Ruffskin (2 page)

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Authors: Megan Derr

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BOOK: Ruffskin
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Refilling Peyton's beer, Johnnie left him alone for a bit and headed upstairs, Grim on his heels.  Once upstairs he closed the doors and turned to Grim. "How does anyone hide from
you?
"

Grim snorted. "Even death can only do so much. Hiding from us can be done, and you probably know with what. Hell, it doesn't even always require charms. Why do you think we have to cross so many planes to find the lost souls we seek?"

Johnnie nodded. "So far as charms go, that's high sorcery, and it would require demon blood as a major component. Father had one once. He sold it centuries ago, and then bought the land where we later built the beach house, a couple of properties downtown, and used what was left to redo the lower west wing."

Rolling his eyes, Grim said, "Anyway. The charm camouflages his unique energies. If I get another shot at him, I may be able to see past the camouflage now that I'm aware of what he's doing and am braced for it."

"How often do people hide from you?" Johnnie asked out of curiosity.

"It's pretty damn rare," Grim said. "Which is why your father got an eye-rolling amount of money for his charm. My mother can actually remember all the times it's happened to her, which should tell you something. This is my first time running across it. Usually it's just an irritating game of hide and seek with breadcrumbs.

"The guy must be scared to death, I can tell you that much," Grim continued. "Those things are stifling, according to my mother. It's like slowly suffocating, but with your aura or energies or whatever you want to call it."

"So we need to know what he's running from," Johnnie replied. He pulled out his phone and punched the first speed dial.

"John," Ontoniel greeted on the first ring.

"Father," Johnnie replied. "Have you heard anything regarding Pack Blue, lately?"

"You mean other than the usual," Ontoniel said, not phrasing it as a question. "There was something a few months ago, actually. I'm surprised you don't know."

Johnnie shrugged. "I stay out of Blue in deference to Peyton, and if I made an effort to keep myself apprised of wolf gossip, I would have little time for anything else."

Ontoniel chuckled briefly. "Indeed. But as regards Pack Blue, I did hear that a few months ago their Alpha Female was nearly killed. No one knows who attempted to murder her; there was no clear evidence. To the best of my knowledge, they are still hunting her attacker, and she is still in a coma. Why?"

The Alpha Female, hmm. "I believe her son visited my bar very briefly this afternoon and left a personalized Rolex for Peyton.  He's wearing a charm that keeps anyone from finding him, even Grim."

Sighing, Ontoniel said, "I thought we had gone too long without you risking your fool neck. Tell Grim to take special care; I don't trust wolves."

"No," Johnnie retorted. "Thank you for the information, father."

"You're welcome, John," Ontoniel replied, and they hung up.

Johnnie looked at Grim. "The Alpha Female was nearly killed three months ago; her murderer failed, but only barely. She's in a coma."

"Matricide?" Grim asked, following Johnnie's line of thought. "So what did your father say?"

"Nothing," Johnnie said, sliding his phone back in the pocket of his deep umber vest. He moved to the mirror to adjust his tie.

"Liar," Grim said in his husky, hot-toddy voice and nibbled at the soft skin of Johnnie's neck, arms warm where they slid around him. His teeth and tongue teased Johnnie's ear, making him shiver.

Johnnie twisted and let Grim press him against the wall. "I do not recall saying that you were no longer in trouble."

"You did," Grim assured him, "and your father knows I will take extra care saving you from yourself."

"Shut up," Johnnie replied and kissed him to prevent a reply.

The sound of shouting, shattering glass, and screams of pain, made them both freeze. Growling, Grim snarled, "Stay here," and bolted off.

Johnnie followed him. Downstairs, the bar was a wreck:  glasses, bottles, and even a couple of barstools and one table were broken to little more than shards and splinters. Peyton and another wolf were fighting with the sort of ruthlessness that only wolves could muster, intent upon destroying one another and not caring if they brought down the bar in the process.

He had never seen Peyton as a wolf before. Peyton was handsome, as wolves went.  His fur was gray and black, and even in the middle of the fight Johnnie could still occasionally see the bright, rich hue of the trademark Blue eyes.

Peyton was also large, even for a werewolf—significantly larger than the wolf who was trying to kill him, and also a better fighter, though that was a near thing.

