Page 60 of Paw or Less


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“Sure, why not?” Mars smiled back at Dave.

“So, Mr. Casey.” Dave splashed two measures of Johnnie Black in two tumblers. “What can I do for you?”

Dave was a handsome man, Mars thought. He was tall, almost as tall as Mars. He had lots of lean muscle and hazel eyes. His sandy blonde hair was long and curly. He had to be in his forties, though he didn’t look a day over thirty-five. That had to be the shifter genes.

And Dave was also charismatic. Very charismatic. That must have been how he made his money.

Dave handed Mars his glass, and at that second, thunder cracked, rolling across the sky.

“Terrible weather this. Sends all the little animals scurrying for shelter.” Dave pulled a cigar from his jacket pocket.

“Yes, it does, doesn’t it?” Mars followed Dave to the twin armchairs.

“So, Mr. Casey, I’ll ask again. To what do I owe the pleasure?” Dave was more direct.

Dave wasn’t an alpha. Mars knew that right away. Though he was trying to act like one. But he certainly wasn’t the leader of a pack or the head of a sleuth.

Instead, he was an impotent little man filled with rage and spite. He was probably a sexual sadist too, Mars thought, as he watched Dave’s hand tighten around the glass a fraction.

“I’d like to know why you’ve been killing women who look like my mate.” Mars threw all caution to the wind.

He wasn’t going to pretend that he wasn’t a shifter in front of the other man. Mr. Henson had to know he had been threatening the mate of an alpha.

Mars wanted Dave to be sure of the crimes he had committed before Mars killed him.

“Well, Mr. Casey, it is quite simple, really. Your mate, the human girl, took my wife and little girl away from me.”

“Because you were abusing them,” Mars said, his voice devoid of emotion.

Lightning, unaccompanied by booming thunder, flashed overhead. The LED television that had been playing in the background went silent.

Dave shrugged carelessly, swallowing the last of his whiskey.

“She was my wife, Mr. Casey. My wife. She had to be taught how to behave.”

Mars swallowed his anger. He put his glass down carefully on a side table. He was careful not to put it directly on the wood.

“The drink not to your liking, Mr. Casey?” Dave’s voice was mocking.

More silent lightning sparked through the sky.

Mars looked over at Dave.

“I don’t tolerate wife beaters in my town, Mr. Henson,” he said after a while.

Dave laughed out loud.

“What an old-world view to take, Mr. Casey. You make this sound like a town out west. But I’ll concede to your point since you own ninety percent of this area. But my wife is my property. I own her and will do with her as I please.”

Mars nodded. Dave put his empty glass down and stood. “If you don’t like that, Mr. Casey, I suggest you return what belongs to me, and I will leave your town.”

Thunder cracked.

Mars shifted.

He had perfected the spontaneous, almost immediate shift years ago. It was painful and uncomfortable.

Dave couldn’t have been too drunk because he shifted almost right away too.

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