by Zoe Perdita
It chilled Quinn’s blood even if it wasn’t aimed at him. Or maybe it was. Maybe this wolf believed everything Dr. Ross and Bradley Montgomery said about him. That he was some crazy depressed man with delusions about what kind of shifter he was. That the necklace that kept him magically bound to the Montgomery family wasn’t real, and they’d actually taken him in and raised him – not kidnapped him from his home in order to protect the world from Quinn’s extremely rare and dangerous magic.
Everyone else thought Quinn was crazy; why not Tyler as well?
“Do you know where you are?” Tyler asked.
“Chinatown,” Dr. Ross answered and jutted out his chin.
Tyler nodded and took another long drag. “Do you have any fucking clue who runs Chinatown? Because it ain’t the cops, and it ain’t his kind,” he said and pointed his cigarette at Bradley.
Quinn shuffled closer to Tyler. He didn’t know who ruled Chinatown or what Chinatown was, really. China was a country, but did it have a small municipality inside Haven City? Interesting!
Bradley stiffened. “That has nothing to do with the present matter. Quinn is under my care, and if you don’t give him back, he’ll have an episode.”
“And if you come to my door demanding shit like this, you don’t only have to answer to me, you’ll have to answer to someone a lot bigger and a lot angrier. Does the name Jin Yue ring any bells?”
The color drained from Bradley’s face, but Quinn felt the tug on his being – the magic pulling him away from what he wanted. Forcing him to obey or face torment.
“I’ll go,” Quinn said and pressed his hands into Tyler’s shoulders.
Tyler tensed under the touch and scowled. The cigarette burned down to the butt, and ashes spilled over the floor. Nevertheless, Quinn wanted to pluck it out of Tyler’s mouth and kiss him again, but that would only further anger Bradley.
Quinn gently nudged him, and Tyler stepped out of the way, but he grabbed Quinn’s arm and squeezed it. “I think he does need help, and you’re not giving it to him.” Then Tyler pressed a piece of paper into Quinn’s chest. “If he doesn’t show up at the next meeting, you won’t like what happens.”
Even with the binding magic tugging him toward Bradley, wrapping around his throat and forcing his body to move, Quinn’s heart still felt lighter than it had in years.
The door shut behind him as they moved down the hall, but Quinn spotted Tyler on the balcony of the apartment as Bradley shuffled him into the car. He was smoking another cigarette and glaring daggers at the bastard at Quinn’s side.
Quinn couldn’t help but smile.
Wolves were much more powerful than he ever imagined.
It took half the ride back to the house for him to finally glance at the paper gripped in his hand – a flyer for group therapy at some address Quinn had never heard of (which didn’t mean much, considering he wasn’t familiar with most addresses). They met twice a week and the next meeting was Monday, just two days away.
“Do you think I’d let you go to something like that?” Bradley asked from the corner of his mouth. He sat as far away from Quinn as he could in the backseat of the Bentley.
Merci drove in silence, while Dr. Ross rode in the passenger seat and mumbled about how rude Tyler had been.
Quinn leaned close to Bradley and whispered in his ear. “If you don’t, I’ll find a way to die, and I’ll take you with me.”
Bradley tried to slink away, but he had nowhere to go unless he jumped out of the car.
A crippling pain shot to the center of Quinn’s head, forcing him back.
Quinn grimaced and pinched his eyes shut, but a bark of laughter slipped out of his mouth nonetheless. If that was the only answer he got, he knew he’d won.
4
He wasn’t trying to help Quinn – at least that’s what Tyler told himself while he went to work that day.
How the hell did he even know if that crazy shifter was telling the truth? Sure, those guys that came to the door were a couple of stuck-up assholes, and one of them had magic that smelled like rotting flesh – but that didn’t mean Quinn wasn’t mentally unstable.
It’s not like Tyler didn’t have enough problems already. Trying to run a tattoo shop all on his own was the opposite of easy. Not only did he create all the art, he also kept the books, cleaned, and ordered all the supplies.
Plus, he had Cage and his brother to worry about. NA meetings to attend. Ken to deal with. He hadn’t gotten laid the night before, and the alpha riled inside him.