The other wolf finally collapsed and did not get up again. Peyton shifted back and collapsed himself, slumping against the bar and leaving a long smear of blood across it. He looked at Johnnie, and then passed out before he could form the words he was obviously trying to say.

Swearing, Johnnie pulled out his phone.

"John?"

"Father, a wolf just nearly killed Peyton.  Blue is bringing their feuding into our territory and hurting our people."

Ontoniel hung up without another word; no doubt he would immediately turn around and contact Blue to let them know they had officially pissed off a Dracula.

Johnnie punched the next speed dial. It rang three times before finally picking up. He didn't give Rostiya a chance to speak, simply said, "Get over to the Bremen, now."

"On my way," Rostiya replied and hung up.

Last, Johnnie called Micah. "Get whoever you can and get to the Bremen immediately. Someone just tried to kill Peyton." Micah, like Ontoniel, hung up without a word.

"If you are finished calling the cavalry," Grim said, "I could use some help."

Johnnie snorted, even as he obliged. "You do not need my help with him. I would only hinder, I should think." He knelt before Peyton, grimacing at the horrible state he was in. "At least his wounds do not seem too severe, even if he will not be doing much around the bar for a bit. I guess they are hunting for one wolf, but not opposed to bonus kills."

"I can tend the wounds," Rostiya said from where he and his vampire lover Jesse had just appeared behind them, and he knelt in Johnnie's place as Johnnie stood up.

Leaving him to it, Johnnie started to inspect the damage around the bar more closely. He stopped short when he saw that Jesse was kneeling beside the other wolf. Moving across the bar, carefully avoiding puddles of blood, Johnnie joined him.

"Dead," Jesse commented, and he dipped his fingers in a pool of blood and licked it idly. "Hmm, Alpha blood. Peyton just killed either an Alpha or a Candidate."

"Hardly the first time," Johnnie replied. "Anyway, it was in self-defense."

Jesse shrugged. "I am not going to lose sleep because a wolf is dead. He is lucky he is dead, really. If he were alive, he would be dealing with your lover and your father."

"I can take care of myself," Johnnie snapped. "Anyway, he was not attacking me. He was after Peyton, in case you missed that."

"No, I caught that," Jesse said, amused. "But when wolves are like this, they'll kill whatever falls into their path, up to and including the reckless sons of Draculas." He motioned to the dead wolf. "Know who he is? Other than Blue, obviously."

Johnnie shook his head. "My father—" He broke off as Ontoniel appeared by the door.

"What is going on here?" Ontoniel asked sharply.

Johnnie sighed and stood up. "Grim and I went upstairs to speak in private. I called you. A few minutes after I hung up, we heard a ruckus down here and found them trying to kill each other."

Ontoniel looked at the mess, eyes dark, mouth tight with anger. When he looked at Johnnie, however, he said only, "We need to find the source of this commotion; you and Grim are best suited to that task. Do it. I will tend matters here. Be careful, John."

"Yes, father," Johnnie replied and shrugged into the jacket that Grim held out for him, one step ahead as Grim so often was. Accepting his cane and fedora from Grim, he led the way out into the rain.

"If we are going to be stuck under an umbrella together all day, it seems to me I should be doing something a lot more interesting than hunting for wolves."

Johnnie pressed a kiss to his jaw, breathing in faint traces of myrrh and musk rose and a hint of the fruit candies Grim occasionally ate. "I'll let you make it up to me later."

"Brat," Grim replied and stole another kiss.

"So how shall we begin?" Johnnie mused aloud. After a moment, he quoted, "Where does a wise man hide a pebble?"

Grim's mouth curved in a slow smile, and he tugged down the brim of his cap as he quoted in reply, "On the beach."

"Where does a wise man hide a leaf?"

"In the forest," Grim answered. "So what beach or forest are we looking for?"

"The same one Peyton went to when he came here," Johnnie replied.

"You think Hudson came here and tried to settle in all legally?" Grim asked. "He may as well have called up his pack and said 'come and get me'."

"Until today it worked for Peyton," Johnnie said and quoted, "He never once thought it probable, or possible, that the minister had deposited the letter immediately beneath the nose of the whole world, by way of best preventing any portion of that world from perceiving it."

Grim grunted. "No one ever tries that trick with me."

"No," Johnnie said tartly, "but you certainly feel free to employ it yourself."

