Chapter 92

Dominic

We drove out to the scene of the attack: No Man’s Land.

The tavern still looked just the way it did when I first stepped foot in the place, almost a decade ago. It was a rite of passage for young wolves to visit at their coming-of-age. Though as Alpha, the expectations for my good behavior were set higher than my peers.

I stayed sober and in control, and vowed to never return. Back then, we didn’t look as kindly on the idea of mixing between Packs socially. Only arranged marriages or tragedy brought outsiders into the fold.

Mira took in this information like a sponge, asking a few qualifying questions as we drove. She had never even heard of it, let alone gone in for a night of seedy drinking.

“I also never really ‘came-of-age,’ so to speak,” she added. Even since regaining her wolf, she still had moments of longing for the years she had lived without it.

The scent of the taproom hit me first: stale beer, salty snack food, and something sour that was a mix between body odor and urine. But somehow the combination was sickening, but almost welcoming.

It told you there was no judgment here. Anyone could drift in and out, no one asked you for information you didn’t want to share freely. It was an unwritten rule that no matter how devilish you were outside, within these walls everyone was an ally. It was a safe haven for misfits and vigilantes alike, and it had been violated.

There was another scent wafting in the bar this time: blood.

Broken glass crunched under my feet as I walked in the door, and all eyes in the room turned to see the party that had entered. Splintered wood gave away the destruction of chairs, and several overhead lights were smashed or hanging

The woman by the bar looked tired and sad but still held her shoulders back with pride when she stepped towards us.

“Well, well, good news travels fast,” she said to me, a half smile on her lips. “What business do you have with us, Dominic Grey.”

I raised one eyebrow.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” she said in response to my face. “People come in here from all over, and they bring me the news— and gossip— about all the surrounding Packs. I bet I know more about your life than you do.”

Her eyes went to Mira, who was immediately uncomfortable with such attention.

“We’re just here to help,” Mira said, cracking under the steely gaze, “if we can. And to ask you about what happened. We’ve been…tracking the Rogue movements for a while.”

“What a fun hobby,” the bartender said sarcastically. “I don’t give out information for free. Pick up a broom.”

I nodded, walking to the bar to do as she suggested. She followed me with her eyes, as if she wondered if I knew how a broom worked. Satisfied in my abilities, she went back to her own work behind the bar.

Wyatt and Lucas split up to make themselves useful. Mira moved toward a group wiping down the walls on the far side of the room.

I watched as she introduced herself, hand to her heart then reaching forward to shake hands where she could. I couldn’t hear her speaking, but knew from her facial expression the soft and soothing tone of her voice. It was the voice she used when speaking to patients, comforting without being condescending.

From the body language of the three people she spoke to, it was working. Mira could connect with nearly anyone, and never came off as disingenuous or fake. I think I fell in love with her again at that moment, and felt like an idiot for ever doubting our relationship.

“I love you.”

She stood straighter and turned quickly to look at me. We hadn’t been communicating telepathically for what felt like days, and she seemed startled by my admission. Her eyes told me she was still confused and upset. But the tiniest smile and tilt of her head reminded me that she was still mine.

We went about our work, and after an hour the place was looking better. The sun was up and shining through the front stained glass windows. The panes were cleaner now than they had been in years, and brought in fresh energy to this disheveled place.

“Thank you,” the bartender said as she passed around coffee and donuts. She was gracious host, and even trusted us enough to tell us her name was Beatrice. “In all the years I’ve worked her, never have I seen an Alpha treat the rest of us like equals.”

I tried not to let that sting. “I suppose I’ll take the compliment,” I said wryly, “but I’ll have you know, I’d like to change that. For too long we’ve all been divided, isolated from one another, leaving ourselves and our Packs vulnerable.”

“No shit,” Beatrice replied. “Why do you think this place exists? The gods have protected this land for all of us, make no mistake. No Man’s Land is sacred, not just some mistake on a map.”

“And we want to look out for you,” I told her. “We aren’t expecting everyone to become one big cozy family, but we can respect each other’s right to safety and prosperity.”

“Well, if it pans out the way you say it will,” she said with a shrug, “you let me know how I can help the cause.”

“You can,” Mira said, “if you tell us more about those who attacked you last night.”

Beatrice let out a heavy sigh. She contemplated something, then picked up a bottle of whiskey from a bottom cabinet behind the bar. It was probably one of a small few that wasn’t smashed or stolen. She poured some into her coffee cup, looking up with a face that dared anyone to question her.

“It was just after midnight,” she began, taking a large gulp of her drink. “There were seven of them, and immediately I knew they would be trouble. They seemed to suck up a lot of air just by walking in the place.”

She looked around, reliving it in her mind.

“They split up, a few going to tables and a few taking seats at the bar,” she continued. “They were pushing people out of their seats, harassing my regulars. It wasn’t long before I heard the snap of wood as someone broke a billiards cue over their knee.”

I kept my face even as I listened, but my hands were curled into fists where they rested on the bar.

“I sent my bouncer, Bruce, over to talk with them,” Beatrice winced as she continued, “and in one quick movement the man swung the broken staff and sliced Bruce in the arm. Luckily it was a superficial wound, but the chaos broke out from there. People shouting at the intruders, glasses knocked off tables. One of them picked up a billiards ball and threw it at the wall behind the bar.”

We all looked at the shards of glass that were used to be a mirror.

“That mirror was over one hundred years old,” Beatrice said, eliciting head-shaking from those around her. “The best we could do was stand pack once the destruction began, and I got a lot of people into the bathroom where they could lock the door.”

“Was anyone else hurt?” Mira asked, switching into healing mode. “I’m a doctor, if anyone needs care—“

“We’re okay, thank you,” Beatrice said, holding up a hand. “They weren't here to kill anyone, though they didn't seem fazed if someone got in the way of their mayhem.”

“Do you remember what any of them looked like?” I asked, hoping for details that would help us.

“Most of them were big, like, too big,” Beatrice said with wide eyes. “I didn’t think steroids were still popular, but these guys were juiced up on something.”

Mira and I exchanged a knowing look, but said nothing.

“There was a smaller guy, with glasses, who just watched it all happen,” Beatrice continued. “He was very quiet and kinda creepy. He sat at the bar with a soda water, next to a a guy who seemed our of place. He wasn’t more than a kid really, maybe his son or something.”

I felt Mira’s heart beat faster, along with mine.

“Did you catch anyone’s name, or where they were going?”

“I was too focused on keeping my head on my shoulders to ask about their road trip,” Beatrice responded snidely. I held up my hands to show I deserve that reaction. “But when they left, yeah, one of them called out to the kid. He was almost hiding at the end of the bar, like he wanted to be left behind.”

“What did they call him?” Mira asked, fear in her voice.

“They called him Julian.”