by Limoges, M.
Shoving away the image, he pushed to his feet and motioned to one of the chairs in front of his desk. “Dave.” Once Roberts seated himself, he slid into his own chair. “What can I do for you today?”
Roberts fixed a hard stare on him. “I’m sure we can skip with the formalities, Sheriff.” He placed his briefcase on the floor at his feet. “Do you have anything new for me?”
The question prodded his temper. “I would’ve contacted you if I did.”
“I heard you went over to Los Lobos again last night.”
He gritted his teeth in annoyance. “This town doesn’t miss much, does it?”
“Word travels fast.” Roberts laughed, the sound grating on Mike’s nerves. “So, what did you find out?”
“Nothing. I spoke to the bartender at the Den, and he said no one had passed through there in months.” He leaned back in his chair and narrowed his eyes.
After digging up what information he could, he discovered each of Roberts’s employees had been drifters with no real family ties, and they’d all had problems with the law on more than one occasion. As for Carl Marston, the man was a hard-hearted son of a bitch no one in town had particularly missed in his absence. There was no telling what trouble the men had brought on themselves. Hell, maybe they’d moved on for all he knew.
In this part of the country, it wasn’t uncommon for people to disappear in the area without a trace, whether by choice or foul play. Wasn’t the first time, and no doubt it wouldn’t be the last. However, five missing men seemed a tad excessive. Then, there was the question of Roberts’s and Marston’s shady business dealings.
Everyone in town knew both men straddled the fence between law-abiding and criminal. Had they somehow gotten themselves and their men tangled in a business scheme gone wrong? At once, Damien’s words about Roberts earlier that morning echoed in his head.
“Tell me again why you’re so adamant those men disappeared in Los Lobos.” He lifted a brow.
Between everyone’s tight-lipped silence and a dead trail of bullshit leads, the whole fucking investigation ventured into the realm of ridiculous. Roberts held his gaze long enough to give him the impression the man weighed his options. Good, you need to, jackass.
He waited, certain Roberts was on the brink of coughing up information. His patience was rewarded when Roberts shifted and lifted the suitcase onto his lap. The snick of the latches resonated in the quiet office as he opened the case. From inside, he produced a sealed manila envelope and tossed it on the desk.
Staring at the item, Mike made no move to reach for it though his curiosity was piqued.
Wearing a smug expression, Roberts pointed at the packet. “Go ahead. See for yourself. That’ll explain everything.”
Mike grabbed the envelope, broke the seal, and emptied the contents. Puzzled, he picked up a stack of letter-sized photos, inspecting the first image.
Frowning, he glanced up, not bothering to hide his incredulous expression. “A wolf?”
“Keep looking,” Roberts insisted.
Against his better judgment, he continued to flick through the pictures. The first three appeared innocuous—wolves photographed in the wild. Beautiful shots, but he wasn’t comprehending the correlation yet.
When he flipped to the fourth, he nearly dropped the stack. A shocking rush of fury burned through his blood as he stared at the distant profile of a nude man in the woods.
A nude man by the name of Damien.
“What the fuck is the meaning of this?” His gaze shot to Roberts, unnerved the son of a bitch had photographed his lover without his knowledge.
“What you and your boyfriend do in your spare time is hardly my concern, Sheriff.” Roberts sneered. “However, I think you might be interested to learn just what he’s capable of. Go ahead. Look at the rest. You’ll soon understand.”
He should’ve told the prick to get out of his damn office right then and there. Instead, he angrily flipped through the remaining photos, the last forcing him to pause. The shot zoomed in on a figure with a distended muzzle, highlighting a misshapen head, while a weird covering of hair coated its lengthened limbs and torso. It had to be one of the ugliest damn things he’d ever laid eyes on.
Once more, his questioning gaze slid to Roberts. “Wha—”
“It’s an interesting shot, isn’t it?” The other man rose to his feet and stepped around the desk to stand at his side.
He asked, point blank. “What the hell is it?”
“Well Sheriff, what you see is a man transforming into a wolf.”
