Mabel circled his ankles again, purring up a storm.
He crouched, rubbing the top of her head, getting a small headbutt in return. “You keep this place running, don’t you, furball?”
Clint watched, arms crossed, eyebrows raised. “She tolerates you. That’s a good sign.”
“Wish everyone was so easy to win over.”
Clint’s mouth quirked again, that half-smile that didn’t quite meet his brown eyes but was still real. “Give it time. Around here, things get weird fast.”
Bayne nearly said, “So do I.” Instead, he shrugged, tossed the towel in the laundry, and leaned against the fridge. “Let me know when it’s time to go.”
Clint downed his own coffee, shoulders slowly unknotting as the caffeine started to work. “Hour or so. I’ll call ahead, let them know I’m bringing backup.”
“You want me as muscle or just a second set of hands?”
“Depends.” Clint’s gaze slid over Bayne, assessing. “You any good at paperwork?”
Bayne grinned, flashing teeth. “I’m barely literate. Wolves don’t do forms.”
It was a joke, but the reward was worth it.
Clint smirked, placing the empty mug in the sink. “That’s what I thought. You can carry the heavy stuff, then. Maybe keep the animals off the paperwork.”
A small sound escaped Bayne, almost a laugh. “I’ll see what I can do.”
The banter was good. Washed away the ache under his ribcage and the confusion about last night. Nothing else mattered, not the gaps in his memory or the sense that shadows still hunted him. Not with Clint so close Bayne could taste his scent in the air.
He looked down at his arms, skin unmarred. Clint’s handiwork from last night was gone, replaced by the body’s own repairs. Bayne wondered if his mate realized just how much he’d already fixed.
“All right,” Clint said, voice breaking the quiet. “You showered, you ate, and you look almost human. Give me thirty for a shower, and we’ll hit the road.”
Bayne didn’t argue. He just nodded and made himself comfortable, stretching out on the battered couch with its pillows, old threadbare fleece, and sense of peace he was pretty sure he hadn’t felt in a long time.
Chapter Four
Zeppelin paced the length of his room, back and forth, boots making quiet thuds on the carpet. His nerves didn’t usually bother him like this, not after years of dealing with pack business, vampire attacks, and demon brawls that left half his men laid up for days.
This was different.
Bayne was late. Not five minutes late or even a half-hour. Zeppelin couldn’t brush it off and pretend nothing was wrong. This was the kind of late that settled into his gut, clenching tight every time he glanced at the clock.
Sunlight streamed through the window, lighting dust motes that spun in the bright beams. The world outside was quiet and green, the forest bordering the house standing so still it might’ve been painted there. From his window, Zeppelin could spot the line of cars parked along the drive and the basketball hoop beside the garage.
Every instinct said Bayne should’ve checked in. They’d agreed on it three nights ago, both leaning over maps and scrawled notes while the rest of the pack snored in their rooms or watched TV with the sound turned up too loud. Two texts, minimum, and a call if shit went sideways. Not hearing anything at all? That wasn’t like Bayne.
Not even close.
Zeppelin’s claws partially shifted as he ran a hand through his hair, the familiar burn of nerves dancing along his arms. Bayne could take care of himself, but even the best sometimes needed backup. That’s what the pack was for.
The town’s drug problem had gotten out of hand. It was bad enough dealing with human drugs, but what if liquid wrath had resurfaced or a variant of it? That drug was meant for shifters, vampires, even demons. If taken by a human, it resulted in instant death.
He remembered when Bayne used to disappear for days at a time and come back looking half-dead, eyes empty of anything but a hunger that never seemed to fade. Zeppelin and the other pack members had fought like hell to get Bayne clean. Two recovering addicts under their roof. Jalen was off the pills and looking a lot healthier and even had a slight glow to him. Chase was good for Jalen, and the human was definitely good for the wolf.
If only Bayne would find his mate. Not that finding one’s mate was a cure-all, but it gave a preternatural purpose. Grounded them in ways nothing else could.
Now, Zeppelin wondered if he’d sent Bayne right back into that hell. He clenched his hands so tight the knuckles threatened to break skin.
“Stop imagining the worst. Liquid wrath hasn’t been on the streets in over a decade.” But a variant could be out there. Just because one preternatural drug left the scene didn’t mean another one hadn’t taken its place.
