Chapter Three
Caleb polished the dark wood of the bar and surveyed the empty room. Plenty of tables. Plenty of chairs. No customers at that moment, despite the nice and clear June night. He didn’t even need much in the way of AC.
When they’d first moved to the Valley of the Sun, he’d not thought it was that different than LA. But now that the summer had hit, he knew he was in a true desert. Triple digits during the day, but more pleasant seventies during the night. It’d take a little while to get used to, and he was sure the next couple of months would suck more, but he didn’t regret the move.
Greg had stopped by a few more times, but otherwise they’d not had much contact with other shifters, let alone the True Sons. That was good for business. He wanted human customers, not shifters, dragons, or otherwise.
A steady but small stream of customers had shown up since the place had opened. The fact that they served food did let them pick up some people on lunch.
He wasn’t worried. They always had more people at night. Everything so far was going great. It’d taken them only two months to get the new Devil’s Den ready, and business had been solid, if not heavy in their first week of operation.
Sure, he’d been expecting a rougher crowd, but money was money. Caleb had no complaints.
“We need a few hot waitresses,” mumbled Thomas from the other end of the bar. “What’s the point of a bar without hot waitresses?”
Caleb glanced down at the other man. The huge, brown-haired bearded man was one of the few in the pack larger than Caleb, and the oldest in his late thirties.
Thomas was a great fighter, but he thought with his fists, not his head. He’d actually been forced out of his old pack after a failed challenge against their alpha, but he’d never shown Caleb anything but loyalty in the year he’d been with him.
“No waitresses until we’ve more firmly established ourselves,” Caleb said. “We don’t know what’s going to happen, and we can’t just trust any random humans.”
Just as he finished speaking, a gaggle of college students burst through the door. He knew that because he recognized most of them from the previous weekend. They all went to a local community college.
A fresh-faced blonde in a sun dress waved to Caleb. He didn’t recognize her.
“I’m twenty-one tonight,” she yelled, “and I want to get shit-faced.” The men and women around her all cheered. From what he could tell, she was already a little drunk.
Caleb and Thomas exchanged smirks.
“Take a seat,” Caleb said, “and we’ll start bringing your beer. You want to get shit-faced on your twenty-first in my bar, then you should drink beer, not girly shit drinks.”
The blonde giggled, and again her crowd cheered, and they sat down around a few tables. The girl was cute enough, but she just wasn’t his type.
Caleb and Thomas filled pitchers of beer and delivered them to the table, along with frosted mugs. They headed back to the bar and watched as the college students started pounding down drinks.
“You think I have a chance with any of them?” Thomas asked as they stepped back behind the bar.
“Seems like same number of men and women,” Caleb said.
“I could kick any of those scrawny runt’s asses,” Thomas said with a sneer.
Caleb snorted. “Try not to beat up any of our customers. Unless they really have it coming.” He nodded over at a dart board on one side of the room and then the two pool tables on the other side. “Maybe chat ‘em up and challenge them to darts or pool later.”
An enticing scent floated into his nose, like flowers, fruit, and sweetness. Great smelling. “No fucking way.”
He and Thomas both let out quiet growls at the same time.
Caleb’s attention shot to the door. Another woman entered. She had long black hair and blue eyes. She’d gone aggressive with her make-up. Her bright red lipstick contrasted with her pale skin. Tight leather pants hug her legs and ass lovingly, and she wore calf-length black boots, and a black mesh top over a tube top that did more than enough to show off her glorious cleavage.
He suddenly found his pants far too tight.
“She’s mine,” Caleb said, and let out a low growl.
Thomas grunted and grabbed another couple pitchers of beer to take to the table.
Besides being a sexy little thing, the new woman’s scent was clear as day. She was Blooded, a person who carried werewolf genes. Considering female werewolves were never born, the only way to breed a new werewolf was to mate with a Blooded.
One of the reasons he pulled the pack out of LA was struggles over known Blooded. Everyone wanted something that was in short supply, and he didn’t think it was good for his newer pack.
Many cities had known lineages, protected by their related shifters. There were few packs in Maricopa County, and it was a fast-growing area, so it meant there was a greater chance of finding stray wolf Blooded.
He growled, pushing some memories away from his time in LA. He’d made some hard choices, maybe choices that would haunt him later, but he’d sworn he wouldn’t live his life obsessed with mating.
At that moment, Caleb didn’t give a shit about mating or kids, but her scent woke his cock, and he wanted to plant himself inside her. He took a deep breath. Given the way his body was reacting, she must have been fairly pureblooded.
Despite the fact she looked more like the kind of woman he wanted to see in his place than Buffy the drinker over at the table, the new arrival shifted and rubbed her hands together, obviously nervous.
