Wicked Bite (Realm Enforcers #5)(88)
He widened his stance, pulling her between his legs. "Closer."
She settled in and lifted her face. "Yes?"
His lips brushed hers, and then he kissed her. He tasted of mint and male, taking her under, shooting desire through her blood. Finally, he lifted his head, his gaze soft. "Promise you'll stay safe tonight."
"I promise," she whispered, cupping his whiskered jaw. "You make the same promise. Don't get shot."
He grinned. "I promise. When I get back, I want a decision about us." With another hard kiss to her mouth, he set her aside and turned to stride out into the night.
* * *
Beneath his jacket, Bear tugged his bulletproof vest down to ease the pressure on his chest. The thing barely fit him, and it had been specially made for shifters. They'd parked the trucks several blocks away from the bar, running through alleys and deserted streets after that. Most buildings in the area were boarded up, but a few small businesses still existed. They were all closed for the night, complete with strong security bars over doors and windows.
Clouds flitted above, letting the moon shine through on debris and broken glass littering the asphalt.
He kept to the shadows with Nick and Garrett on his flanks. Lucas and Logan covered the other side of the street.
A bum stumbled out of an alley and fell on a garbage can, which toppled over, spilling out papers and fast-food containers. Bear led the way around him. They'd save people tomorrow. Tonight was for fighting-and gathering information. "I need at least one of them alive," he said through his comm unit.
A series of affirmatives came in loud and clear.
They finally reached Slam Bar, on the corner of hell and this place sucks. A metal sign hung haphazardly from a couple of stripped wires, blowing in the wind. Raucous laughter came from inside, and somewhere a woman screamed. Sirens wailed from a distance, their shrill cries echoing through empty streets, making it impossible to discern their location.
Bear used hand signals to send Lucas and Logan around back. They both slipped silently into the night.
"Stay alert," he said quietly, pushing open the heavy metal door.
Heat and noise hit him first, followed by the stench of old beer and piss. An enormous bald bartender shoved glasses of whiskey across a scarred wooden bar, his arm muscles bigger than a tire. Bottles lined the shelves behind him, and matted red velvet covered the walls. Dirty velvet.
Barstools and high round tables were scattered throughout the space, with a couple of lower tables toward the back near several dartboards and pool tables. The stools were ripped, and cotton wadding stuck out.
About ten people were inside, heads down, drinking heavily. Smoke hung in the air, choking it. Five additional men sat around a table in the back.
Bear recognized one guy from the pictures Logan had downloaded of the wolf gang. Good ole Frank J. "It's a go," Bear said into his comm unit, striding toward the back of the room. The men there, wolves really, watched him approach, their gazes alert but their postures relaxed. The closer he got, the more he could smell the stench of wolf.
Frank sat in the middle and had dark eyes, light hair, and a scar down his face. His nose was crooked and his clothes dirty. "What the fuck do you want?" His buddies watched carefully, going on alert.
"You know who I am?" Bear asked, setting his stance.
"Yeah," Frank said, downing a glass of whiskey. "You're a friend of Goldilocks."
His buddies chuckled and snorted.
"What an idiot," Bear muttered to Nick.
"Yep. It's always the idiot," Nick said, letting his fangs slide free. "But they talk fast enough when they're holding their intestines with both hands and trying to keep them from sliding to the floor."
Two of the wolves pushed back from the table, their chairs scraping the filthy floor, and stood.
"We don't want a fight," Bear said, catching himself. "All right. We would like a fight. But we won't hurt anybody if you just tell us who hired you to attack Grizzly territory. Just a name."
"Fuck you," Frank said.
Bear smiled. "I was hoping you'd say something like that. Maybe not those exact words, but something that indicated I get to hit somebody tonight." Barely leaning over, he yanked the nearest wolf off his chair. A quick pivot, and he threw the man across the bar to hit the back door. The wolf bounced off and slammed to the ground. The door didn't move.
Solid doors. Interesting.
Frank stood and lifted a green gun, pointing it at Bear's head. "That wasn't very nice."
The wolf already had a gun in his hand? Nick stiffened next to Bear.
Bear slowly turned his head to see every patron in the bar concentrating on the three of them. Even the losers who'd seemed lost in their drinks were watching intently, not so drunk.