Sighing, I ended the call and waved the bartender back over.
“Yes, sir?”
“Gin and tonic,” I said. “Whatever your best gin is. My friend is on the way.”
“Very good, sir.”
While the man made the drink, I glanced around, itching to get moving. Dicky’s Bar had a classy, speakeasy vibe. It was fairly busy, with lots of business folks coming in after work to let off a little steam. Everyone looked relaxed and chilled out, sipping drinks and chatting over the faint sound of jazz music.
I wasn’t one of them. I was itching to get moving. I hated sitting still, and Ollie knew that. Hell, he was probably late on purpose just to screw with me.
The only person who didn’t look chilled out was the douchebag who’d been hitting on the waitress. He was eyeing her angrily. Something about the look in his eyes made me wary. I’d need to keep an eye on him.
I took a sip of my whiskey and tapped my ring—a band of silver twisted into a Celtic knot—on my glass in irritation. Ollie and I could have done this over the phone, but that was dangerous. Pack business had to be conducted in person at all times. It lessened the chance of someone overhearing our business and the human world learning about shifters. None of our kind wanted to be the dumbass who caused that to happen.
The bartender handed me Ollie’s drink. I took it and my own, then moved to one of the high-back booths near the door. It would afford us the privacy we needed whenever Ollie finally graced me with his appearance. It also gave me a good vantage point for all the exits and possible lines of sight.
Before I could get fully settled, the asshole at the bar made another lewd comment, drawing my attention again.
“You know what you need?” he said to that server. “You need a man, that’s what I think. How about you let me take you home tonight? Show you arealgood time.”
“Sir, can you please just pay the tab?” she said. I didn’t miss the anxiety in her voice.
Sighing, I stood to get a better look at what was going on. The interaction was being noticed around the bar. Conversations were stopping, eyes turning in their direction. I sniffed the air, and my stomach dropped. Narrowing my eyes, I looked at the man more closely. He was a fucking shifter. The jerk was making an ass of himselfanddrawing attention.
He leaned forward and ran a hand up her thigh. “I’ll pay the tab when you say yes.”
She flinched back and left, striding to the bar.
The drunk sat back. “Fucking humans trying to tell me what to do. Fuck them.”
My nostrils flared. If it weren’t for my enhanced hearing, I wouldn’t have heard the words he’d muttered under his breath. That was too much. Too far. The friends beside him were human. They’d probably assume he was mumbling drunk gibberish, but in reality, his drunk ass was close to exposing us to the human world. This had to end. I needed this guy gone.
Before I took a step, the server returned and handed the man back his credit card. Instead of taking the card, he wrapped his hand around her wrist.
“You ever had a cock in your ass, baby? I’ll go real slow. Make it nice for you. I guarantee you’ll come. Let’s get the fuck out of here. If you’re good, I’ll let you suck me off after?—”
I stepped around the woman. “That’s enough.”
His eyes flashed with anger as he turned to address me. “And just who the fuck do you…” He trailed off, sensing that I was a shifter, too. Not only that, but I was superior to him in every way.He’d stepped in shit and knew it. He let go of the server, and she backed away behind me.
In most other situations, all it would take was the appearance of an angry, more powerful, and more muscular wolf to intimidate a lesser shifter. This guy had obviously had too much to drink. The alcohol inflated his ego and lowered his inhibitions. He didn’t want to lose face, and the fact that I was stronger in every way wasn’t enough to deter him. His shocked expression gave way to indignant rage.
“And just who the fuck do you think you are,big dog?” he bellowed.
The last two words were a dangerous clue as to our true nature. All eyes and ears were on us now. My gray eyes narrowed.
“I’m the guy who’s telling you to leave the lady alone,” I said, leaning close, getting into his personal space. “Do I need to show you why you need to leave?” I raised an eyebrow and let out a low growl, quiet enough that only he could hear it. My inner wolf itched for a fight with this prick. “Because I will,” I added, a cocky grin spread across my face.
The man snarled and lunged up from his seat, his left arm arching upward in an uppercut toward my chin. He was fast but drunk. I pivoted and caught his wrist, my palm making a meatysmackon his skin. In two quick moves, I twisted his arm behind his back and slammed him forward, bashing his cheek and temple onto the table. He let out a pained grunt.
“Nate, how many times have I told you to mind your manners in public?”
I turned, maintaining my grip on the man. Ollie stood behind me, his suit jacket pushed aside to reveal the detective’s badge clipped to his belt. His blond hair was swept back from his forehead, chiseled jaw cocked in a grin. Ollie’s smile faltered as he looked down at the man and realized he was a shifter.
“Sir,” Ollie said to him, “I believe that was assault I witnessed as I walked in. My name’s Detective Oliver Vickers, and I’m gonna need to have you taken in.”
Ollie pulled a pair of cuffs from his pocket and locked the guy’s hands behind his back.
