Lone Wolf

by Shelley Munro

  His father didn’t only want him to give up art. He wanted him to quit painting and never pick up a paintbrush again. He wanted another werewolf clone to join his office and make the pack proud.

  Corey grabbed the fliers and started to stuff the envelopes. Why had their species changed so radically? Why had they gone underground, never to embrace their heritage? They were like brainless mutts following stupid orders.

  Corey continued working, trying to decide what to do with his future, his mind running in ten directions at once. He placed the last envelope on the pile to post. Aw, hell. He only had one option and he knew it.

  Teague ripped his gaze off the small portable television set to accept the cola Corey handed him. “What are you going to do?”

  “I’ve talked to Gerald and handed in my notice. I—”

  “Wait! You handed in your notice?”

  “Yeah.”

  “But what are you gonna do?”

  Corey stared at the television screen, recalling his father’s icy anger in the gallery, the smug certainty his son would follow his orders. A newsflash of the president’s visit to neighboring Oregon flickered across the screen. Jeez, he could see more of himself in the president than he could his father. They’d never had a thing in common. It was almost as if his father hated him. “I’m going back to Yellowstone, to see if there’s a chance for me and R.J.”

  “Good for you! Will you give up your apartment?”

  “No. I sold two more paintings today. I have plenty to cover the rent. If you wouldn’t mind living here, I can leave most of my stuff.”

  Teague leaned back, his lips quirking up with approval. “So you’re going back to Yellowstone.”

  “After I talk to my father.”

  “Your father’s scary.”

  “Try telling me something I don’t know.” Facing his father would take guts, but he didn’t intend to take the coward’s way out either. “Would a job in the gallery interest you? I can put in a good word for you.”

  “Great!”

  “Gerald will probably hit on you.”

  “But he’s a decent employer?”

  “The best. I’ll tell him you’re straight when I talk to him.”

  “How are you gonna handle your father?”

  “Not sure yet. I’m not telling him about Yellowstone. I don’t want him to make trouble for Hal and R.J.”

  Corey dragged himself from bed early the next morning, a dull sense of foreboding hitting him from the moment of full awareness.

  He popped a suppression pill from a blister pack and swallowed it dry. He needed more pills, yet he’d prevaricated about filling another prescription because the idea of taking the special higher dose pills again, totally subduing his wolf, didn’t trip his switch.

  And his father had noticed the difference, even if he hadn’t clicked as to the cause.

  Yet.

  He’d need a tight grip on his wolf today. He’d never step into the pack containment area again, if he had his way.

  Foregoing his normal makeup, he dressed and headed for the kitchen. One benefit he’d discovered in having a roommate was that the first one up made coffee. He followed the scent to their small kitchen area.

  “Gerald said he can see you today and to drop in when you have time.”

  “Thanks, dude. You okay?”

  Damn. “I was hoping my nerves weren’t showing.”

  “They’re not. Lucky guess. I’d be shaking if I were in your shoes.”

  Corey grunted and poured two mugs of coffee. He shunted one at Teague. “Do you want me to drop you at the gallery?”

  “Sure, if you have time.”

  They drove to the gallery in silence, each deep in thought. Unfortunately, the traffic was lighter than usual and Corey reached his father’s office building with time to spare.

  Oh hell. Taking a deep breath, he swiped his palms down his jeans to dry them. He climbed out of his car and entered the tall glass skyscraper. As usual he reported in at the reception desk. His father didn’t welcome visitors wandering around his building. Everyone, even him, suffered an escort to their destination.

  “I have an appointment with my father at nine,” Corey said.

  The attractive blonde behind the reception desk scanned his form rapidly. Her top lip curled a fraction before she spoke into her ear piece. Disdain in one easy glance.

  “Mr. Wilson’s secretary will come down to accompany you to the top floor. Wait over there.”

