Wolfsong (Green Creek 1)

He rolled his eyes. “That’s what you’re going with? I’ve heard you’re not as stupid as you look, Oxnard. Don’t start now.”

“Who are you?”

“David King,” he said with a tiny little bow. “At your service.”

“I don’t know you.”

“No,” he agreed. “But I know you.”

And maybe I was getting tired of people saying that to me. “You’re not a wolf.”

“Human as they come. Which, apparently, is more than I could say for you.”

“And you come here,” I said, baring my teeth, “into my territory?”

“Your territory,” he said, sounding amused. “How fascinating. I wonder how that works. You haven’t taken the bite. There’s been no one here to bite you.”

I said, “You should know my pack is ready. In case.”

“In case?” he asked. “In case of what?”

“Anything.”

“You would kill me?”

“If I needed to. If you threatened me and mine.”

“You’re not like the others.”

“Others?”

“Wolves.”

“I’m not a wolf.”

“No,” he said. “But close. Closer than any human should have a right to be. How do you do that?”

“What do you want?”

“I came to deliver a message.”

“Deliver it.”

He blinked. “That’s it?”

I said nothing.

He sighed. “I thought this would be more dramatic, honestly.”

“Sorry to disappoint.”

“In that, yes. But you? Never. A human Alpha. Never heard of such a thing. I can see why he was so desperate for me to come here.”

I was tired of his games. “Who?” I growled and felt a surge of satisfaction when his eyes widened slightly.

“Joe,” he said. “Joe Bennett sent me.”

Things went fuzzy, like that old TV that my daddy used to fuck around with, twisting the rabbit ears until he got a picture that popped and scrolled. I was static and snow and blood rushing through veins.