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“Which would be?” Lev asked, jumping in.
“Homicide,” the second woman said, whose name escaped Noah through the pumping, discordant guitar surrounding them. “He’s not just strong … he’s also a little nuts. Mix crazy with power, and you’ve got a volatile weapon.”
Lev and Noah ended their discussion with the women tactfully. Neither seemed to know or care about who they were, which was reassuring. But Noah was starting to feel sick in his stomach at the thought of an unhinged, rule-breaking alpha shifter.
Lev clapped him on the shoulder as if sensing it.
“Let’s go chat with the boys in the booth. Get Chris and Simon.”
Noah slithered through the crowd and motioned to the men, who had followed orders and maintained their position at the end of the bar. When Simon’s eyes lit up about the boys in the corner, Noah had to touch his chest to stop him from charging.
“Don’t forget what Lev said, all right?” Noah said firmly, attempting to intimidate the squirrely bastard just a little. “Don’t give them a fucking reason.”
“Yes, yes, of course.” Simon nodded frantically.
Noah didn’t like the glint of glee in his eye, but Chris was helpful. He took Simon by the shoulder, and they swayed their way toward their destination.
Lev was a charming fellow when he really wanted to be. He had already started up the conversation and was leaning up against the booth with a beer in hand. Noah was relieved to see that his posture was that of old pals.
“Ahh, yes, Noah,” Lev said, giving him a nod. “These lads were just telling me about their alpha, Dustin, the one we’ve been looking for.”
Noah saw Simon open his mouth out of the corner of his eye, then shut it promptly, like his jaw was attached with string. Lev and Noah shared a knowing glance, which made his rigid bones finally go soft.
“How are you all feeling about your alpha these days?” Noah asked nonchalantly.
The two men were bears. They possessed the thickness and height of grizzlies but with more sagging skin of age, deep folds of displeasure and exhaustion set like valleys in their foreheads and necks. Noah sensed that neither wanted violence the way their alpha seemed to. That was a good sign.
The shifter wearing a bandana that held together a thick mane of curly black hair rolled his eyes, nursing a beer sweating from disuse between his hands.
“Don’t even get me fucking started,” he mused.
“Oh, I’ll get you started,” the second shifter said, leaning forward on the table. “The guy is a goddamn lunatic. There isn’t a sane bone in his body, and we’re all fed up with it.”
Noah and Lev exchanged glances. Noah took a seat next to the men, as did Chris and Simon, a sea of brown beer bottles stacked between them.
“It’s really that bad, huh?” Noah said, spinning another Jack and Coke in his hands.
“He’s psychotic,” the man leaning forward said with an uncomfortable chuckle. “I have no idea how the man has remained a leader for so long. He is the opposite of everything an alpha is supposed to be … meticulous, brave, thoughtful, and smart. He follows his damn impulses like a junkie, never taking into account the needs of his clan. Not for a sliver of a second.”
“It sounds like you’re in the market for another alpha?” Lev tossed in boldly.
The bandana-sporting shifter cackled, raising the bottle to his lips.
“Why, do you know of any?”
Lev leaned forward on the table. He had a presence about him that made everyone in the room want to pay attention to him. The sarcastic and pained looks of Dustin’s clan grew gravely pale.
“I’m sure you know who we are,” Lev began. “We know that Dustin came back for revenge. Like you said, on a whim. The man he wants dead is sitting before you today.”
Lev pointed at Noah, whose eyes moved unfixed to the table.
He ran a fingertip along the rim of the glass, making it sing. He didn’t fear his own death. He feared any harm coming to his beloved.
The clan looked at him, alarmed. Lev went on.
“And judging by what you just told me, neither of you are exactly on board with those whims.”
They shook their heads simultaneously, spit flying from the shorter one’s lips.
