Training Their Mate [Pack Wars-Book 1] by Vella Day Read Free Book Online

“So
the works is good for you?”
    It took her a moment to
realize he was asking about the pizza. “Can you add bread sticks?”
    He smiled, something that
seemed so easy for him. “I can order you anything you want.”
    “How about Harvey Couch’s
head on a platter.”
    He grinned and looked up at
his brother who was still hiding behind the center island. “Trax, I’m telling
ya. She would make a great operative.” The pizza place must have been on his
speed dial because he only pressed one button.
    When he told them his name
and said one order of the usual and hung up, she figured he lived on the stuff.
    “She lacks a few of the
necessary parts.” Trax briefly glanced at her.
    Now he was being sexist. “So
only men work in your groupie thing?”
    His shoulders stiffened. “My groupie thing is a well-organized
collection of highly specialized men.” He inhaled and his gaze shot down to the
left as if he was debating adding something else. “You might as well get used
to some of their names in case they stop by. We don’t want you frightened.”
    “Well, thank you.” She really
wasn’t planning on staying past tomorrow.
    “General Armand leads our
group. We call ourselves the Pack. His job is to ferret out the bad shifters to
make sure they don’t draw attention to themselves.”
    Dante leaned closer. “By the
way, we call those people, Colters.”
    She scrunched up her face.
“Why Colters?”
    “Legend has it a long time
ago there was a man named Jack Colter who turned bad. He broke off from his
pack and began to rob banks. Those who went to the dark side were called
Colter’s men. From then on, we’ve called those bad shifters, Colters.”
    “Interesting.” She returned
to Trax’s comment about a general heading his group. She was impressed that a
military man would run the organization. It didn’t surprise her that Trax would
take part given he was a marine and all. “What would happen if these Colters
got caught by the authorities doing something illegal, like drug smuggling?”
She had no idea if the FBI knew about the existence of shifters and were just
keeping the public in the dark.
    The corner of his lip lifted.
“It would be bad. Because it’s really hard to kill them or even drug them, as
you found out, a lot of humans would get injured or killed if the two engaged
in a shootout.”
    “I don’t get it.”
    He ran a hand over his short
hair. “Unless a bullet hits a werewolf squarely in the heart, he can repair his
body so fast, it won’t even slow him down. This makes werewolves highly
dangerous to law enforcement, which is why we have to stop these bastards
before the FBI or the local police find them. We have the poison bullets. The
authorities do not because they don’t know werewolves exist.”
    That did make sense. “You
keep calling the Colters, bad shifters. That implies there are some good
werewolves around.”
    “There might be.”
    That wasn’t an answer. Trax
slipped out from behind the counter and headed toward his room. She figured he
was going to collect some of his stuff for the night.
    She faced Dante. “So who else
is in this organization?” One name wasn’t enough for her inquisitive mind.
    “I doubt you’ll run into many
in the group, but there are four other men who do exactly what we do.” He
leaned closer. “Or rather, what Trax does. I was telling the truth before. I
mostly run the store, and our resident vigilante prowls the streets making sure
it’s safe for people like you.” His voice was laced with pride.
    “Who are
these other men?”
    “Drake
Stanton and Kurt Wendlick are partners, along with Clay Demmers and Dirk
Tilton.”
    She’d
never remember their names. “Are they ex-military, too?”
    “For the
most part.”
    Trax came
out of his room carrying some clothes, a pillow, and a blanket. “Dante, you’re
a slob.”
    “What
else is new?”
    “You just
dumped her toothbrush on top of her clothes.”
    Dante
looked over at her.