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“Yeah.”
“That’s… because that’s what the vamp I snagged said. If I go in flashing my badge, they’ll know who I am right off. Undercover, Wolfe. I told you that in the car. This place is like a nightclub for the local Nightwalkers or some shit like that.” Wright couldn’t hide his disdain as he snorted. “They insist on a dress code.”
They insisted on it, so Wright insisted on it.
Good. It gave him the perfect reason to go ahead with what he wanted to do without Wright turning it into a dick-measuring contest. He’d been better lately, but Colt wasn’t about to push it while they were on enemy territory.
He waved down at his body. “Well, I’m dressed up alright. And, let me tell you, this place doesn’t only belong to the corpses. There’s humans here, too. Lots of them. Why should we go in through the back? If it’s undercover, and you’re willing to bet your life, we should just walk in through the front door.”
Wright pursed his lips, not answering right away.
Colt wasn’t a moron. He knew what Wright was up to. He even admitted it himself: his reckless behavior had always been a ploy to lure the Nightwalkers to him and no one else. Wright wanted to take down the threat himself.
He wanted to be the fucking hero.
Dodge was taking some of his deadtime to check Adam Wright out. Colt put him up to it and Dodge, agreeing something was up, added it to his ongoing hunt for Cilla.
Word from the ghost was that Wright had developed a reckless edge even before Evangeline was involved in this mess. In fact, Wright’s dev
il may care attitude began right around the time Maddox formally claimed Evangeline.
No wonder he wanted to make a big statement against this Para threat.
Too bad that none of the drained donors had transformed into ghosts themselves. That would’ve made things so much easier for all of them and he could let Wright go on his suicide mission on his own.
Nope. Instead, Colt was wearing a monkey suit, trying to ignore the rotting stink that was going to take ages to get out of his fur while waiting for Wright to give him one good reason why he was trying to sneak in the back like a coward.
Predatory shifters—except when they were in the middle of a stealthy hunt—always entered through the front. When you were sure that you were the biggest, baddest beast around, there was no sneaking anywhere.
Colt raised his eyebrows.
“Okay. Fine. We’re undercover, but it’s more recon than anything else. Understand? Look, I’m not sure if my guy was bluffing or not when he said we might find some answers here,” Wright added. “I figured our best bet was to play at being one of the clubgoers once we get inside. So, first, we gotta get inside.”
Colt just managed to resist the urge to curl his lip. That’s exactly what he thought. Great. He had to actually walk into this Para club and pretend like he wanted to be there.
But if this was the lead that Wright had, then fuck it. Maddox wasn’t there to avenge the attack on Evangeline. If Colt could use some of the intel they picked up while in the club to stand up for his brother and his mate-in-law, then it would be worth it.
Still, sneaking in through the back wasn’t his style, and that was assuming it didn’t have a guard on the other side waiting to pounce on them because they were going in blind. And, considering the number of cars creating their own parking lot on the land, someone was bound to see them heading in.
No. Walking into the club, announcing his presence… that was how it was going to go down. Being brash and honest—except when it came to him accepting his own feelings—that’s who Colton Wolfe was.
Wright was just going to have to deal with it.
“Right. So we’re here to have a night out. We’re dressed right, and if they have a problem with my wolf, I’m used to it. It won’t stop me. If I have to shift, it is what it is. No rule in the Claws Clause that says I can’t so long as it’s not a government building. We saw the sign. I think we’re in the clear.”
To be honest, he was almost hoping for one of the Nightwalkers to give him any excuse to break out in his fur. So, sure he was going to get his way, he started for the corner, aiming to finish their perimeter check before heading back toward the front door.
He had to give Wright some credit. As the cop jogged to catch up with him, the breeze blew his scent right by Colt. His normally spicy sent had the sour tinge of fear to it, mixed with adrenaline’s ooze.
Wright was nervous, but he didn’t try to argue again.
Instead, he asked, “You sure it’s a mixed crowd?”
Yeah. He was sure.
“There’s gonna be a ton of Ants in there. You’ll fit in just fine.”
“How do you know?”
