the time she became pregnant with Sami — she absorbed a magical book. It briefly took her over, to the point I thought I’d lost her, but she regained control. The Archimage was still inside her. She controlled it to the best of her ability, but there were times she lost her temper. If that happened here, she would be fine. Fifteen bodies would take a lot of effort to hide, though.
“We’re looking for information on Ralph Stewart,” I volunteered. “Word on the street is that you were tight with him.” That was a gross exaggeration. The only reason I knew to come to the bar at all was the man’s arrest record, which basically consisted of a string of drunk and disorderly and open intoxicant complaints. I had to start somewhere.
“Word on the street, huh?” The man leveled his gaze on me. “Who is this word coming from?”
“Various people.”
“That’s all you’re going to tell me?”
“That’s all I’m at liberty to say.”
The room descended into silence, the only sound coming from the chair as the man readjusted his weight. Finally, he spoke. “My name is Al.”
“You’re Big Al?” Zoe interjected, grinning. “It’s nice you have your own establishment.”
“I’m a businessman at heart,” Al drawled. He seemed amused by Zoe. Her lack of fear often drew people in. “You’re a cute little thing, aren’t you?”
The woman standing behind Al shifted from one foot to the other, clearly uncomfortable. If I had to guess, she was his girlfriend, and didn’t like Al’s overt interest in my wife.
“I am cute,” Zoe agreed, “but I’m not one to be messed with. We’re looking for information.”
“On Ralph?” Al arched an eyebrow. “Why do you care about him?”
That was a sticky question. My father’s crew came in to survey the site where we’d found the body. I had no idea how they were going to handle the situation. His death would not be covered up, though. We didn’t kill him, so there was no need.
“He’s dead.” I blurted it out because beating around the proverbial biker bush wasn’t my style.
“What?” Al’s mouth dropped open. “What do you mean?”
“He’s dead,” I repeated. “He was found on my property last evening. We’re trying to ascertain why he was there.”
“How did he die?” The question came from someone in the back of the group.
“I don’t know.” That was sort of true. There was blood on the body but I didn’t get a close look at any wounds. “The nature of the death was suspicious. That part is out of my hands now.”
“Well, if that’s all you have ... .” Al turned haughty. “I think we’re done here.”
I squared m
y shoulders, prepared to explain exactly why we weren’t even close to being finished, but Zoe took it upon herself to make things worse without as much as a glance at me.
“We’re not done,” Zoe shot back. “We want information, and I’m positive you have it.”
“Well, little girl, if you want information you’re going to have to work for it.” Al patted his lap. “Why don’t you sit here and we’ll talk?”
I swear I felt every vertebra rise one at a time as I glared at the man. “Watch yourself. That’s my wife.”
“I think she wants to trade up.”
Zoe rolled her eyes. “Please. The only person who wants to trade up to you is a grub.”
I slid her a sidelong look. “I don’t think that’s helpful.”
She ignored me. “Just tell us about Ralph and we’ll be out of your hair. I don’t understand why that’s so difficult.”
“I don’t think she’s smart enough to understand,” the woman behind Al sneered. “It must be all that blond hair.”
“Oh, your wit astounds me,” Zoe drawled. “Why don’t you shut your trap and let the adults talk, huh? I don’t know about everyone else, but I’d really appreciate it.”
“What did you say to me?” The woman took a threatening step in Zoe’s direction.
I wasn’t particularly worried. Zoe had fought far worse. It seemed to me that we were a bit old for a bar fight, though. Plus, well, the place was dirty. I feared I would get hepatitis if I landed on the floor.
“You heard me.” Zoe didn’t back down. “Shut your hole and mind your business.” Her eyes snagged with Al’s expressive orbs. “Why would Ralph be on our property? What was he doing there? Did it have something to do with the arrival of the council?”
I couldn’t believe she blurted out the question that way. Actually, I could. She rarely thought before she spoke. Still, it was the worst thing to say. Instead of acting surprised — or even confused — Al snickered.
“You think we care about your council?”
I’d sniffed him out as a shifter before we came face to face. As far as I could tell, everyone in the bar was a shifter. It was a mini-pack of sorts. They understood how the official hierarchy worked and decided to branch out on their own. That made them dangerous.
“We don’t care if you’re interested in the council.” I chose my words carefully. “Technically, they’re not our council.”
“They’re in town to visit you,” Al pointed out. “Everyone knows about your family. You guys keep to yourselves, but we’re very much aware of your presence.”
“Everyone knows about your kid, too,” the woman barked.
Al glared at her. “Shirleen, zip it.”
“Yeah, Shirleen,” Zoe echoed. “Zip it.” She was smug, something that was bound to set off alarm bells with any female shifter. My wife didn’t care about societal niceties and pecking orders. She was the only alpha that mattered as far as she was concerned.
“It’s probably best that you don’t mention our daughter,” I warned, barely managing to keep my temper in check. “She is off limits.”
“And if you even look at her funny, I’ll burn your bar to the ground,” Zoe warned.
Al narrowed his eyes to dangerous slits. “You listen here, missy, this is my bar. I decide who comes in ... and who leaves with their hide still intact. If you don’t want to be on the receiving end of my wrath, you’ll watch yourself.”
Zoe feigned a yawn. “I’m shaking in my boots.”
A quick glance told me she was indeed wearing boots, the ones Sami loathed. “Zoe ... .” I didn’t get a chance to finish what I was going to say because Al was on his feet.
“Get out,” he instructed, furious. “I don’t have to listen to you.”