  Corey wandered over to the seating area, picked up a magazine and sat down. He ignored the receptionist’s curious gaze and flipped over a page. Instead of reading, Corey stared at the article. He still hadn’t decided what he’d say to his father, how he’d tell him art trumped office work every time.

  Ten minutes later, the secretary arrived and the man silently led the way to the elevator. He escorted him into his father’s office.

  The office was a corner one, the two floor-to-ceiling glass walls showcasing spectacular views of the city and the surrounding hills. This office drilled in the truth to those who came to do business. I am important. I have money and power.

  His father was a snob.

  He sat behind his huge wooden desk in an executive chair designed to maintain correct posture. He didn’t stand on Corey’s entry or invite Corey to sit.

  The power play.

  Corey came to a halt by the two chairs arranged in front of his father’s desk. Comfortable chairs, they were the sort to make the occupant sprawl backward, no matter how straight they attempted to sit. Another subtle power play. Corey remained standing, balancing his weight evenly and waited for his father to speak first.

  “I’m pleased you’ve come to your senses.” His expression didn’t match his words.

  Corey waited for his father’s secretary to close the door behind him. “I’m not coming to work for you. I figured I should tell you in person.”

  Emotion blazed aplenty this time. The dominant one of temper marched across his father’s face. “Fuckin’ idiot.” His hand closed around his gold pen, the distinct crack when it snapped making Corey wince. Half rolled onto his father’s desk while the rest dropped to the carpet out of sight.

  Corey fought the desire to fidget. “I can’t—”

  “I mean what I say. If you don’t start work today, I will shun you. Your mother will shun you. We won’t change our minds.”

  “I’m sorry you feel that way.” Corey swallowed in an attempt to dislodge the lump in his throat. They’d never been close, but he’d never suspected his father hated him. “I’ll stop by the house to say goodbye to Mom.”

  “I’ll tell her you’ve gone.” His father picked up a folder and opened it to study the contents in silent dismissal. He produced another gold pen from a drawer and jotted a note on the page.

  Shock held Corey rigid. Heat rushed to his face while invisible, icy hands squeezed his chest. He hesitated a fraction longer before turning for the door.

  Total commitment to his art was his dream and the ability to do this should’ve thrilled him. Instead, his father had stolen the victory away from him.

  “You don’t have to come with me to the airport.”

  “I’m your friend,” Teague said gruffly. “Besides, you’ve done a lot for me.”

  Corey shrugged, uncomfortable at the sentiments. “I’m letting you stay in my apartment and drive my car. Big deal.”

  “Thanks to you I have a part-time job. Gerald said one of his friends might have a job for me at his restaurant.”

  “Gerald’s a great guy if you can get past his weird outfits and outlandish behavior.”

  “You were good training.” Teague’s grin held a hint of sly. “I remember the way you looked when you arrived at Yellowstone. Stark black with a pudgy white face.”

  “I never had a pudgy face.”

  “Did too.”

  Corey chuckled at the ridiculous conversation. At least he possessed friends even if his family and pack shunned him. “Do
you mind if we drive past my parents’ house before we hit the airport? I can’t leave without saying goodbye to my mom.”

  “It’s your car.”

  “Yours now. Use it as much as you want.”

  “Thanks, Corey. I appreciate your generosity.”

  “Shut up,” Corey said. “You don’t owe me anything.” Teague’s presence had helped him to keep sane since their return from Yellowstone. If anything, he owed Teague.

  The surroundings grew more luxurious, the houses larger and more imposing and the vehicles more expensive as they neared his parents’ house.

  Teague whistled when Corey pulled up in front of gold gilded gates. “I still can’t get over this house. Some digs.”

  “Yeah.” Teague wouldn’t understand how lonely he’d been as a child, despite the large number of staff. “I’ll leave the car out here in case my father is home. He should be at work by now but you never know.” Without waiting for Teague’s reply, he climbed out of the car and hurried to the small side entrance gate. He pushed several numbers on the keypad, part of him surprised when his code still worked. The gate clicked shut behind him, the loud clack making him start. His heart battered his ribs in a rapid tattoo and a nervous laugh emerged.

