Read His Bacon Sundae Werewolf Online

Authors: Angelique Voisen

His Bacon Sundae Werewolf (5 page)

Yes. It would’ve
been a lovely domestic arrangement.

Jules could
imagine endless weekend afternoons or nights with Pat on his lap as they
watched TV, their take-out dinner and snacks scattered on the coffee table.
What would it be like, to finally have a permanent home and a caring mate who’d
take good care of him?

A mate that would
run alongside him when the moon called and who’d cuddle beside him at night? It
had been a long time since Jules felt this content. He’d always been constantly
on the move since Cole’s death.

That was the good
life…but was it for him? This wasn’t his or Pat’s living room they were sitting
in, but Derrick’s. The apartment smelled of the other dominant Beta and it
irked Jules that it smelled a little of Pat too. Although Derrick said Pat was
only a friend who occasionally came over…

“So.
You’re Pat’s mate, eh?” The comment came from a tall and lanky man
with shaggy brown hair.

He was dressed in jeans
and a ratty T-shirt that had seen too many washes. At his arrival, Pat growled
softly at his lap. The man shrugged and settled on the armchair beside the
sofa.

“Potential mate,”
Jules corrected. “Are all the wolves in the New Haven pack this nosy?”

“Says the nosy
stranger who’s crashing in our apartment,” he snorted.

“Our
apartment?”
Jules asked hopefully.

“Yeah.
Sorry, didn’t introduce myself earlier. I’m Jack, Derrick’s mate.”
Unexpected relief filled Jules at those words and he graciously took Jack’s
hand when he leaned over to offer a handshake.

“You don’t believe
how much those words mean to me,” Jules told him.

“I’m actually glad
to meet you. We’ve really been worried about Pat lately. Plus, Derrick has this
stupid urge to always want to take care of people. I was starting to get pissed
off by how much time he was spending with Pat,” Jack said pointedly, ignoring
Pat’s annoyed growl.

“Jealous, aren’t
you?” Derrick appeared from the bedroom. This time, he was thankfully dressed
in a faded pair of jeans and a plain black shirt.

He affectionately
ruffled Jack’s hair. The smaller man scowled at him, but Jules noticed it was
an affectionate scowl.

“Too bad I’ve just
baked a batch of fresh sugar-free brownies,” Jack said in a sullen voice. “I
think I’ll just give them to our neighbors, or feed them all to Pat.”

Pat sniffed indignantly on Jules’s lap, clearly insulted.

“Of course you won’t. Not when you’ve obviously slaved away in the
kitchen all morning just to surprise me.” Derrick ruffled his hair, ignoring
his thin growl.

“Some thanks I got. You never even returned with the groceries I
asked you to buy. Instead, you brought home these two scraggy dogs,” Jack
huffed.

It was slightly humorous watching the pair squabble like any
domestic couple, and they made Jules a little envious. He’d kill to have
something stable like that again, to come home knowing someone special was
waiting for him.

From the positive
energy jumping between their beasts, it was obvious that the two of them were
happy and content with each other. Jack stood so Derrick could sit. He perched
on the arm of the chair like a teenager, leaning against his mate. Derrick
didn’t seem to mind. He slid his hand to the back of Jack’s neck and squeezed
it affectionately. Jules just wondered if the armchair could take their
combined weight. Derrick looked like a giant sitting on a child’s seat.

“I’ve informed
Carlos about the murders,” Derrick said finally, meeting Jules’s eyes. “He’s
calling in a pack meeting, but he wants to talk to you after the meeting.”

“I’m guessing that
I’m not invited to that meeting?” Jules asked warily.

He’d heard of
Carlos Medina. He didn’t like some of the stories he’d heard about the New
Haven Alpha. From Derrick’s careful tone, he suspected that some of the stories
he heard were true. There was a reason why most of the werewolf packs around
the region steered clear of New Haven.