Now some (maybe) crazy shifter wanted his help?
And his body, mostly his cock, was willing to agree for reasons Tyler didn’t want to worry about either.
Tyler bit his lip ring gently.
If Quinn showed up at the therapy group, fine. If not, he’d ask Rory to have Jin Yue do something about it. Beyond that, it wasn’t his problem.
Several new clients wandered in that day while he was sketching and kept Tyler busy enough to wipe the strange shifter from his mind. A group of college age girls who giggled and squealed the entire time wanted matching fairy tattoos, and a monkey shifter showed up for some coloring on his back tattoo.
Tyler wasn’t sure which he preferred now that his shop was somewhere normal people weren’t afraid to enter – the members of the Triad or people like the college girls (two gave him their numbers, and he forced himself to smile and promptly tossed them out).
He decided he might prefer the Triad. They didn’t talk as much, and the artwork they chose was usually more interesting than Tinker Bell.
But money was money, and he couldn’t turn away paying customers.
Sure, Davis made some kind of deal to get Tyler that spot right in the center of the revived Chinatown, and the rent was way more reasonable than it should’ve been considering the view of the river and the prime location, but Tyler still had to pay rent and run a business.
By the time night fell, Tyler all but forgot about Quinn and his weird request. In fact, he wasn’t even sure if he wanted to go to that stupid group therapy bullshit anymore. It’d take him away from his shop in the middle of the day, so maybe he’d just tell Cage and Ken that it was bad for business.
Of course, Ken chose that moment to peek inside, his hair perfectly combed and his khaki trench coat misted with rain. If he were a little taller, he could’ve been a model with that bone structure. Hell, Quinn probably could be a model as he was.
Tyler frowned at himself and stood up. His back cracked and he stretched his arms over his head. He’d been leaning over too long, like usual.
“Are you staying open much longer?” Ken asked as he stepped inside and wiped his loafers on the mat.
“Maybe. What’d you have in mind? Want a crescent moon on your ass?” Tyler said and shut his sketchbook. His fingers were black with graphite.
Ken smiled with the corners of his mouth. That happened a lot more lately. Probably because Davis was back in town, and Davis finally admitted he loved Ken. It shouldn’t have been that easy for Davis to get forgiveness like that, but it was.
Tyler wondered what he’d have to do to be forgiven since becoming Ken’s mate was off the table (not that it was ever on the table, but still).
“Not tonight. Or any night. But how about dinner on me,” Ken said and glanced around the shop, his shoulders tense and back straight. He always looked uncomfortable in all the places Tyler felt at home.
Tyler shrugged and moved to the sink in the corner. “Is he coming?”
“Davis is working late tonight, so no.”
Tyler let out an exaggerated sigh and grabbed his jacket from the coatrack. Ken gave him the stainless steel rack when the shop first opened, and Tyler wished it hadn’t come in so handy. It’d be nice if Ken weren’t right all the time – though Tyler’d never admit that to his face. Because if that were true it meant Ken was also right about forgiving Davis, and Tyler wasn’t sure about that yet.
It wasn’t just that Davis skipped town when he was supposed
to be the alpha that led their pack after their dad died. He also managed to get a price on his head with the leader of the Tiger Triad (who was thankfully dead now). And he wasn’t around to watch their own mother slowly die while Tyler struggled through middle school and high school with no one to look after him, besides Ken.
But sometimes Ken’s idea of looking after someone felt damn near close to smothering. Like now. Still, if Tyler got a meal out of it he wasn’t going to complain.
They walked in silence to a dim sum place down the street, and Tyler stood outside while Ken went in. He smoked two cigarettes before he finally wandered in to face the omega wolf, who sat at a table already set with tea and water.
Ken hadn’t even ordered wine, which meant he wanted to talk about serious shit. Figured. He hadn’t brought up Tyler’s disregard for their time yet, and he was probably planning on doing it now.
Tyler slumped into a seat and ordered a beer while Ken rattled off which menu items they wanted and stirred a spoonful of sugar into his tea.