  Weird. Not a single bird chirped.

  The instant the thought registered, he paused and sniffed. A familiar scent filled his nostrils and lungs. He sniffed again to make sure. This time he proceeded with caution, gliding into the undergrowth instead of taking the winding path leading directly to the front door.

  The scent of wolf smelled stronger here. Corey cautiously peered through a gap in the foliage of a bush. His heart practically forced itself up his throat.

  Enforcers. Three of them.

  He ducked down, making himself small.

  Were they here for him? Would his father really throw him to the wolves?

  The static of a radio reached him. “No, nothing here. I’m going to send Rick to man the entrance gate.”

  Stealthily, Corey backed away. Once out of sight, he hurried through the undergrowth. Soon, someone would realize he’d punched in his code, if they hadn’t already. He picked up his pace, yet took care with his footing, racing adjacent to the path, not wanting the crunch of gravel underfoot to give him away.

  Once at the gate, he flung it open, thankful he didn’t need to punch in a code this side of the fence. Seconds later he wrenched open the driver’s door and jumped inside his car.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Enforcers.” Corey didn’t waste another breath. He peeled away from the curb, fear prodding him to speed. He didn’t understand why Enforcers guarded the house, but given the way he and his father parted, he didn’t intend to confront them and ask questions.

  Chapter Ten

  He missed him. Badly.

  Corey’s absence ached like a broken bone during a cold snap. An image of Corey’s face, the hurt and the betrayal, stained his memories. The vision turned into an accusing nightmare, stalking him whenever he dozed. A good fuck. The words echoed through his mind in a taunting litany.

  The truth, but what he’d failed to add was the way Corey claimed his heart. He missed him.

  “R.J.? What is wrong with you?” Hal’s abrupt demand broke through his tortured thoughts.

  R.J. focused on his untouched meal. His stomach churned like the Yellowstone river rapids. He tossed his knife and fork down, unable to eat. Every mouthful tasted about as appetizing as frozen winter grass anyway.

  “R.J.?” This time Hal grasped his shoulder and tugged for good measure. “I’ve been talking to myself for five minutes.”

  “Sorry, what did you say?”

  “I was telling you about my cousins who arrive tomorrow.”

  “So soon?”

  “Yes.”

  R.J. forced his mind to practicalities. “How long are they visiting?”

  “A few days.” Hal’s gaze drilled into R.J., concern creating a frown. “Are you sure there’s nothing bothering you?”

  “Nothing I can’t fix.”

  “You’ll need to keep your wits about you while my relations are here.”

  “Why? Are they rabid?”

  “I want to make sure they stay out of trouble. That we stay out of trouble.”

  It was R.J.’s turn to frown. “I won’t let you down. You can count on me. I’ll do everything in my power to make sure your cousins have a good time while they’re here.”

  “As long as we don’t have any surprise admin visits from the board.”

  “Hell, don’t even think it,” R.J. warned. “One visit a year is more than enough.” He stood, grabbing Hal’s empty plate and the remains of his meal to carry out to the kitchen. “I haven’t been sleeping well. I might have an early night.”

  “We’ll need to discuss the next intake of students tomorrow. Decide on which ones to admit and work out if we can fit in another scholarship student.”

  “Sure. What time do your cousins arrive?”

  “In the afternoon, assuming they make the connecting flights.”

  “Do you want to sort out the intake tomorrow morning then?”

  “Works for me.”

  The next afternoon Hal jumped every time the wind rattled through the tree outside his office. R.J. would have laughed, but he wasn’t in much better condition.

  “I’m going for a run,” he said. “You don’t need me, right?”

  “Go ahead.”

  “We haven’t utilized the area over to the west. I want to explore, see if it’s suitable to use for some of our classes.”

