by Dannika Dark
Her thin brow arched, and she brushed back her brown curls of hair. “And why is that?”
I was almost scared to verbalize it. With everything going on, they had forgotten. “It’s my birthday, but I already told Lexi I don’t want any kind of party. I mean it. In fact, I’ve made plans.”
Which wasn’t a total lie. Denver was a creature of habit when it came to his work schedule. He’d go in early on Friday night and come home just after midnight, heading straight to bed. That meant he’d be up in the morning after a good night’s rest instead of sleeping past noon.
We’d celebrated our birthdays together since I was around eleven or so. I wanted to keep that tradition, and maybe spending some private time together would mend our relationship. I hoped to get past the stumbling block between us and figure out where I stood with him.
Naya pouted. “Are you sure? We’ve always celebrated your birthday. Instead of pizza, we could go out to that fancy—”
“No, really. I have plans.”
“Then you’ll have your date on Sunday. No arguments. Consider that my birthday present to you.”
I smothered a laugh. “Only you would give me a man for my birthday.”
The door swung open and we both turned to look. Spartacus flew into the room like a blaze of glory—eyes wide and his gangly legs scrambling across the slippery floor.
Denver poked his head in. “Your pussy was feeling left out.”
Naya stood up and put her fist on her hip. “You’re getting less funny.”
“Why don’t you put a bell on him? It’s spooky when he creeps up on me.”
I giggled and shifted to face him. “What are you so afraid of? He’s just a harmless cat.”
“Harmless? I guess you haven’t woken up at three in the morning with him standing on your chest and licking your eye.”
Naya lifted Spartacus and planted a kiss on his head. “He does that because he wants you to love him. And I can’t put a bell on him because he ate the last one.”
“Yeah, I still remember hearing the jingle when he went to the litter box. I thought Santa had come early this year.” Denver stepped farther inside, eating soup straight out of a can. It looked like noodles, and I shuddered that it was lukewarm.
Despite the hell they gave Naya about the cat, I could tell the pack thrived on the chaos that Spartacus brought into the house. It gave them something to talk and joke about—an initiation process most new pack members faced anyhow.
“So what are you two doing all shut up in here?” he asked around a mouthful of noodles.
My gaze dragged down to his spectacular abs. Denver was built like an athlete—toned and fit. When his eyes flashed toward mine, I quickly looked back at Naya.
Unfortunately, Naya had caught the direction of my gaze and a cunning smile touched the corners of her mouth. “Maizy and I were just talking about her date.”
A noodle fell from his lips and hit the floor. Spartacus scrambled out of Naya’s arms and began licking it up.
“Date?” he asked.
Satisfaction filled her expression and she patted him on the chest. Then her hand slid down to the ridges on his abdomen. “How do you stay so toned working in a bar? You’ve always had the best abs; wouldn’t you agree, Maizy?”
They both looked at me and I turned away. “Good night, Naya.”
Her mischievous chuckle filled the room as she walked out, Spartacus sashaying behind her with his chin high.
When Denver turned to leave, I stole another quick glance. When he suddenly looked back at me over his shoulder, I turned away and studied the books close to the ceiling. An awkward moment passed before he finally shut the door.
This was a strange game we were playing, and I didn’t even know what game it was, let alone the rules.
Chapter 9
Denver had diligently ignored his ringing phone all day, to the point where he’d shut it off. Calls at home were usually Frank trying to get him to swap out the afternoon shift at the bar, and Denver didn’t like being bugged on his time off. Working in the daytime was less chaotic, but he made more money during peak hours.
After Maizy came home that evening from wherever and they had that stilted conversation in the study, he’d grabbed his keys from the nail by the front door above the letter D. His shift was starting soon, and he wanted to get there early and play a few games of pool. Denver hopped in his beat-up yellow truck—a classic style from last century—and switched on his phone. The moment he did, it rang.
“The fuck?”