Like most of the places in that neighborhood, the lighting was dim and the walls were covered in scenes of mountains with tiny houses tucked into them, or horses galloping through streams with calligraphy running down the sides – all done in a the Chinese style. Tyler studied the one behind Ken’s head – a bamboo forest with a tiger slinking through it.
His fingers itched for his sketchbook. He’d been practicing with charcoal, but it never looked quite right. He’d need a brush and ink to really get the proper effect.
“How was your night?” Ken finally asked, his fingers gripped the teacup tighter than necessary.
“Fine, I guess,” Tyler grumbled and tapped his foot restlessly. If he told Ken about Quinn, the omega would just think Quinn was crazy. And, fuck, that was probably the case. So Tyler kept his lips clamped shut.
Ken nodded. “Did you eat the meatballs?”
“Yeah. Did you have fun cleaning my apartment?”
Ken’s cheeks flushed pink, and his lips set into a straight line. “You weren’t there to tell me not to. Plus, you didn’t see the mess Davis made in your kitchen.”
“You guys didn’t fuck in my place, did you?” Tyler asked and wrinkled his nose.
“No!” Ken said, and his cheeks burned. But his heartbeat wasn’t slamming in his chest the way it used to when he said he was totally over Davis, so Tyler figured he wasn’t lying. “But we decided on weekly meals, Ty, and Cage agreed that it was a good idea.”
Tyler rolled his eyes and leaned back. He wrapped his lips around the beer bottle and took a long swallow before he answered in an effort to quell the churning storm in his gut. “Maybe you and Cage and Davis should stop deciding what’s best without asking me first.”
The waiter chose that moment to set the pile of dim sum in front of them.
Tyler hadn’t bothered to pay attention to what Ken ordered. It’d be good regardless since Ken had impeccable taste, besides his love for Davis Harrison, that was.
The rich scent of pork and vegetables tickled Tyler’s nose as Ken divided the dishes between them. His hands shook as he speared a dumpling with his fork and took a bite out of it without cutting it first. He chewed ravenously like he was taking out his frustration on the food, and Tyler watched him.
Tyler stomach rumbled, but he wasn’t going to eat until Ken got out what he wanted to say.
Finally, Ken swallowed and wiped his mouth. “What do you want us to do? Leave you alone? Abandon you? No. That’s not what packs do, and don’t bring up Davis. We both know he messed up big time. And it’s not easy to forgive him. I struggle with it on a daily basis when I think of all the things that could’ve been avoided if he’d just. . . . But he didn’t. We’re here, and this is what we have to work with. I’m—I’m proud of you. You’ve come a long way, and you’re doing really well, but you can’t do everything alone. Ha! Yeah. I’m saying that. Davis wants to help you. I’m just asking that you let him from time to time.”
Typical Ken. He had to twist everything so Tyler sounded like the bad guy. That familiar knot of guilt surfaced in his stomach, and he shoved a dumpling in his mouth to make it go away.
Ken watched him carefully, his dark eyes intent.
“I don’t really need any help right now. I’m good. Sorry I missed dinner last night. Some other shit came up and I had to help a friend out of a bind,” Tyler said and took another gulp of his beer.
Ken nodded slowly. “Okay. Do you want to talk about it?”
Tyler thought about half naked Quinn in that alley and those assholes he’d beat up. That kiss in the kitchen that felt like it caught his chest on fire, which was saying something because he’d never kissed another guy while he was sober. “Not really.”
They both finished their drinks and their food before Ken spoke again, and the silence between them made way for the scrape of forks across plates and the gentle murmur of conversation from other tables. Were they all normal people with normal people problems? Probably. Tyler didn’t have the patience to listen.
After they finished eating, Ken put his credit card on the check. “If you don’t want to talk to me, will you go to that group therapy meeting at least once to see what it’s like? If it’s not your thing, that’s fine. Cage thinks it’ll help, and he’s a doctor.”
“He has a Ph.D. in Classical History,” Tyler huffed and stood up. His napkin tumbled onto the floor, and Ken bent to pick it up.
“I know, but he’s been where you are so he knows more than you do. It can’t hurt to try.”
