Our schedule had changed a lot since our loner days, working as a team, but not as a pack. Before, we all pretty much went our own way until Asher called us up with a job. Now, we woke up, went about our separate morning routines, and then met in the double-wide's living room, going over the priorities for both bounties and the pack. Bounty wise—we tried not to call it that in front of Asher, he was pretty stuck on being all proper about it. "Bail retrieval." Bounty wise, we took fewer jobs these days. None of us had rent, and a lot of our time was better spent investing in the pack. 

This last spring we'd planted a large garden, tended it through summer, harvested it in the fall. We'd built a second house, and that had gone to Ryan. He was bigger than even me, and the small dimensions of the double-wide had squeezed him, even though he'd never complained. But the bounty money was helpful, and sometimes we took on jobs just on principle, or ones we'd been chasing for a while. None of us liked feeling like we'd left a job undone.

Jesse had claimed nearly the entire week after Thanksgiving for decorating, but now it was time to get back to business. Simon was just sitting down with a bowl full of cereal when Asher and Ryan arrived. They didn't bother knocking—there was no need. Asher carried a giant thermos, but Ryan helped himself to the coffee. It always took him a while. He doctored it up with so much milk and sugar I wondered why he even bothered with the coffee part. I was pretty sure the instant flavored stuff would have suited him just fine.

As soon as we all settled into our seats, Asher began. "Okay, what's on the agenda today?"

Kurt tossed a packet onto the table. "Another lead popped up on our arsonist. The cops haven't connected his name yet, but I don't think it will take him long. A fire out in east Tennessee that has his trademark. I decided to give the whole file another look a couple weeks ago to see if I could figure out some predictors and I discovered something interesting." He leaned forward to open the file and flipped through a couple papers until he landed on the one he wanted. "I can't say with complete certainty, but I'm pretty sure our guy is targeting shifters. All families. All with children. All with at least one set of remains the investigators couldn't find."

"The children?" Asher asked sharply. Kurt nodded. Asher's tension filtered through our connection, not that I wasn't already on edge from Kurt's revelations. "I want to up the priority on this. Let's revisit all our previous leads. I want you to split up, cover ground fast. I don't want him to have enough warning to just keep running ahead of us if he is returning to any of his old haunts. Simon, you take the house up in Smith County. Ryan, head up with him and ask around town. Dallas, there was a bar he used to go to, right?"

"The Fox's Den, yeah." I hoped no one could sense my nervous anticipation. Well, no one other than Asher. He gave me a questioning look, but let it go when I shook my head. I wasn't sad about having an excuse to see Nick again. If he remembered me. I liked to think he would, but I didn't want to be disappointed. I guess I'd just find out.

* * *

The Fox's Den hadn't changed a bit in the three months. Maybe it looked a little dirty in the grimy gray of December, but that didn't affect its facade much. I waited until the sun had started to go down before I even left home. Nick was an evening bartender. It followed that my best bet if I hoped to see him would be at night.

The beast within me perked in interest, and I didn't pull him back as tightly as I normally would. I had never felt freer and more myself than that night with Nick. Maybe I was being overeager, hoping for a repeat.

The bar was a little busier than when I'd arrived the time before, but still calm. The stale cigarette and beer smell was the same. The bar gleamed the same. But the bartender was definitely not the same. 

"Can I help you?" The bartender was red headed, like Nick. Freckled, like Nick. Small and thin, like Nick. But it was definitely not Nick. For one, he was a beta. And he was nowhere near as enchanting as Nick. He was missing something, a spark, though there was a strong resemblance. Maybe a brother, or a cousin.

"Is Nick not working tonight?"

The bartender glanced to the kitchen and I followed his gaze, but saw nothing. "Ah, Nick doesn't work here anymore." 

The disappointment was like a brick wall. "Oh? He said this was a family business. He didn't seem like he was interested in moving on. Where's he working now?"

The bartender's eyes darted. "I really couldn't say." His eyes latched on something and he started scrubbing the bar furiously. I followed his gaze and this time I noticed an older man, definitely a relation, probably the uncle Nick had been talking about. That pulled some pieces together. Some kind of family rift, perhaps.

"That's fine," I said, pulling out the photo of Wamp that I'd stuck in my wallet after that morning. I didn't want to be caught without it, now that the case was taking more priority. "You seen this guy around at all?"

The bartender took a close look at the photo, but handed it back with a shrug. "No, sorry man."

I stuck the photo back in place. "Thanks anyway. Have a good night."

The air stung my face as I stepped out of the bar and let the door close behind me. Two months ago, Nick had lived right across the street. Did he still? He hadn't said anything about the apartment being tied to the job. Or the family. I should just get back in my car and head home, but my feet led me across the street, up the stairs, and I was knocking on Nick's door like I was in a trance.

There was a thump and crash, a scattering of noise, and then the sound of a bolt being moved and the door opened a few inches, catching against a chain lock.

"Yeah?" The person who answered the door was a young beta woman, clearly also a family member with her red hair and freckles.

"I was looking for Nick?"

"Who—hold on, I can't see." A light suddenly flooded the tiny little landing and I blinked against the sudden brightness. When I was able to focus on the woman, her mouth was hanging open, her eyes wide with shock.

"Oh shit," she said, and slammed the door in my face. More scatterings of noise and then silence. I knocked. Nothing. I knocked again, feeling like a dumb ass, but still, I had to try. Nothing. 

I turned down the stairs with a sigh, feeling the beast clawing at the edges of my control, my disappointment giving him fuel. I slipped, clutching the metal railing for support, and when I pulled my hand away, I realized I had left claw marks in it.

"Dallas?"

That voice struck a chord of recognition deep within my soul, thrumming in a vibration that froze my beast, captivating him. I turned to look up the stairs, and there was Nick. He was wearing an oversized sweatshirt and yoga pants. I needed to scent him. He was down wind of me, and up, and the cold trapped scents. The beast was clawing to get near Nick now, but I held my emotional leash tight as I prowled back up the steps. I paused at the first hint of his lemon scent, and the beast deep in me moaned in bliss. That is what I had been missing. I scented the beta on him, and another sweet scent... a familiar scent... I tried to place where I had run across it before.

My eyes widened in shock. I'd smelled it on Jesse all last fall, winter and spring. The beast roared in jealousy. Nick was pregnant.