The vamp’s fluid sexuality, more than anything else, was deeply offensive to the weres. The worst thing you could do to another wolf was to make him suck your cock.
It was the ultimate shame—the most degrading insult reserved for outcasts from the pack.
Paul had seen Angel punish a few of the lower wolves that way before stripping them of their status. The packleader seemed to enjoy it, taking his time thrusting between the fallen wolf’s lips before filling his mouth with cum. Of course, if the wolf in question didn’t swallow every drop he was beaten. Paul had watched and wondered what it must be like to feel another man’s hard shaft pushing between his lips, wondered if it would be worth losing his status and becoming a lone wolf in order to taste another male just once like that.
“C’mon, let’s go see what’s doing.” Angel tucked his cock back in his shorts casually and loped off in the direction of the shout. Paul followed, not sure if he was relieved or disappointed to have been interrupted.
When they got to the center of the commotion, Chulo was trying and failing to get the other wolves to settle down and pay attention. “Come on, guys. Come on,” he kept saying but his reedy voice was drowned out by the excited clamor of the other wolves.
Angel had stopped a few feet away from the pack and none of them had noticed him or Paul yet. He gave Paul a look and then cut his eyes at his first cousin who was trying and failing to get the pack members in order. “Fucking weak blood in that one, man.” He shook his head. “Get their attention, will you, hermano?”
Paul nodded and strode directly into the heart of the pack. The wolves and their females made way for him at once though most of them topped him by more than a few inches. Ignoring Chulo who was standing right beside him, he waited for a moment until all eyes were on him and then raised his voice slightly. “Listen up. Your packleader has something to say.”
“Thanks, Skulls.” Angel came forward and the wolves parted before him. Like Moses and the fucking Red Sea, Paul thought, with a mixture of admiration and resentment.
“Okay, who saw the vamps?”
Chulo stepped toward Angel eagerly. “Gordo did. He came and said—”
“Yeah, I heard him yelling.” Angel’s eyes passed over his cousin like he wasn’t there. “Gordo, where are you, hermano?”
“Here, packleader.” A rail-thin wolf pushed in from the back of the pack. His name didn’t exactly fit him since he was one of those guys who could never gain weight, his lean frame all stringy muscle and bones. “I was out scenting for prey and I saw them right near the center of the park.”
“Good.” Angel looked bored. “Tell Skulls the details. He’s taking point tonight.”
“Why Skulls?” Chulo stepped forward, his dark eyes angry. He had some of Angel’s looks but none of his charisma—he would never be packleader and everyone knew it. Everyone but him.
Angel gave him a withering look. “Why do you think, numbnuts? Skulls is second wolf. If I’m not here, he leads. Simple as that.”
“But Gordo reported to me first.” Chulo’s chin jutted angrily.
“He reported to the whole damn park—Skulls and I heard him from half a mile away. We’ll be lucky if the entire coven isn’t gone by the time you fucking pendejos get going.” Angel looked at Paul. “You ready to go?”
“Always ready, packleader.” Paul took his cue from Angel and ignored the smoldering stare of hatred Chulo was directing at his head. He knew what Angel’s cousin was thinking. By virtue of his blood he should have been second wolf and would have been too, if Paul hadn’t been in his way. But since I have no intention of getting out of his fucking way any time soon, he better learn to deal.
“That’s mi nino. ” Angel gave him a chest bump and then threw back his head to deliver a long, liquid howl to the night sky. The pack returned the cry, a hair-raising sound meant to strike fear in the cold dead heart of any bloodsucker stupid enough to be out after dark in Lunas Locas territory.
Paul howled with the rest, feeling at one with the pack and yet apart from them, as always. No matter how long he’d been in Miami or how close he was to Angel there was always the sense that he didn’t quite belong, that he wasn’t quite right. And it wasn’t just because he wasn’t Latino. As always, when the pack ran he vowed to change that about himself, to fix it. Because it wasn’t the pack that was broken—it was him. If he could just be normal…
“Go kill some fucking vamps!” Angel roared, shattering his resolutions. He clapped Paul on the shoulder and nodded. “Buena suerta, ’mano. Go kick some vampire ass.”