Carlos and his vicious
enforcers weren’t known for being tolerant. They didn’t like strange wolves and
newcomers on their land and were known for taking the law in their own hands.
Normally, Jules would’ve thought that whoever was killing shifters in New Haven
was foolish, but he knew this killer was different. This killer wasn’t just
run-of-the-mill stock and even the New Haven pack would have trouble with him.

What really
concerned him was how it all felt like a specially laid out trap for Pat. He
couldn’t imagine Pat being a threat to anyone, but then it was useless trying
to understand the warped logic of a killer who didn’t appear to have any
motives.

“No. He did tell
me that you’d better not skip town by the time we deal with this killer,”
Derrick said.

 

“Tell is such a
polite and civil word. Warn is what you really mean, don’t you?”

Jules felt Pat
grow still and quiet on his lap. He looked down to see a pair of pained amber
eyes looking up at him. Was Pat worried he’d just skip town? A part of him, the
lone wolf part of him, wouldn’t have hesitated to make a quick and hasty exit,
but things were different now. Not because he found Pat, but because he finally
found what he was looking for—the bastard that killed Cole.

There was no
mistaking the killer’s work. From the custom-made silver wolf traps to the
secret hideaway, the hidden killing place in the woods no one would’ve normally
thought to look at twice…and even the untraceable scent the killer carried. No
footprints and not even a whiff of soap or sweat left in the site. The killer
was careful. He’d been doing this for a long time. Too bad he didn’t know Jules
had been looking for him for a very long time as well.

Finally he said,
“I’m not going anywhere. Besides, I’m more concerned about Pat not being able
to shift back to human form. The killer, I’m sure you vicious New Haven wolves
can take care of.”

Jack snorted, but
Derrick ignored him. “Pat hasn’t been able to shift for the past three years. His
body is just adjusting again to the wolf. I’m not worried.
Yet.”

“Three years?
Three years isn’t
nothing
to a shifter. That does a
kind of lasting damage doesn’t it? ” Jules couldn’t hide his surprise. He
couldn’t imagine not being able to trade his human skin for the skin of his
wolf.

“Why? Did
something…traumatic happen to him?”

“Ask him yourself
when he shifts back.”

Derrick, Jules
thought, wasn’t going to give him an inch. Distinctively, he could hear Derrick
and Jack moving about the apartment. They argued loudly in the kitchen about
the brownies Jack mentioned. It was followed by uncomfortable sounds of sex and
various ingredients and kitchen utensils dropping. They emerged moments later,
half-naked and covered in flour, before trooping into their bedroom. More
sounds of arguing and sex followed.

Jules shifted uncomfortably
in his seat. Pat only yawned on his lap, clearly used to the couple’s ways. It
seemed like an eternity before they eventually announced they were leaving for
their pack meeting.

“Pat’s not coming
with you two?” Jules asked. “Wouldn’t the Alpha want to see his member alive
and furry?”

“Nah.
I think he’d rather stay with you. We can tell Carlos and Raina
ourselves,” Jack said unhelpfully.

He wasn’t all that
surprised that Derrick would leave him with an injured wolf, his injured mate,
to guarantee that he’d stay in town. Clearly, the man had trust issues.

“Take care of
Pat,” was all Derrick said in a firm and commanding tone of voice that expected
no arguments.

Jack stood by his
shoulder, smiling. Derrick then closed the front door behind him, not waiting
for Jules’s reply.

“Your pack
second’s a real piece of work,” Jules observed.

Pat’s amber eyes
were still watching him and a wave of guilt hit him. He may not have been
completely honest with Pat or Derrick, but he meant well. The image of Cole’s deathly
pale face surfaced to his mind suddenly, but Pat’s face replaced it.

The knots inside
his stomach tightened. No. He couldn’t let that happen. Wouldn’t ever let that
happen. He’d deal with the killer himself, whatever the cost. Besides, it
wasn’t his style to leave all the dirty work to someone else. This was his
kill.
His.

He knew Derrick
and the local pack meant well, but they were new to the game. Jules was an old
player. Once the killer was gone from the picture, he’d no longer be tied to
his past. Jules would’ve finally avenged Cole.