It took every damn sliver of his reputed self-control not to react to the off-the-wall comment. His brain hadn’t yet wandered from the disturbing fact Roberts possessed a photograph of Damien.
Carrying his perpetual air of smugness, Roberts returned to his seat with far more confidence than when he’d entered the office. “It explains why the whole damn town of Los Lobos is so secretive.”
Mike asked in a wary tone. “Where did you get these?”
“I assure you, they’re real, Sheriff. I took them myself a year ago. I sent my men into Los Lobos to find proof, but they never returned.”
“Proof of what?” In truth, he was beginning to question Roberts’s present state of mind.
“Werewolves, damn it!” Disgust mottled Roberts’s features. “How long do you think it’ll take before they overrun our town, attack our people? They need to be dealt with one way or another.” Roberts slammed his palm flat on the desk.
The man’s words raised the hairs along his nape. He lifted the stack of photos. “Why haven’t you shown me these before?”
“I’m not a fool, Sheriff. Very few would believe me. Be honest. You aren’t convinced the image isn’t a fake, are you?” He shook his head in annoyance. “Don’t worry, I’ll get the evidence I need.”
“Evidence?” He asked though he suspected the answer.
“A body, of course.”
A fine tremor of anger swept through Mike’s frame. “And how do you propose to do that?”
“Meet me at the east side of the reserve in Los Lobos at eight tomorrow morning, and I’ll go over my plan.”
Fucking hell. If that ominous statement didn’t ruin his day, nothing else would.
Roberts reached for the photos, but he stopped him. “Mind if I hold onto these until then?”
The other man seemed to consider the request before he finally nodded. He gathered his briefcase and moved to the door, pausing with his hand on the knob. “I’ll see you at the eastern entrance of the reserve at eight, Sheriff.”
Once Roberts left, he sat in silence and attempted to sort through his jumble of thoughts. He rubbed at the dull ache in his temple. Shit, Damien had been right about Roberts all along. The bastard was leading him knee-deep in a sea of trouble.
In addition to searching for five missing men and dealing with a mysterious lover who’d complicated their relationship and threatened to upset his entire life, he had to prevent Roberts from murdering an innocent bystander in order to prove some asinine theory that werewolves existed.
Werewolves, for fuck’s sake.
He dropped his forehead on his desk with a heavy thunk. Christ, could his life ever be bullshit free for just one day?
Chapter Five
It was noon when Damien stepped through the front door of the Den. At night the hole in the wall bar was typically packed to capacity. However, the place was a ghost town this time of day. He spotted Gee behind the bar, taking inventory. Donning his carefree attitude and lazy grin, he strolled over and leaned against the counter.
“Hey, Gee. What’s going on, man?”
The large bear shifter scribbled on a notepad then glanced up. “Damien.” His lips twitched. “Interesting visit from your mate last night.”
Startled, Damien’s grin dropped, his charming veneer stripped away in a heartbeat. How the fuck did the quiet Bear know every damn thing about the pack?
Not bothering with his easygoing façade any longer,
he grunted. “Where’s Drew?”
Gee nodded over his shoulder toward the office. “He’s waiting for you.”
Apprehension raced the length of his spine, forcing his heart rate to accelerate. With measured steps, he entered the office to face his Alpha, Andrew Tao, who sat behind a large wooden desk in the rear of the room. Drew’s focus was on the laptop in front of him. Once Damien eased the door shut, the young Alpha leaned back in his chair, a ready smile formed on his lips.
“Damien.”
Though he wasn’t one to defer to typical pack hierarchy, he understood his duty if he wished to remain a member of Black Hills. He paused and bowed his head in acknowledgement of the other Wolf’s status in their pack, averting his direct gaze until Drew accepted his submission.
“Come on in. Have a seat. You called this meeting so I assumed it must be something important.”
With his respect recognized, he lifted his gaze, moved further into the office, and settled into a chair across the desk from Drew. Since he wasn’t one to bullshit, he cut straight to the matter at hand.