“We need answers.” I refused to back down despite the fact that I heard growls emanating from the poorly-lit area surrounding us. The wolves were getting into formation. I should’ve seen it coming. “All we want to know is who to talk to, the person who was closest with Ralph.”
“And we don’t want to share that information.” Al took a threatening step toward Zoe, but she didn’t back down. “I hear you’re powerful.” His eyes flicked to me. “Both of you. But she’s supposed to be something special.”
“She’s definitely something special,” I agreed. “You don’t want to tick her off.”
“I’m not afraid of her.” Al sounded certain, but there was a momentary flash of worry in his eyes. He sensed too late that things were about to get out of hand.
“You should be,” I growled.
I expected the move. He probably thought he was fast, clever even, but Zoe’s reflexes were legendary. He reached for her as my fingers elongated as claws started stretching and I swiped out to stop him. At the same time, Zoe unleashed her magic on the wolves that were closing in, slamming them into walls.
The sound was deafening as tables flipped and bodies sprawled to the ground. Al’s eyes widened as he took in the spectacle, but his forward momentum didn’t cease. His fingers closed over Zoe’s shirt at the same moment I grabbed his wrist and shoved him with everything I had.
Al was bigger than me — had a good fifty pounds in his favor — but he flew across the room like a rag doll. There was a possibility that Zoe had something to do with it, but I couldn’t focus on that now. Instead, I leaped after the man and pinned him to the ground as he fruitlessly struggled against my strength.
“Don’t ever touch my wife,” I hissed. “Not ever.”
The only one still on her feet was Shirleen. All bravado had fled her strong shoulders, though, and she looked terrified as Zoe pinned her with a look.
“I’m not doing anything,” Shirleen offered. “I just ... I’m not doing anything.”
“That’s not true.” Zoe pasted a pleasant smile on her face as I pressed my forearm to Al’s windpipe to keep him stationary on the floor. “You’re going to tell me what I want to know about Ralph. That’s something.”
“I don’t know anything about him,” Shirleen protested. “He’s not a regular member of our group. He comes and goes as he pleases.”
“That’s the strength of our pack,” Al gritted out.
“You know something,” Zoe pressed, taking a step forward. “Tell me and we’ll go. We’ll leave you to ... whatever it is that you do all day ... and get out of your hair.”
“I don’t know what to tell you,” Shirleen whined. “Honestly, there’s nothing to say.”
“There’s something.” Zoe pursed her lips. “You’re hiding something. I guess I could dig for it. By that, I mean I could use a magical shovel and sift through your brain. I’ve done it before. I hear it’s excruciating.”
Shirleen paled. “I ... his ex-wife!” She barked out the words at the top of her lungs before Al could order her to do otherwise. “His ex-wife is local. She lives on the other side of town. She never hung with us, always chose to keep to herself. Ralph was tight with us, but she wasn’t. If you need information, she’ll have it.”
Zoe turned serene. “Great. I’ll need her name and address. And if I find out you’re lying I’ll be back, and next time I won’t be nearly as nice.” The smile she turned in Al’s direction was evil. “Thank you for your cooperation … you big turd.”
Seven
The information on Stewart’s ex-wife turned out to be true. Maggie Stewart lived in a non-descript ranch house close to the woods. A small blue bicycle was parked in the driveway, indicating a child. Otherwise, the house was dark and quiet.
“Maybe she’s at work,” Zoe suggested as she hopped out of my truck and focused on the house. “Not everyone owns their own business and can run around willy-nilly on a whim.”
I was amused despite myself. “Willy-nilly, huh?”
She shrugged. “You know what I mean. We both have jobs that afford us the luxury of doing what we want, when we want. Most people don’t have that option.”
“No, they don’t,” I agreed, absently moving my hand over her back as
I stared at the silent abode. “Do you want to talk about what happened at the bar?”
She remained calm, didn’t as much as stiffen, and shot me a questioning look as I studied her profile. “I didn’t realize we were supposed to talk about what happened at the bar. Are you upset about the outcome?”
She sounded utterly rational, which set my teeth on edge. My wife was anything but rational. “I thought we’d agreed that I would do the talking.”
“You did the talking.”
I scowled. “I started the talking and you finished,” I corrected. “There’s a difference.”
“I don’t see how.”
The real trouble with my wife is she honestly doesn’t recognize the difference. That’s what made her unbelievably frustrating ... and altogether fascinating. The woman is a mystery wrapped in a pretty bow that just happens to be made of razor wire. You could never gauge which direction she would go.
“Zoe, they were wolves.” I chose my words carefully. The last thing I needed was an argument. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not afraid to fight with my wife. I simply prefer doing it when we’re not mired in a mystery that could lead to trouble. When it comes to a battle, I prefer smooth sailing with my significant other.
“I know they were wolves.” There was an edge to Zoe’s tone I didn’t like. “I’ve worked with wolves before, in case you don’t remember.”
“Oh, I remember.” My memory drifted to a huge battle right before she graduated, one that could’ve ended with either of us dead. Luckily we won, but I would never be able to forget that chapter of our lives. “I still think I should be the one who deals with wolves when they cross our paths. I’m a wolf. I know more about the politics of wolves by nature of my birth.”
The expression she lobbed in my direction was so exaggerated it took everything I had not to burst out laughing.
“Those weren’t regular wolves,” she pointed out.
“I’m aware of that.”
“They were rogue wolves ... and not fun ones like we met two years ago, the ones who were dancing naked in the woods while camping,” she said. “They were jerk wolves.”
Wolf On the Job Page 6
