“All right.”
When she nodded reluctantly, he expelled a relieved breath. “You fly.” He gave her a parting wink and tumbled through the window, landing in a leaden heap in the bushes below. He shifted, the wolf bounding toward his truck, still parked in the rear lot where they’d left it. The beast moved less gracefully than usual, but not as sluggishly as the man.
She climbed out of the window and raced after him. Bundled him into the back of the vehicle, got behind the wheel, and tore ass down the mountain with teeth-jangling speed. Stopping briefly at the cabin to snatch up a bag of clothes.
And then on into Los Lobos. Slamming into the sidewalk abutting The Den. Where it had all ended for Brick. Or begun.
He sprang out of the back of the truck, a huge, furred frenzy, and marched to her side, his movements fluid, his lope confident. I got this, baby was stamped across his snout, written in every ripple of muscle. His jaws closed around their bag. A thrill of excitement zipped through her. She wrapped her hand in his thick scruff and walked into the bar beside him. By the spirit of the Great Hawk, she loved this guy. Man. Beast. The whole gorgeous package.
“So you finally ready to settle up your bar tab, boy?” The huge werebear lumbered behind the bar of The Den, moving toward the antique cash register. He’d brushed his black hair back from his broad, weathered forehead, twisting it into a two tight braids that flowed over his shoulders and swung when he moved. A silver and turquoise earring, shaped like a dreamcatcher and dripping three tiny feathers, dangled from one ear. His blue cambric work shirt covered the tats and arrow scars Brick had seen marking his chest.
He stared back at his mentor, the sole friend he’d had in the world—until Summer had flown into his life and thumped him in the ribcage with a Ram truck medallion, capturing his heart.
He dumped the bag of clothes on the floor. Shifting back into human form, he yanked on a pair of jeans, patting the pocket for his wallet. “Yeah, what’s the damage?”
“Let’s see…considering you guzzled like a fish, nearly got my liquor license yanked a few times, and broke up the place when you lunged for Magnum—not to mention ten years of compounded interest? I reckon that’s about $19,000 you owe me.”
Next to him, Summer gasped, bristling and furious on his behalf. “That’s price gouging, you cheat,” she hissed. “He couldn’t possibly have run up that big a tab here. He was just a kid when he got his head handed to him and you didn’t do anything to stop it. Interest? Are you kidding?”
“Yeah, he is, sweetheart,” Brick whispered. He ran a hand over her soft hair. His turn to soothe her ruffled feathers for once. He nuzzled her neck, inhaling her essence. His own scent remained faint on her skin. He’d have to do something about that soon. Make sure he’d marked and claimed her. Mated her.
“She’s right, Gee. So how about I just save The Den for you, and maybe all of Los Lobos along with it?”
“What’s this about saving Los Lobos?” A tall man with brown hair and compelling blue eyes uncoiled himself from his bar stool. He didn’t bear any resemblance to his late father whatsoever. Had to be Drew, though. He remembered the intense eyes from when they both were pups. What he didn’t remember, was the slight limp.
“Heard you were back. Glad you made it."
“Are you?” Drew scanned him as thoroughly as a TSA officer profling a suspect on the No Fly list. “Heard you challenged Magnum.”
Brick shrugged, extending his hands, palm up. He didn’t belong to pack anymore and he’d be damned if he’d show more submission than that. But his resentment toward the new alpha ebbed away.
“Someone needs to take charge. By rights that should be you.”
“Glad you see it that way.” Another tall, lean wolf, with long black hair and intimidating eyes emerged from the shadows to plant himself at Drew’s side.
“Ryker.” Brick acknowledged the pack enforcer briefly. He doubted he’d ever warm to the guy. That long ago day in The Den, Ryker had stood by and done nothing. True, he hadn’t piled on when Magnum and his thugs had beaten him into the sawdust. But he hadn’t stopped the massacre, either. “Especially with the cats threatening.”
Drew exchanged looks with Gee and Ryker, as if they’d all been expecting the news. “How’d you hear that?”
“We just came from Shady Heart.”
“My uncle Cal’s place.”
“The fuck were you doing there?” Ryker demanded.
“None of your fuckin’ business.”
“It is if the cats sent you here. If you’re some kind of spy or traitor to your pack.”
“The pack that kicked me out and banished me, after beating me bloody, you mean?”
“So you’re back with an ax to grind?”