No. Probably not.
Too fucking bad.
Maddox reached into the back pocket of his worn jeans, pulling out a photograph.
Since his disastrous trip to the D.P.R., Maddox decided to skip going to his old home. It was too painful with Evangeline in the wind somewhere. Colt had a spare room and Maddox took it over.
Maddox was relying on his brother for everything: his truck, his clothes, his money, his old cell phone. And now this. It was a good thing Colt had a picture of Maddox and Evangeline in his junk drawer that he was willing to lend him, saving Maddox an agonizing trip out to Wolf’s Creek.
Folding it over so that she was the only one visible, Maddox showed it to the clerk.
“I won’t be here long,” he said. “Look at this picture. I just need an answer. You know this woman?”
“No.”
“Look closer. She’s shopped here before. Has she been in recently?”
The clerk made a display of peering at the photo. After a second, he gulped, then shook his head. “Never seen her before in my life and I work most shifts ‘cause I manage the store. She’s never been a customer of mine.”
Maddox’s wolf had a sense of smell that was especially keen. He’d always been able to tell when someone was lying to him. It was hard to explain to a non-shifter, the way dishonesty had a sour tang like curdled milk. Some witches had the same power, but that was just magic. Maddox, like most shifters, relied on his nose.
Snuffling, he blew the stink from his nostrils. “You sure about that?”
“Damn sure.”
“You’re lying,” Maddox said softly.
He didn’t mean to do it. It just happened. Narrowing his eyes on the human, he stared without blinking. A true predator’s stare. From the way the Ant lost all of his color, Maddox was willing to bet his eyes flashed like liquid gold, a warning rolling across his shuttered expression.
The human took a step away from the counter, followed by another until he was forced to back into the wall behind him. His hands were shaking. So was his voice as he pointed to the exit. “I answered your question. I think it’s time for you to go.”
“Maybe when you give me an answer I like I will.”
The blotchy patches on the clerk’s beefy neck started to match the color of his unruly hair. He raised his arms, showing empty hands. “I’m not looking for any trouble here.”
“I didn’t say I was looking for trouble, either. I said I was looking for her.”
Another gulp. “And I said I’ve never seen her before.”
The scent of deception was even stronger, min
gled with noticeable fear. He didn’t back down, though. Jutting his chin, maintaining eye contact with Maddox’s burgeoning fangs, he pointed at the exit again.
Maddox let his wolf peek through. A rumble deep in his chest, the beginning of a warning growl—
“I’ve got a panic button under my counter. If you don’t leave right now, I’ll press it.”
It was a threat—and a good one, too. Maddox could probably leap over the counter and take out the human manager before he pressed it, but what if the big guy was faster than he looked? No way he could break through emergency wards if they slammed down, leaving him a sitting wolf for the Cage cops to pick up.
Getting out of the Cage was a one-shot deal. If he went back, no amount of pleading or proof would get the board to release him again.
With one last snarl, Maddox snapped his teeth at the Ant before crumpling the photo in his fist, shoving it back in his pocket, and storming for the door.
The Ant might have been able to force him to leave the shop, but that didn’t mean he was going to get rid of Maddox so easily. Unless he was willing to go toe to toe with the wolf, he had to put up with Maddox pacing back and forth on the street corner right outside of his store.
Maddox prowled the same stretch of sidewalk for four straight hours before the human manager finally grew a pair and, from behind the safety of his closed door while waving the phone clutched tightly in his grip, threatened to call the local police and tell them that Maddox was loitering.
Scowling, Maddox debated whether or not it would make him feel better to shift into his wolf and mark his territory all over the jerk’s trash cans. He ultimately decided to take the high road and cross the street where he could glare at the Ant while continuing to keep a vigil for any sign of his mate.