The Wolf Fount by Gayla Drummond Read Free Book Online

litany of reasons behind her removal from one foster home after another during that ten years. “Disruptive influence” seemed to be a favorite.
    She was only twenty-six. “You’ve been a busy girl.”
    No drug- or alcohol-related arrests. Apparently, Morgan liked a clear head during her crime sprees. Cal snorted, flipping to the final page, which informed him there was a hit out on her. She’d pissed off a drug dealer while working for an escort service less than two months ago. No info on what she’d done to piss off the dealer, but he’d be the second to know once it was discovered.
    Around him, employees, all Weres, were busy readying the club for the night. He sighed, wondering where she was holed up, since the newest information was her purchase of the car, for cash, six weeks prior in Nevada. “Jake.”
    “Yeah, Boss?” The other set down the case he was carrying.
    “I want a tail on her the minute she leaves here.” That was assuming Morgan returned tonight, and managed to sneak away again.
    “I’ll put Dougie on her.”
    Cal nodded, gathering up the papers. Dougie was a twenty-year-old Were leopard with a knack for blending in. He had a forgettable, though good-natured, face. “Thanks. I’m going to get the clean-up on her started.”
    “Might want to hold off until she’s Awakened. Two or three days is plenty of time for her to rack up a few more arrests.”
    “She’s tried to be good for the past couple of years.” If good included just a few trips downtown for suspicion of prostitution. “Don’t worry about it.”
    “You’re the boss.” Jake shrugged and returned to his stocking.
    Cal went to the office behind the bar to make the necessary calls. Everything but her birth records, social security, and driver’s license would be erased before two weeks passed. He emailed her name and one of her mug shots to the Were geek team at headquarters. They’d do a scrub: scour the Internet and erase anything they found on her. He stared at the shot for a minute. Her hair had been quite a bit longer in it.
    If necessary, he’d provide her with a completely new identity. Because of their near immortality, Weres “died” and were reborn on a regular basis, thanks to the network he’d spent centuries building.
    Morgan Shelby would appear twenty-six for the rest of her life, though it was possible her height and weight might change as humans continued to evolve.
    He looked early-to-mid-thirties, though he’d been twenty when changed. People had lived shorter, harder lives back then, so had tended to age faster. He’d been shorter and less muscular as well.
    Cal wondered what she’d think of that, but his mind lost interest, switching track to a thought he’d been trying to ignore: How much of last night was honest?
    She’d been hooking for a living for years. From what he’d picked up over his long life, prostitutes didn’t make money if they didn’t have any acting ability.
    A chuckle escaped him. It had been an extremely long time since he’d worried whether or not he’d pleased a woman. Thousands of years of learning and practice gave him some big bragging rights in the bedroom.
    His long-dead wife was the cause behind those efforts. Married at fourteen–back then, people married at ages now considered not even legal for sexual consent in most civilized countries–he’d known nothing but what he’d seen around campfires, or of his parents. Homes back then hadn’t had private bedrooms either.
    Sarah had been thirteen, and their wedding night a complete disaster. Cal winced, remembering it. He’d hurt her, though she’d borne it with gritted teeth and silence, because that’s what she’d been taught to do.
    He much preferred now, when most women were neither afraid nor ashamed to speak up and tell a guy what did or didn’t work for them.
    I don’t get off, you don’t get any . With a laugh, he left the desk and locked her history in the wall safe.
    Career prostitute or not,