Kieran POV
Papa's voice rings loud in my head. 'Did you really think you were going to take down Wesley without back up?'
'I don't need backup,' I growl in return.
'You do,' Father's voice breaks in.
I roll my eyes as I turn into the bar's parking lot. 'I didn't realize this was a conference call.'
'Which bar are you at?' Father demands to know.
'The only rogue bar in town,' I laugh before cutting the mind link.
Stepping out of the car, I straighten my shirt. I look like I have been through hell and back, but I don't think anyone here will notice. Slamming the car door shut, I hear knocking in the trunk. I smirk to myself remembering that Tish is still in the trunk.
I knock back on the trunk and yell, "I will be back in a few."
"You can't leave me in here," Tish screams. "Please. I don't like small, dark spaces."
"Maybe you should have thought about that before you threatened my mate." I give the trunk a final knock with knuckles and head into the bar.
The bar looks as gross on the inside as it does on the outside. The bottoms of my shoes stick to the floor as I walk in. It is the middle of the day, and the place is full of vagrants, both humans and rogues. No one looks up at me when I walk in except the bartender.
He pulls a gun from behind the counter and slams it down on the bar. I cock my head to the side and smile. I continue to walk to the bar and sit down right in front of the sawed-off shotgun.
The bartender cocks the gun and angles it at my chest. "Just so we are clear."
"I see my reputation precedes me," I laugh. "Can I get a whisky neat?"
He looks at me strangely before reaching behind him and grabbing the cheapest whisky on the shelf. He pours it into the glass and sets it roughly down in front of me.
Whisky splashes out of the glass and onto the bar. I wipe it up with my sleeve and down the liquid in front of me. The bartender doesn't take his eyes off me, and he keeps the shotgun pointed in my direction.
"I know why you are here," he says roughly. "He is in the back."
"You are giving him up so easily," I chuckle as I spin in the barstool and rest my elbows against the bar.
"Like I said before, I don't want any trouble,' he growls at me.
"You never said you didn't want any trouble," I chuckle.
Now, everyone in the bar is paying attention to the interaction between the bartender and me. They are giving each other nervous looks and many get up to leave. The rogue werewolves rush toward the door, glancing over their shoulders to make sure I am not following them. The humans in the bar seem to be confused but can sense the tension in the air. They follow the rogues out of the bar. Soon, the bar is mostly empty.
There are only a few left in the bar. They are the types of rogues that aren't afraid of the Alpha of a pack. These rogues are willing to fight on the side of the recusants whether they agree with them or not. I have put myself in a dangerous situation. It isn't the first time, and it certainly won't be the last.
I turn back to the bartender and tap the rim of my glass. Reluctantly, he pours more liquor into it and tries to turn away, but I grab his hand before he can.
"You know she is dead," I say loud enough for everyone to hear.
"Who?" He asks as he rips his hand away from me.
"Francesca," I practically scream her name. "My mate killed her. On her first shift. It was magnificent to see."
A chorus of growls echos behind me and I smirk wildly. The bartender rolls his eyes and taps the trigger of the gun. "What did I tell you about trouble?"
The sound of chairs scooting across the floor catches my attention and I am keenly aware that they have gathered behind me.
"No shifting," the bartender growls as he points to a sign hanging on the wall.
I snort loudly as I look at the sign. It is wolf howling at the moon with the words 'no shifting' written in marker underneath.
I turn around and stare into the faces of the rogues gathered around me. I look from face to face and count them. Ten. I roll my shoulders awkwardly. Ten is a lot, but I have taken on more. I won't come out unscathed, though. I guess it is a good thing my mate is a nurse.
"Is there a problem, boys?" I taunt.
"What were you saying about Francesca?" One of them snarls.
"Dead," I say before tilting the glass to my lips.
The rogue reaches out and smacks the glass out of my hands. It flies across the bar and crashes onto the floor. I watch the glass as if I am uninterested before turning my attention back to the rogues. They are trying to be intimidating.
The bartender sighs heavily. "This is going to be a fucking mess to clean up."
He disappears into the back room and doesn't return. The rogues in front of me are beginning to shift. I point to the sign and chuckle. "No shifting," I remind them.
One of the rogues strolls over to the sign and rips it off the wall. He rips it in two and tosses it on the ground before him.
I crack my neck from side to side. "Here goes nothing."
The door to the bar opens and my father and Papa storm inside. Their teeth are bared and they are ready to fight.
"Hey," I raise my hand cheerfully. "Welcome to the party."
Father groans loudly and cracks his knuckles. He begins to shift into his wolf and Papa is not far behind him. As for me, I don't bother shifting. I have never liked fighting in my wolf form. I like to feel their bones break with my bare hands. Karr has never minded taking a back seat for a few moments.
I grab the rogue closest to me and slam his head into the bartop. His head bounces off the bar like a rubber ball, and he stumbles back into the crowd of rogues. My Father is tearing into the rogues as if they are made of butter and Papa is doing the same.
I hop off the barstool and growl loudly. The fighting doesn't stop, but someone returns my growl.
I look over my shoulder and see Wesley standing by the door to the back of the bar. "Looking for me?"