Cage might’ve been a former addict, hence the reason he was Tyler’s NA sponsor, but that was a long time ago and his circumstances were completely different. Still, arguing with Ken got him nowhere. Giving in was easier.
Some alpha he turned out to be.
“Fine. I’ll go once,” Tyler said and strolled out to have another smoke while Ken finished paying for their meal.
It’s not like he wanted to see Quinn again – he was just doing this for Ken.
At least, that’s what Tyler told himself when Monday afternoon rolled around. He walked to the community center where the therapy group was held, the same building as his NA meetings, and frowned at the bent gray concrete building with narrow windows. It sat on the edge of the Flats, and the area around it was in flux.
New buildings were popping up every other week, it seemed, and old ones were being renovated from their former state of decay or simply torn down.
Tyler used to wander these streets looking for an opium den to get a fix, now there wasn’t one left in Haven City. It’d have been a hell of a lot easier to get clean in the first place if the gang wars ended before he went into rehab.
A few beat up cars were parked in front of the community center, but none of them were the shiny black Bentley that picked up Quinn the other morning. Tyler’s stomach tightened, and he frowned at himself. His threat wasn’t going to be an empty one, but if Quinn were there it’d make this a lot easier.
Especially since he’d never actually talked to Jin Yue before. He’d only seen the leader of the Triad from a distance on a few occasions. But Jin was Rory’s mate, so he couldn’t be that bad since Rory didn’t put up with shit.
Tyler’s shoes slapped against the dirty linoleum floor, and he stepped into room 12b. He was about five minutes late, and the rest of the group had already arrived. The chairs were pushed into a circle and everyone turned to face him as he entered.
His eyes met Quinn’s green-gold ones immediately, and Tyler wasn’t sure whether he should be relieved or annoyed by the way the knot in his gut eased and how his heart jumped at the sight of the mysterious shifter.
Quinn put up his hand and waved.
A middle aged woman with cat-eye glasses and a mass of brown frizzy hair nodded at him. “It looks like we have two new members today. Take a seat and you can introduce yourself when we get to you. Quinn, please continue.”
Quinn smiled. It felt like the sun peeking out from behind the c
louds. “Oh, he’s the wolf – the one who saved me. And he’s going to rescue me from an evil that I can’t speak of due to a magic spell.”
Tyler decided on annoyed.
5
Non-shadow folk humans didn’t believe in magic, and Quinn knew it. It’s why Dr. Ross thought he was crazy. No matter how little of his life was spent amongst them, he’d learned that even before the Montgomery family took him from his home.
He probably knew it before he could speak.
Many humans had little regard for the ancient forests that his kind resided within—they trudged through them and left bits of colorful plastic behind and stole stones and trees when they saw fit.
Of course, if they happened to catch a glimpse of a silvery white mane amongst the trees and they followed it, or if they stumbled upon a clear stream with a waterfall and a perfectly circular pool at the end, they’d have met one of Quinn’s kin. Whatever disasters befell those humans after such an encounter was purely of their own design.
Yet, those humans were different than these. He knew they wouldn’t believe him, but he didn’t need them to believe him—he needed Tyler to believe him, and the look on the alpha’s face meant that at the very least, Quinn got his attention.
Tyler’s eyes briefly widened and his lips set into a frown that was nearly as dashing as his smile. Well, Quinn imagined it was since he hadn’t seen Tyler smile at all. Maybe that was a wolf thing, or he was just moody.
Either way.
Dashing!
“Oh?” Carol, the group leader, said with an inflection at the end that Quinn knew all too well. It was the ‘he’s completely insane’ inflection he’d heard from Dr. Ross since he was a boy and tried to explain his predicament as best he could.
Humans made that noise whenever he mentioned magic or shifters.
Of course, back then, Montgomery senior had already convinced Dr. Ross that Quinn was delusional so that helped the doctor believe it.
If Quinn had known that, he wasn’t sure what he’d have done differently. It’s not like he could lie when Dr. Ross asked him what was wrong. Well, the necklace and the binding spell kept him from spilling the whole truth, but what he could say still needed to be said.