As soon as he hit the main road, he glanced at the messages and saw they were all from Will. Nothing but: level red.
He dialed the number. “’Sup?”
“Denver. I need you.” William’s voice was steady, low, and scary as hell. He rattled off an obscure location, so Denver turned the truck around and headed out that way.
The full moon frosted the treetops like icing and sent chills up Denver’s spine. It made his wolf want to howl—not in song, but a cry to his pack to confirm they were safe, something wolves instinctively did. When he turned off the main road after the mile marker William had given him, he slowed down before it killed the tires on his truck. The road was barely visible beneath sticks, rocks, and the underbrush of the woods. The undercarriage squeaked as he hit potholes and bounced around in the cab. Up ahead, his headlights reflected off William’s silver BMW.
Denver cursed when he caught sight of William standing in front of the truck with blood on his hands. He looked like a zombie from one of those post-apocalyptic horror movies. Except dressed better.
“What the train wreck…”
Denver got out and approached William, slowing down the closer he got. He’d never seen such a feral look in his eyes. “What are you doing out here, Will? What’s going on?”
“I’m fucked, that’s what’s going on.” William motioned to the left at a body of a nude man.
Denver hardened his gaze. “Is that who I think it is? You better sit the fuck down and tell me what happened.”
“I prefer to stand.”
Denver raked his hands through his hair and paced in a circle. “This is so fucked up that they’re going to have to redefine fucked up in the dictionary with your picture beside it. Did you have provocation to fight him? When the Council finds out, you’re going to have to face his Packmaster, and you know what that means.”
Councils enforced the laws within the Shifter community, but something like this would be the Packmaster’s call. He could ask for compensation in the form of money, packmates, land… or he might want an eye for an eye, in which case the Packmaster would fight William to the death. The odds would be in the alpha’s favor. He could also demand the higher authority review the case and sentence William to Breed jail.
William had on a black shirt with a round collar except at the front where it dipped into a sharp vee. One of the open flaps hung to the side. Denver noticed he didn’t have blood on his face or matted in his dark curls of hair.
William looked at the dried blood on his hands. “Aaron wasn’t a close friend, just an acquaintance. I thought he would hit it off with Trevor; I didn’t think he’d actually hit him. He’s no different than every other Shifter out there, except that he bats for the boys. How the hell was I supposed to know?” William’s jaw tightened and his lips pressed into a thin line.
Denver scratched his chin and raised his eyebrows. “So you brought him out to the woods and offed him? Real slick plan.”
“Not quite. I know where he lives, and he happens to be a bit of a homebody.”
“Happened. Past tense,” Denver bit out.
“I warned him to leave Trevor alone, but not before I took a few swings. I wanted him to know what it feels like to be on the receiving end. When he struck me in the face with a closed fist, I suddenly realized what he’d been putting Trevor through all this time, and I was the one responsible for it.” William’s voice rose into a near shout. “It was my fault!” he growled. “I w
ould never put my pack in danger…” William’s voice cracked on the last word, and he folded his arms, staring pensively at the ground.
Denver kicked a clump of dirt at the body. “Why is he in human form?”
“He pulled a knife, stabbed me, and I shifted. My wolf wasn’t as lenient in his punishments. Aaron shifted and we went at it. He must have realized I was stronger and panicked. He shifted back and went for the knife again, but it was too late. My wolf went in for the kill.”
Denver threw back his head and released a frustrated growl. “I don’t know what to do, Will. Your best idea was to bring him out here in the middle of bumfuck nowhere?”
“Wouldn’t be the first time I’ve used my trunk for nefarious acts. I seem to have a little experience with hauling bodies.”
Denver pointed at him. “Now is not the time for jokes.”
“Indeed.”
“So you’ve been standing out here all day waiting for me to swing by? For what?”
William shrugged and dropped his arms to his sides. “I wanted to bury him at first, but then I realized someone’s wolf is going to sniff him up. This is unclaimed land, but you know how wolves roam across unmarked territory. My smell is all over him. That doesn’t go away for a long time.”
