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Before I can open my mouth, he uses his speed to get to the back of the bar. I don’t miss the smirk he throws over his shoulder at me before he disappears down the hall. It’s not long before a knock comes from the bar door. It’s locked since it’s after hours, but a small part of me wonders if it’s Cali. Maybe Mila told her I was already here so she came to help clean.
Scooting off the stool, wondering who else Gideon hired, I take a few steps to the door and swing it open. My breath catches in my throat when patchouli hits my nose, and my eyes adjust to the bright sun—perfectly tamed blonde curls, expertly painted red lips, and piercing green eyes stare at me from the other side of the door. Her nose is turned up in disgust as she looks down at me.
“I knew you’d be here,” Monique sneers, pushing past me into the bar. She looks around the low lit space, dragging a finger over the bar top and rubbing the nonexistent dirt between two fingers.
Chapter fourteen
Gideon
Deep cleaning the bar is the one thing I never delegate. I love being here when it’s empty, when I can play any song I want on the bluetooth speakers, when I can get lost in thinking that I’m not the alpha of my pack. It makes me feel normal, like my biggest concern is whether I cleaned out all the old containers in the fridge and scrubbed the sink thoroughly enough.
Today, however, my visit with Grant takes over my thoughts. Raymond Grant is the biggest bastard, which is never surprising. It takes a special breed of bastard to lead the other assholes without being constantly challenged for your position at the head.
I caught him by surprise this morning, waiting to catch him on the road heading toward the council lodge. I sat in the middle of the pavement, flicking my tail and patiently waiting for his driver to stop the car. Grant recognized me immediately, throwing open the back passenger door with a sigh.
“What is it now, Disantollo?” he’d asked impatiently.
I stood just outside the door, snarling at his laid back posture on the backseat of the black sedan.“I want to know what’s happening with my territory lines.”
He raised a brow at me, a smug grin splitting his face. “Ah, so you’ve finally caught onto that.”
“What the hell is going on?”I growled, my jowls dripping onto his leather seat.
His gaze flicked down at the saliva in distaste. “I wanted an unclaimed territory separating our council from your… mongrel pack.” He waved his hand in the air, as if swatting away a fly.
“You think my pack is full of mongrels? What do you think is breeding in that free range territory you’ve created, Grant?”I placed one paw on the leather seat, letting my claws pierce the thick fabric, tearing large gashes into it.“If we’re mongrels, then what do you call a councilman working with a witch?”
His head swiveled toward me, anger written on his face. “Don’t make accusations you yourself are guilty of.”
A dark laugh escapes me.“Go ask Rathmann about the love note he left for me. Let me know how well you trust him after that.”
Pushing off the leather seat, tearing the fabric down to the base, I darted back into the woods.
Now, in the breakroom, I scowl as I look into the fridge. This council is becoming more corrupt with every decade that passes, corrupt and unpredictable. A combination that will never sit well with me.
My ears perk up as I hear the metal of the bar door clank shut. No one should be here until later tonight when the bar opens. I step out into the hall, keeping to the shadows as voices drift toward me.
“What… what do you want?” Adara asks, her hand still on the door as she keeps her distance from the tall blonde.
Witch,my wolf snarls.
“What? Nohow are you, Mother? NoI’m sorry for burning down your house and ripping away your gifted daughter?” the other woman asks, arrogance seeping off her in waves.
Adara scoffs. “I don’t have anything to apologize for, and I especially don’t have anyone to call Mother.”
Her mother sighs, shaking her head. “I want you to come home. Is that so terrible?”
“No, I’m never…” Adara says warily, narrowing her eyes at her. “You’re hunting me for the coven, so why are you here alone.”
My body tenses at her words. The coven is hunting her, and she knew—she knew and didn’t tell me. She also knew her mother was a part of the hunt.
Her mother laughs, the sound like nails dragging down glass. “I’m not only hunting you for the coven, Adara, I’m leading the hunt.” She turns, taking a glance around the bar, sneering in disgust. “Come home, and we can talk to the other priestesses about a deal for you. Let us experiment on you, and they’ll probably let you live.”
Adara’s hand on the door tightens, her knuckles turning white. “You know those experiments are a death sentence. I’ll die either way.”
Shrugging, her mother smirks and tosses her curls over one shoulder. “You’re right, that’s no way to make you come home, is it? I should’ve started with, we’ll let Juliana live. Is that better?”
Silver flashes through Adara’s eyes, and I bite back the urge to rush to her… At least until she’s in true danger. I want her to see that her mother isn’t anything more than a mouthy witch, that she’s capable of standing up to her on her own.