“I’ve found my mate.”
Drew lifted his brows, a wide grin spread across his face. “That’s great, man. Congratulations.”
The other Wolf’s genuine happiness warmed him, through and through. This was why he’d joined a pack—support, solace, unity—the ideal atmosphere for a Wolf to thrive. It was an aspect of his life which had been missing all the years he’d drifted along before deciding to remain in Los Lobos.
He sucked in a lung full of air, steeling himself to deliver the rest of his news. If Drew were anything like his father, Magnum, then Damien could very well be consigning himself to a death sentence.
“I’ve never known you to hesitate.” Drew titled his head at a slight angle. “I can feel the tension pour off you. Talk to me. Tell me what’s going on.”
He met his Alpha’s gaze, the concern evident in his intelligent eyes. “My mate is male. A human male.”
Drew’s expression remained unchanged. “And?”
He merely stared at his Alpha. At this point, Magnum would’ve cursed up a storm, thrown shit, and threatened death.
“I thought….” He trailed off. He didn’t want to outright remind the other Wolf how much of an anathema his father had been while in power, but Drew seemed to understand.
“Ah.” Drew nodded. “I should’ve guessed.” Then the other man surprised him by stretching across the desk to grip his forearm. His Alpha’s hold infused him with comfort, relaxing the tension thrumming through his limbs by a few degrees. “I don’t have the same old world views my father had. If fate was kind enough to grant you the gift of a mate, be it male or female, shifter or human, accept it and be happy. Life’s too short, Damien.”
If he hadn’t respected his Alpha before, he damn sure would’ve at that moment. A confident aura of strength swirled around the surprisingly calm man, but he didn’t abuse the power he held. Instead, he used his authority to care for each and every member in the Black Hills pack, offering reassurance, support, and defense, when necessary. Thank fuck, Drew was nothing like his predecessor.
“I wasn’t sure….” Damien grimaced. “I didn’t want to cause trouble within the pack.”
“If you don’t have a problem, then no one else will either.” Drew grinned. “Congratulations again. This calls for a celebration.”
He cursed and just blurted the final, somewhat crucial bit of his news. “He’s the sheriff over in Collins.”
The Alpha’s brows almost rose to his hairline. “Well that is an interesting development.”
The statement sent his anxiety soaring to hyper mode. Drew was aware Mike had been around town asking questions about the missing hunters. Natural instinct drove the Black Hills Wolves to interpret him as a threat. Suspicion and their silence is what kept the pack alive. If others learned their secrets, it wouldn’t take long before the pack was rounded up and slaughtered.
“Does he know?” Drew asked.
He shook his head. “I haven’t told him yet. You know it’s coming though.”
“Yeah, you can’t keep him in the dark forever.”
“No, not if I want a mate by my side.”
“What about Marston and the hunters?”
“I haven’t said anything about them, but I did warn him about Roberts.”
“Good.” Drew drummed his fingers along the wooden desktop. “I don’t think it’ll be a secret much longer. Roberts won’t stop until he’s killed one of us and exposed our secret. You know that as well as I do. It’s going to be Roberts or us.”
What his Alpha left unspoken shook a harsh dose of reality into him. He’d warned Mike dealing with Roberts would land him in a dangerous situation. Drew had drawn an invisible line, splitting the fine hairs of Damien’s loyalty to his pack and mate. Oddly, a decision between the two wasn’t as difficult to make as he imagined.
It would always be Mike. Of course, he just had to make sure the whole mess never arrived at that particular extreme.
“I’ll speak to him, show him my Wolf, explain those men were here to kill us. He’ll believe me. He’ll keep our secret.”
He wasn’t sure who he was trying to convince more, Drew or himself. He closed his eyes for a brief moment and shook his head, unsure how to proceed with Mike.
Drew rose from his seat and ambled around the desk, leaning his backside on the edge. The Alpha squeezed his shoulder.