Denver threw up his hand and turned around. “I don’t even want to know how you know something like that.” Dirt crunched beneath his shoes as he headed back to the truck to grab his phone.
Man, this was all kinds of messed up. William was going to be in a world of hurt when Austin got wind of this.
“What are you doing?” William called out.
“Calling the cavalry.”
“Can we talk about it for a minute?”
Denver glared at him. “This is a hell of a predicament, Will. Not much to discuss.”
William was in panic mode. Entering the Weston pack had given him a second chance, and that was a big deal since he was a former second-in-command. He could have easily slid into another pack and regained that rank, but he’d felt it was his obligation to atone for his bad decisions. Plus, he fit right in and still had a leadership position of a different kind. This wouldn’t just dishonor him; it could mean his death.
Denver tucked the phone in his pocket. “I’m not burying a body. I’m not going to burn it, sink it in the lake, dice it up for dog food, or send him to a taxidermist so you can prop him in the window display at Macy’s. I’ll watch you, but I’m not participating.”
“What if I just disappear?”
Denver kicked more dirt at the body in a show of disgust. Dead or not, this asshole had hurt one of his packmates. “Then you’re running away from your problems like a chickenshit, and that reputation is a hell of a lot worse. Austin mentioned to me what pack Aaron belonged to. Have you ever met his Packmaster?”
William flexed his hands as if he were trying to repel the dried blood. “Years ago, at one of Enzo’s peace parties. He was a prick.”
“True that. He came into the bar once. Ordered all these complicated drinks for his party and didn’t even leave me a tip. Dickwad.”
“Think Austin will be upset?” William asked, humor softening the sharp edges of his voice.
Denver had to laugh. “What do you think? We had a feeling you’d rough him up a little, but no one told you to kill the bastard.”
“Some bastards need killing.”
“Amen.” Denver kicked another clump of dirt at the body. “Trevor might not take this so well.”
William tried in vain to rub the dried blood off his hands. “I considered that. He’ll undoubtedly never speak to me again, although he might share a few choice words over my gravesite. Say, do you think someone could plant some of those little white flowers around the tombstone?”
Denver pulled out his phone. “If the whole pack turns their back on you, then at least you’ve got me.”
William arched a brow. “Swell. I’ll have someone to bring me cheesy crackers to my jail cell. Who are you calling?”
“Wheeler. He’s good with this kind of thing. Dead bodies and stuff. If he says we tell Austin, then that’s what we do. I’ll switch off my headlights until he gets here; we don’t need a spotlight drawing unwanted attention. Since this is unclaimed territory, do me a favor and shift. I want you to piss a nice little boundary around us for some temporary privacy. That’ll stave off any curious wolves until we figure this out.”
“Got a canteen?”
***
Wheeler circled around the body, rubbing the short scruff of hair around his chin and mouth. “You know, when you called, I thought maybe this was going to be some camping shit. Tents, s’mores, fishing,” he said, glaring at William. “Nope. You had to up the ante and deliver me a corpse.”
William widened his stance and clasped his hands together, which drew Wheeler’s attention to the dried blood. Denver had switched on the headlights when Wheeler arrived so he could survey the damage.
Wheeler nodded at Will’s hands. “Why didn’t you wash that off?”
“Should I choose a stream that flows through Lorenzo’s territory or zip into a gas station up the road and frighten a few humans?”
“Denver, grab the jug of windshield wiper fluid out of my trunk,” Wheeler snapped.
Denver groaned and stalked toward the Camaro. He didn’t even look back when he heard Wheeler toss his keys at him; he just lifted his hand and caught them midair. He groaned loud enough to tune out the arguing from behind as he popped open the trunk. William was used to being the one in control, and this was one situation where he had to trust his pack to make the right decisions.
“That has chemicals in it,” William protested, eyeing the blue liquid sloshing around in the jug Denver held in his right hand.