Only then he could
start thinking about his future, a possible future with Pat. He closed his eyes
for a moment and envisioned another apartment.
Pat’s and his
apartment.
He could see them sitting in a comfy two-seater with Pat
snuggled close to him as they watched TV and fought for the remote.

A lovely image, but I have to concentrate on what’s in front of me.
Jules shoved back the rising guilt that threatened to drown him and
focused on what he needed to do.

“Okay, Pat. It’s
time for a proper nap. Come on, you can roll around more comfortably in
Derrick’s and Jack’s bed. They said you could.”

Although neither
Derrick nor Jack told him this, Jules thought it wouldn’t hurt to annoy them a
bit. It was all in the name of good fun. A wolf’s nose was extremely sensitive
to smell and if Jack happened to smell Pat’s scent on the sheets he and Derrick
shared….

That would teach
the big red Beta to quit spending so much time with his Pat.

Speaking of
Pat…the wolf didn’t look the least bit interested in getting up from his lap.
Jules nudged at Pat, hoping he’d take the hint. The wolf on his lap refused to
bulge, so he tugged at it urgently this time. Pat only yawned, showing
impressive rows of teeth.
Show-off.

“Look, Pat. I’m
not going to lie to you. I can’t just sit here while I know the killer’s out
there,” Jules pleaded, combing his hand into his fur. “Please don’t make this
difficult for me. You’ve seen inside me. You know what I have to do.”

He tried to push
at the wolf, but all he managed was to grunt and sweat. If it ever came to a
duel, he would never want to fight Pat. Werewolves weighed the same in human
form and in wolf form, and whatever flab their human halves had was converted
to solid muscle in wolf form. Skinny werewolves were easy targets, which was
why most wolves chose to bulk up and work out.

Whatever tall
tales the media spun about them, it wasn’t easy being a werewolf. Unlike the
movies, they weren’t immune to things like diabetes, obesity or heart attacks.
Their bodies didn’t transform to buffed beefcakes either after they were
bitten. They had to work out and buff themselves like any human being.

Being a werewolf
only meant they were men who could happen to turn into wolves, but a more
experienced hunter could easily kill them like any other animal.

“Pat, come on,”
Jules warned, unable to help himself.

Frustration began
to beat at him. He couldn’t afford to waste a second. Once the killer
discovered that the local wolves were on his scent, he might just run. He
wasn’t stupid. The killer may be able to trap and kill one or two shifters a
time, but whatever flavor of supernatural nasty he was, no one in their right
mind would face a pack of angry werewolves head-on.

Pat turned his
head, giving him a look of disdain. It felt like minutes had passed and Jules
was becoming uncomfortable under that scrutinizing gaze. Eventually, Pat jumped
off the coach.

“Good boy.”

Jules grabbed his
coat and was immediately out the door. He was about to slam it shut but Pat
pressed his muzzle against the crack in the door, making a low sound in his
throat.

“You can’t come
with me, Pat. You’re injured and this is my mess. Just wait for me ok?”

Jules breathed a
sigh of relief when Pat withdrew his muzzle from the opening.
Finally, he’s showing some sense.
He did
jerk back when the door rattled and a three hundred pound werewolf pounced on
him. Pat knocked all of the breath out of his body and Jules’s back hit the
ground.

“Persistent
stubborn wolf!”
Jules let out a breath.

Amber eyes stared
down at him gravely. Jules huffed and lifted his bandaged paw.

“Let’s make a
deal, if you’re too injured to run, you’re not coming with me.”

Pat only shoved
his nose at him as Jules began to
unwrap
the bandages.
To his surprise, the wound was healing abnormally fast. Pat even placed his paw
into his chest as if to say, “I told you so.”

“That’s odd.
Normal wolves can’t heal that fast from silver. Only mated wolves can invoke
magic like this.” Jules froze as soon as he’d said those words, only
understanding the frightening implication of what they truly meant.

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