When He's an Alpha (The Olympus Pride 2)

The cheetah’s breathing picked up as they all spread out and took up positions around the room. He cast Alex an exceptionally wary look. Well, no one wanted to anger a wolverine—those ferocious bastards fucking ate their prey, teeth and all.

Staring down at Taggart, Tate felt his hands clench and his back teeth lock. This piece of shit had tried to kill his mate. It was an honest to God’s struggle not to slice open the bastard’s throat. No, that death was too quick. Too painless. Tate had bigger plans for him.

Impatient by nature, his inner cat didn’t want to wait. Didn’t care to make the bastard sweat. He only wanted to surface and avenge Havana. But he did understand that it was important to get answers if they were to track down the bigger danger to her, so the cat stayed calm, his muscles bunched, his upper lip quivering to bare a fang.

Taggart’s gaze snapped to something on the floor, and he jerked in his seat. “Fucking fuck.”

It was only then that Tate noticed the black mamba slithering along the wooden planks. He looked at Havana, who gave him a reassuring smile and said, “It’s fine, she won’t bite.”

She probably wouldn’t unless ordered to by Havana, but Taggart didn’t look so convinced of that. He was eyeing the serpent like it had come straight from the bowels of hell.

Exuding an air of cool that he absolutely did not feel, Tate grabbed the spare chair, twisted it, and then straddled it. “It’s Malcolm, right?” He twisted his mouth. “I had an uncle named Malcolm. Distant uncle. He was an alcoholic. Compulsive gambler, too. Died in a car accident. Very sad.”

“I thought his name was Mick,” said Luke, his brow creasing.

Vinnie shook his head. “No, it was Malcolm. That man was his own worst enemy. He never knew what was best for him.” Vinnie looked at the cheetah. “I hope for your sake that we can’t say the same about you.”

“If he knew what was best for him, he wouldn’t have shot Havana,” said Tate, flexing his fingers.

Taggart swallowed. “I told you, I didn’t know she was under your protection.”

Like that made a single bit of difference to Tate or his cat. “Maybe you didn’t initially. But it doesn’t really matter either way. The fact is you did come after her. And so we came after you. Now, this boss of yours … tell me about him.”

“I don’t know his name. He never gave it. He called me one day, said someone recommended me to him, and told me that he’d like to add me to his payroll. When he wants someone dead, he calls me.”

Alex slipped his hands in his pockets. “And you make it happen, huh?”

Taggart forced a shrug, doing a poor imitation of nonchalant. “I do what I gotta do to survive.”

“Bullshit,” said Alex. “You chose the easy way. You could have done what the three loners here have done. You could have lived a normal life, worked a normal job, sought protection in other ways. You decided not to.”

Tate tipped his head toward Havana. “You see that mark on her neck, Malcom? I put that there. Not just because I’m somewhat possessive, but because I like seeing my mate wear the imprint of my teeth on her skin.”

Taggart’s eyes widened, and the blood left his face. His legs tensed, as if he were getting ready to run. But no one had to point out that he wasn’t going anywhere. “Look … I didn’t know she was yours, man.”

“Doesn’t matter if you did or you didn’t,” said Tate, his voice dangerous. “You pumped three bullets into her. Into my mate. That’s not something a man like me would or could ever forgive.” Tate still couldn’t get the footage of the drive-by out of his head. He wasn’t sure he ever would.

Taggart flinched as the mamba began to ever so slowly slither up his leg. “I told you, it wasn’t personal.”

“It was just a job, right. The shifter who tried kidnapping Havana told us that very same thing. Your boss sent him after her. He likes to sell loners at auction. Did you know that?” By the sheer shock on Taggart’s face, the answer was no. “He’s pissed because she apprehended her kidnapper and none of us will simply forget what happened.”

“I didn’t know he was doing that shit.” Taggart flinched again as the mamba slid along his thigh toward his chest.

“I doubt it would have made much of a difference to you if you had. Now … it seems your boss has jaguar shifters working for him. Do you know anything about that?”

Taggart’s eyes sharpened. “Jaguars?”

Everything in Tate stood up and paid attention. “Tell me what you know.” Because it was clear the asshole knew something.

The cheetah licked his lips. “What’s in it for me if I tell you?”