Wheeler snatched the plastic canister from Denver. “And mayhap I don’t care. It’ll dilute your scent from the blood. You’re lucky I don’t still have a can of paint thinner back there.”
Wheeler flipped the cap off and slowly poured while William scrubbed away the dried blood. Denver realized this was going to be a long night, so he sent a text to Frank to cover his shift.
Wheeler threw the empty jug and it made a hollow sound when it hit the dirt. “Strip.”
“I can change when we get home.”
“Nothing personal, sweetheart. Strip out of those clothes that smell like a dead man.”
William reluctantly peeled off his shirt. Denver leaned against the front end of his truck and grinned at William’s sudden bashfulness.
“Are we burning them?” he asked, hopping on one foot and removing the leg of his pants that had tangled around his shoe.
Denver snorted. “Didn’t you learn anything from Smokey the Bear?”
“Get the trash bag out of my trunk,” Wheeler said, lifting the pile of clothes.
Denver frowned at his brother. “I didn’t come here to play gofer. And what the hell are you doing with trash bags in the trunk of your car?”
Wheeler stalked past him. “Hiding bloody clothes and disposing of bodies,” he grumbled.
William stood naked with his arms at his sides. Denver tried not to notice, and his gaze made an exaggerated detour to the left. The crickets were chirping, a garbage bag was rustling, and William was whistling a cheery little song.
“You seem to be taking this pretty calmly,” Denver noted.
“It changes things when someone has your back.”
“What, you didn’t think I’d show up?”
William tucked his hands beneath his arms. “Would have been nice if you’d answered your phone twelve hours ago. The mosquitoes have been a nightmare.”
“Don’t put this on me. You know I don’t like answering my phone when I’m at the house.”
“Ah, yes. Too busy playing video games.”
“Shut it.”
“When you two lovebirds are done quarreling, come help me with the body,” Wheeler said.
“Wait.” Denver hesitated, realizing if they hid the body and were caugh
t, then their punishment wouldn’t be that much less severe than whatever William faced.
Wheeler stripped out of his shirt and tossed it on the hood of Denver’s truck. “Wait for what?”
“William marked the perimeter to keep the wolves out. We can just leave the body here.”
“He marked it, huh? Yeah, like that’ll last.” Wheeler slapped at a mosquito on his tatted arm. “We’re putting him in William’s trunk.”
“Wait a second,” William argued. “It’s bad enough I’ve got blood on the floorboard to clean, but I’ll never get the smell out.”
Wheeler laughed darkly. “I’ll take you to buy a Kia on Monday. I think your snazzy little ride has seen enough bodies in the trunk, don’t you? We’ll drive it to the human side of town and find a nice parking place for the evening. We’ll strip the plates and tags off, clean it out, and—”
“Leave it?” Denver wasn’t so sure he liked where this was headed.
Wheeler sliced him a glare. “We can’t take it home and we can’t leave it here, so that narrows down the options. Humans won’t pay any attention to an abandoned car. At least not for one night. Once we drop the bomb on Austin, we’ll follow his orders. If we have to return the dead asshole to his Packmaster, then so be it. If Austin wants to hire a cleaner and pretend like this never happened, then I’m more than okay with that.”
Denver kicked a chunk of dirt at the body. “So why not just leave the car here?”
“Everyone knows Will drives this sparkly piece of shit, that’s why. You got packs five miles up that way and ten that way. It’s a full moon, and the last thing we need is a spotlight on our oops.”
“Oops?” William asked.
Wheeler pointed at the corpse. “Yeah, oops.”
“Have fun driving,” Denver said with a muffled laugh.
“William isn’t taking the body into town,” Wheeler replied. “You are.”
Denver bristled at the idea of being trapped in a car with a corpse. Not that he was superstitious or believed in ghosts, but he’d seen enough horror movies that he began having visions of that thing crawling through the backseat and sucking his eyeballs out. “I object.”