Grim winced. "Good point. So our runaway wolf registered here and clearly received permission to stay. But did he use his real name?"

"That I doubt," Johnnie said. "If he had, Peyton would have noticed, and I think he was avoiding Peyton at least as much as his pack. Of course, this is all supposition for the moment."

"As if you're ever wrong," Grim said and smiled at him. "Very clever, Highness. I was simply going to see if I could follow any residual energies I might pick up from the watch he left and hope they led me to a larger trail."

Johnnie savored the bright smile, so freely offered, because not so long ago Grim had not been much for smiles like that—not with him. "Not a bad idea, either," he said. "We could split—"

"Don't even think about it, Highness," Grim said. "I'm not stupid enough to leave you unsupervised, even if I thought your father wouldn't slay me for it. You attract life threatening situations like flowers attract bees."

Johnnie smirked. "You mean I attract death?"

Grim lifted his eyes to the sky and pointedly ignored him, instead fussing with the Rolex on his wrist, no doubt put there for safekeeping and easy access while he tried to follow whatever it offered. He was obviously unused to the weight and feel of it and probably uncomfortable just with the idea of such an expensive watch in general. 

The kind thing would be to leave him alone about it. Johnnie harassed him. "I hope you're not expecting one of those for your birthday."

"What?" Grim asked, taken aback. "No—of course not, Johnnie!"

Frowning, Johnnie leaned up and kissed him. "I was teasing you, idiot shepherd."

Grim scowled. "There's nothing wrong with being a shepherd."

"I certainly approve," Johnnie replied. "But, if you want a Rolex—"

"I don't," Grim said hastily, firmly. "I hate fancy crap."

Johnnie bit back a smile and decided he would have to buy Grim a piece of 'fancy crap' for Christmas. Or maybe Halloween, that seemed rather more apropos. But all he said aloud was, "Good, because I bought your birthday present last week and returning it to buy a silly watch would have seemed extremely gauche."

Grim's eyes snapped to him, flaring ever so briefly with white light. "You got me a present? What is it?" he demanded, looking surprised and delighted and so boyish Johnnie couldn't remember how to speak for a moment.

When he could remember, he turned and strode off down the street, taking the umbrella with him. Looking over his shoulder, he quoted loftily, "Patience, and the mulberry leaf becomes a silk gown."

"I am a kind of burr. I shall stick," Grim quoted in retort, and then caught up with him.

"Now who is quoting Shakespeare?" Johnnie muttered. "Take us to the offices of admittance."

"Yes, Highness," Grim replied, but the tone of his voice said that the matter of the present was not over yet, only postponed. He held Johnnie close, and then they vanished.

They reappeared in front of a rather plain looking office building on the west edge of the city not far from the shoreline, though it was too rocky there for good beaches.

Grim slowly let him go and tugged at the brim of his cap. "So what now?"

"Ask if they've seen him," Johnnie said.  "I think his delivery job was authentic. Slender—too slender for a wolf, really. Short hair, I could see none of it beneath that cap. Shy, nervous." He made a face. "If I go in there and ask, they will tell me everything they think I want to hear."

Nodding in agreement, Grim said, "Do not move so much as a finger while I'm gone, Johnnie. I'm serious. If you move one toe out of place, I will tie you to the bed—and you won't enjoy it," he added when Johnnie started to smirk.

"I managed just fine by myself before I was saddled with a babysitter," Johnnie said, annoyed. "I think you've gotten worse since openly sleeping with me."

Grim only smirked. "Hold still." He shook Johnnie briefly in warning and went inside the building. Johnnie leaned against the wall and rolled his eyes, and then settled on glaring at the rain and going over what little information they had.

Though ordinarily he was thrilled by a mystery, this one had nearly gotten Peyton killed. Peyton, who had already suffered enough and just wanted to be left alone to enjoy his bar and quiet life. Peyton obviously still carried a torch for the alpha's son he had left behind—a man who had bought Peyton an eight thousand dollar watch. Who was trying to reach Peyton, and who was probably the reason Peyton had nearly died, and had murdered another high ranking wolf.

Johnnie's scowl deepened while his mind raced. Time, he felt, was slipping away, and they could not afford to lose much more of it. Where could Hudson be? Why go to all the trouble to give Peyton an old present only to bolt?

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