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“You keep telling me it’s safe. With her signed up, you’ll be honest with me, right? She’s not going to get raped or something, is she?”
Elliot’s shoulders relaxed a bit as he blew out a long breath. “No. She won’t.” He glanced over, looking tired. “I meant it when I said it’s safe. The females that sign up are willing, like Sydney. But she could end up with an awful mate.”
“What kind of men sign up for it?”
Elliot turned the steering wheel, driving them further from the denser forests and past some open fields toward town. “It’s a mix. Omegas from all over come. It’s their best shot at getting a female. But there are some betas and alphas thrown in. The alphas travel from quite a distance to do it. It’s exotic, apparently. They join for the thrill.”
“That’s stupid.”
Smirking, Elliot snorted. “Stupid as it may seem, there’s definitely an energy that night. Something primal.”
Callum absorbed that. They were shifters. The mating pull was calling him. It wouldn’t be surprising that the Curusm had a palpable vibe to it as well. “What happens tomorrow?”
Elliot frowned. “Tomorrow?”
“Yeah. Is there another meeting? I’m assuming you have to work. What am I expected to do?”
“Oh.” Elliot turned down the main road leading into Thatcher’s little town. “Thatcher will probably have a few meetings this week. There’s a big BBQ on Thursday afternoon. It’s to celebrate the Curusm and welcome newcomers for their upcoming stay.”
“Should I come to the meetings? The BBQ? I’m not running in the Curusm, so I shouldn’t come to the BBQ, right?”
“Come to the BBQ. It’s a welcome to the pack event. It’s a whole thing. Like a mini festival. Food. Entertainment. Everyone will be there.” Elliot turned the radio down when the classic rock station switched to an advertisement block. “The meetings…come or don’t come. Might be better if you don’t draw unwanted attention. You’ve come to one, you’ve shown your respect to the alpha–”
“Is that what I’ve done?” Callum teased. “What do I do all day, though? I’m used to having a job.”
“Maybe just shadow Rafe.” His cousin shrugged. “Between Rafe and Anna, I’m sure they can come up with lots for you to do.” Elliot turned into a parking lot and backed the truck into a vacant space next to a building for a towing and garage business. “Mom might have a few projects she needs done around the store. I can ask her.”
“Okay.” Callum leaned forward to peer out the front window.
A red neon sign read: Tow and Go Bros. As they’d pulled in, Callum had seen two tow trucks at the back of the building. It looked as though there were at least three bays at the front.
“These guys…” Elliot trailed off, stared at the brown brick building.
Callum glanced over.
“I trust Rafe with my life.”
Understanding, Callum looked back at the building. “But these guys you don’t?”
“I do.” His head shook as he seemed to figure out his next words. “I have, actually.” He sighed. “They’re good guys.”
“But…”
“I said you can speak freely with Rafe. Just be aware of these guys. We’re not a hundred percent sure where their loyalties lie.”
Grabbing the door handle, Callum nodded. “Got it.”
Together, they crossed the pavement. Rock music blared from the open bay door. Elliot led the way through the bay door and into the garage. In the farthest bay, a truck was on a hoist as a young man in denim overalls worked on the brakes. An old Buick occupied the middle bay, and the last was empty.
The scent of fuel, oil and dirt occupied the enclosed space. Tool chests monopolized the far wall, and above them hung a variety of tools. Nearest the main building were tall gray cabinets and a long wooden workbench with two stools taking up a good portion of the back wall. A stereo sat on the workbench, providing the music that thumped through the garage. Next to it was a mug half full with what looked like coffee.
Remaining focused on his task, the man under the truck didn’t bother to look over.
Callum followed as Elliot crossed the cement floor and turned down the radio.
Moments later, the door to the building opened and a man about their age stepped through. Dark blue coveralls were unbuttoned down his chest, revealing a gray shirt streaked with grease and dirt. A backward facing ball cap hid most of his hair, but the bits sticking out beneath it were damp with sweat. Facial hair framed his mouth and jaw, and thick, dark eyebrows sat above a set of dark gray eyes.
In one hand, he held a reusable water bottle. Taking a swig, he let the door slam shut behind him. “Figured it would be you touching my radio.”