The woman looked around a bit, shifting the strap of her purse over her shoulder before making her way toward the bar. She sat her little perky ass down on a stool.
He almost growled again at the way the black leather curved around her perfect ass.
“A Dos Equis, please,” she said, her voice soft.
The woman’s voice surprised Caleb. He’d expected something rough and husky, not so soft and innocent.
Thomas approached the bar and glared at Caleb before reaching over to grab a broom and head toward a hallway leading to the bathroom. Whether it was out of jealousy or because he didn’t want to cockblock his alpha, the end result was the same.
Once the bottle of beer was in front of the woman and opened, Caleb said, “Haven’t seen you around here before.”
“I’m Sarah,” she said with a smile. “I live in Tempe, actually. I don’t get out to the West Valley all that often.”
“Nice to meet you, Sarah.” He offered her a wide smile. “I’m Caleb. I own the place.”
Sarah sipped her beer, and he couldn’t help but wonder what it’d be like to have those lips around something else.
“It’s a nice place,” she said. She glanced over her shoulder. “A bit different than I expected.”
Caleb leaned over the bar. “Oh?” he said, his voice low.
Her breath caught, and her pupils dilated. “I… heard this place was more a biker hangout. I guess I was expecting it to be rougher.” Her pale cheeks turned scarlet. “I… uh… sorry.”
He shrugged. “That’s what I was going for, but money is money. Though we get that sort, too.” He stared at her for a moment. “You don’t strike me as the kind of girl who goes to biker bars.”
“I… well… why do you say that?” She glanced down at her clothes. “Something about my outfit?” Uncertainty colored her voice.
Caleb smirked. So she was trying too hard to look the part, after all. “Call it a hunch.”
“Are you a biker?”
“Me?”
Sarah licked her lips. “You do seem like, I don’t know, you have this air around you.”
He didn’t care if she was just some tourist looking for a little fun with a wolf, a hot, little Blooded like Sarah wasn’t someone he was going to let walk out the door.
Caleb gave her a lopsided grin. “I know some guys. Sometimes we can get rowdy. We don’t cause trouble for anyone who doesn’t have it coming. We just don’t ride.”
“I’d really like to hear more about that,” Sarah said. This time her voice was husky, but there was something obviously forced about it.
Not that he cared. She didn’t need to do more than moan and pant for what he had in mind.
“I’d like that—”
The door slammed open, and three huge men in leather jackets covered in patches stomped in, glaring. Caleb’s head snapped in their direction.
Shit. Talk about crappy timing.
The gathered college students all murmured to each other as they watched the new arrivals.
An earthy smell assaulted Caleb’s nose. No doubt about it. The new guys were werewolves, and they weren’t from his pack.
One turned, revealing that on the back of the jackets were two crossed axes over a skull and fancy lettering. It was hard to read at a distance, but he still could make it out: True Sons.
Thomas rushed toward the bar. A back door opened, and Malcolm stepped out as well. Caleb nodded to Malcom, and he disappeared back through the door. A few seconds later, he re-emerged with a younger blond man: Jace, another member of their pack and their primary cook.
Four on three. Good odds if something happened.
The tallest of the three new arrivals, a dark haired, dark-eyed man with olive skin glowered at Caleb.
The man inhaled deeply and pointed at Sarah. “Something smells nice in here. Very nice.”
Sarah started trembling.
Caleb let out a low growl at the sight. “What do you want? And who the hell are you?”
“Jake Silvestri. You know who I am? I know who you are, Caleb Drake.”
“I know who you are. You lead the True Sons.”
Sarah let out a little yelp of surprise. She rubbed her hands over each other while she trembled.
“Yeah, I do,” Jake said. “And you didn’t ask our permission before building this shithole.”
“Fuck you,” Thomas yelled, taking a step forward.
Caleb held up a hand, and Thomas backed off.
“I don’t need your permission,” Caleb said. “I talked to who I needed to talk to. I don’t ask for permission from the likes of you.”
“This is True Sons territory,” Jake said, scratching his chin. “And you’re being mighty disrespectful, but maybe we’ll let you off without trouble if you, uh, help us with our charity.”
“What charity is that?”
“The True Sons Fist Relief Fund.” Jake gave him a wicked grin. “You see when we punch people, it makes our fists hurt. So it helps if people pay us, so we don’t have to do that.”
Caleb snorted. He suspected Jake was used to screwing with normal human business owners, and it’d been a while since he actually rumbled with other werewolves.
“We don’t want any trouble,” Caleb said, keeping the anger out of his voice. Every part of him wanted to slam a fist into Jake’s face, but there were too many humans around to get rough.
“Good,” Jake said.