“You already know all Wolves are responsible for their human mates’ silence. And I trust you, Damien. I know you’ll do what’s necessary to protect your mate and this pack. When the dust settles, we’ll celebrate your mating properly and welcome him with open arms.” Drew smiled. “I look forward to meeting your sheriff.”
Reminded of the heavy weight on his shoulders, he forced a faint smile and shook his Alpha’s hand. “Thank you, Drew.”
As he exited the office, he struggled to find the right words to tell Mike. What the hell was he supposed to say? He gave a half-hearted nod in Gee’s direction as he strode to the front entrance.
“Damien,” Gee called out.
With his palm flat on the steel door, he peered at the bear shifter.
“Everything’s going to be all right.”
Damien snorted and pushed outside. Hell, he hoped that was the truth. At the moment, he felt a bit fucked, and not in a good way.
Chapter Six
A cool breeze brushed across Mike’s face and ruffled his hair. Beyond his backyard, nightfall blanketed the surrounding woods in darkness while moonlight settled a soft glow on the grass and trees. He sank lower in the deck chair and took a sip of his beer, enjoying his own personal version of tranquility. This after-hours sanctum was the reason he’d bought the house in the first place. But tonight he wasn’t simply taking in the night air. He was waiting for someone.
Thankfully, Damien didn’t make him wait too long before he parted the shadows and emerged from the dense forest. Mike watched as his long-legged gait ate up the distance between them. He was an impressive specimen of a man, Mike would give him that.
“You know there’s this really great invention called a car,” he called out.
Climbing the porch steps, Damien shrugged, strode to the chair opposite of where he sat, and dropped into the seat with a heavy sigh. From the rigid set of his lover’s jaw and his unreadable expression, it wasn’t hard for him to presume something was wrong.
He lifted his bottle. “You want one?”
Damien craned his neck, his cool emerald gaze landing on the beer in Mike’s hand, and nodded. Rather than comment on his uncharacteristic quiet behavior, he hefted himself to his feet and strode inside the house.
An odd sensation he could only describe as nervousness settled in the pit of his stomach as he opened the fridge and grabbed a beer. He twisted off the cap, tossed it in the trashcan in the corner, and picked up the photos from the kitchen counter he’d kept this morning. Backtracking outside, he handed over the beer,
tossed the pictures onto Damien’s lap then settled himself in the deck chair once more, awaiting the reaction he was sure would soon follow.
Damien slammed his beer on the small side table between them and flipped through the set of photos. “Where did you get these?”
Underneath the deceptively calm-spoken question, he perceived the note of menace in Damien’s voice. Not that he blamed him. He’d felt the same anger when Roberts presented him the images.
He chugged the last of his beer and set the empty bottle on the table beside the other. “Roberts.”
A loud curse shattered the peaceful quiet. Damien jumped to his feet, tossing the pictures on the chair behind him, and paced the deck with furious stomps.
He paused long enough to aim the molten fire of his gaze at Mike. “Roberts is a fucking asshole.”
As if he would get an argument out of him. “Yeah, he is.”
Damien leaned against the porch railing, crossing his arms over his broad chest. “We need to talk.”
“Yeah, we do.” About fucking time.
“Before I tell you anything, I need you to understand that whatever I say to you is in confidence.” His lover’s entire demeanor changed, tension threading through his limbs.
“Okay, so what you say will stay between us. Got it.”
“It’s important.” His gaze turned pleading. “I know your duty as sheriff, but this…this is much bigger than you’d ever imagine.”
Shit. He might be making a mistake, but damn it, the need to understand what the hell was going on outweighed duty at the moment. “Fine. I give you my word.”
“Los Lobos is different than other towns. You already know that.” Damien uncrossed his arms, pushed away from the railing, and resumed pacing the deck. “We value our privacy, and for good reason. Dave Roberts is a conniving son of a bitch who would like nothing more than to own every scrap of land in Los Lobos, just so he can turn around and destroy it.”
“What’s so damn special about Los Lobos? And what’s there to destroy anyway? It’s just another small no-nothing town like all the others in this state.”
