White Wolf 2: The Call of a Soul by Jianne Carlo Read Free Book Online Page A

few reasons: the town diner, the Caboose, was across the road, plus the three-story building had two basement levels, and a back alleyway entrance led to the lower of the two, making it possible to enter and exit the building without attracting attention.
    “Anything else happen at the murder site?”
    “Nothing of consequence except that Melanie obviously doesn’t like Pincer. When we get back, do your thing and dig into him. I want to know how he shits, when he jerks off, what he picks his teeth with. Every detail you can find.” Mike had barely been able to contain himself when the sheriff had read Melanie a riot act about “keeping her trap shut.” He’d wanted to pound the man into the ground when Melanie’s pupils contracted to needle points and fear added a bitter edge to her unique flower-and-musk fragrance.
    “Done. You think he’s hitting on her?”
    “He’s a dead man if he is or has.”
    “I seem to recall he’s in his early forties, six-two or thereabouts, and one of those good-looking country boy types.”
    “Not in as good shape as that pic from your research, maybe fifteen pounds heavier, but otherwise dead-on as usual. When was it that he became sheriff?” The mouthwatering aroma of bacon sizzling went straight from the Caboose’s exhaust to Mike’s nose. He salivated.
    “About three months after we left.” Drake rocked on his heels while they waited for the sole traffic light boasted of by the citizens of Chabegawn to go green. “Never seen you jealous before. This mate shit’s eating you up. Christ on a bike. I hope I avoid it for another decade or so.”
    “Good luck with that one. Trust me—you don’t have a choice when it hits you.” And if that wasn’t the understatement of several centuries, nothing was.
    “I’m starved. Heck if there ain’t nothing like the smell of bacon frying.” Drake waved air to his nostrils and took an exaggerated inhale. “Bacon, steak, eggs, and the works for me.”
    Both men had the high metabolisms of their kind and neither watched their weight, but Mike tried to eat healthy most of the time. Drake didn’t. The pup ate like a bear sensing the onset of winter, day in, day out.
    Drake stalked across the intersection.
    Mike shot a look at the sky. It was clear and a powder shade of blue. “God save me from growing pups.”
    Drake cuffed him. “I’m legal and full grown. Cut the pup stuff.”
    Mike ruffled Drake’s hair and ducked to avoid his brother’s right cross.
    “Damn it, Mikey. I am not nine years old.”
    “You cut the Mikey, and I’ll cut the pup.”
    Halting at the entrance to the diner, Drake scowled. “I’d give my left nut if you really meant that.”
    One second turned into minutes, and Mike had to swallow the obstruction in his throat at the loaded emotions blazing from Drake’s blue eyes. “I mean it. It’s time I stopped hovering over you. New beginning. New business. Equal partners in everything. Work for you?”
    Drake blinked and looked away. His Adam’s apple bobbed. When he nodded and met Mike’s stare head-on, a glimmer made his eyes seem to twinkle. But Mike knew his brother was all choked up.
    “Since you’re now the man, breakfast’s on your tab.” Mike shoulder jabbed Drake.
    “Lead the way.” Drake held the door open and waved.
    Mike couldn’t help grinning. Damn, he’d raised a fine man. And shit, he hoped to keep that promise, but being an alpha wolf meant he had built-in protective instincts that’d make a lioness seem sheepish.
    He didn’t recognize the hostess, but then again it had been years since he’d been in Chabegawn for more than a few days. The yearning to grow roots had started gnawing at his insides five months ago when he’d spent three days dogging Melanie’s footsteps.
    “Morning. Two for breakfast?” The waitress’s name tag read Brinda . Probably mid-thirties, hair a reddish honey brown, dark circles under blue eyes watered down by the unexpected ups and downs in life.