  Hal nodded. “See you later.”

  R.J. drove and parked his vehicle at the end of the track. This time he chose an arduous route, one he knew most casual human tourists would consider twice before choosing. Once he’d trekked out of sight of the parking area, he scrutinized his surroundings, testing the air twice to make certain he was alone.

  When nothing except the chatter of a curious chipmunk disturbed the peace, he set down his day pack and whipped off his clothes. After stuffing them into his pack, he put it plus his boots under a bush, camouflaging both with dried leaves.

  The air brushed across his naked skin like a caress. Unfortunately, the whisper-soft stroke reminded him of Corey. Everything reminded him of Corey. The kid plain haunted him, or perhaps it was his guilty conscience.

  R.J. called up his wolf, embracing the shift before he raced through the forest, attempting to outrun his demons.

  The Enforcers rattled Corey big time. At the last minute, he’d purchased a ticket to New York rather than flying to an airport near Yellowstone.

  Personally, Teague thought he’d overreacted, but his friend could afford the eccentricity. Teague couldn’t. Since Corey’s departure, he’d filled his day with job interviews and work at the gallery.

  Corey had spoken the truth about the gallery. Gerald was a good employer despite his flamboyant ways. Thanks to his new boss, this morning he’d scored a job waiting tables at a popular Italian restaurant. While the wages weren’t great, the place was trendy and booked solid and the tips would swell his savings. He didn’t give a rat’s ass for fashion or trends, but if they helped him provide for his mother and brothers he was in favor of exclusivity.

  With plenty of time to spare, he dressed in black trousers and the shirt provided by the restaurant.

  A thump on his apartment door brought a scowl. No one knew he lived there, apart from Gerald. A casual visitor shouldn’t have made it past the doorman and the security door below.

  He hesitated and sniffed. Even with the suppression drugs, he sensed wolf.

  Shit. He delayed even longer before grimacing. This was stupid. He hadn’t done anything wrong. He padded from the bedroom out into the hall. Another series of thumps echoed and made the door jump on its hinges.

  “Hang on!” He peered through the security spy hole.

  Two big men flanked a man in an expensive business suit. When they moved, he recognized Corey’s father.
A third even bigger man stood close to his door. Obviously the one who’d threatened to beat his door down. Hell, this did not look good.

  Swallowing down his trepidation, he opened the door.

  “Where’s Corey?” Corey’s father came straight to the point. The man didn’t look much like his son. He’d thought the same the other night.

  “Corey went to New York.” Despite himself, a tremor crept into his voice. Those three dudes looked scary.

  “New York?” Corey’s father’s gaze sliced and diced, leaving Teague full of foreboding. Aw, fuck. He didn’t believe him.

  “Yeah, I dropped him off at the airport a few days ago. I—” He broke off deciding to stick to scant facts.

  “I what?”

  “I was gonna say I haven’t heard from him.”

  “What’s he doing in New York?”

  “Job hunting, I think.” Teague found himself crumbling under the harsh glare from Corey’s father. “He wanted to pursue his art.”

  Corey’s father lifted a brow and fear writhed inside Teague. Fuck. Corey was right to worry about his father. Not paranoid at all. The man didn’t bear an ounce of affection for his son, not one that showed on his face. And what sort of parent took along three big goons for protection when he wanted information about his son? Didn’t bode well, not for him or Corey.

  “Where in New York?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “You’re lying.” Corey’s father flicked a glance in the direction of the nearest goon. “Bring him with us. We’ll get answers one way or another.”

  The goon pounced before Teague could react or try to duck. He didn’t see the fist coming until it struck his face.

  Most people would call him paranoid. Teague hadn’t believed him or understood his concern once he’d seen the Enforcers. Corey trusted his instincts, which meant taking the long way back to Yellowstone, starting with a flight to New York and a combination of planes, trains and buses to reach his final destination. He didn’t want to create problems for R.J.