“What about you, Walters?” He shook his head.
Just a mile or so later, we pulled off the freeway at Colfax and entered the grid of side streets. A few minutes after that, we were at New Moon. Tyler saw the funky neon sign and smirked.
“That some kind of joke?” he said.
“Not really,” I said. “It’s kind of a philosophy.”
Ben pulled around back and parked.
Inside, late afternoon, the place was pretty empty, which was also part of the plan. The soldiers looked around carefully—at the tables, brick walls, into the ductwork along the high ceiling, across the bar, studying every inch. I wondered how long it had been since they’d been in a restaurant.
Behind the counter, Shaun noticed us, straightened, and frowned. He was strong, but more than that he was decisive—he could take a stand. I counted on him to back up me and Ben in the pack. If he ever decided he wanted to take over, we’d be in trouble. So we got him firmly on our side by hiring him to manage New Moon. We were a team.
Others of the pack were here as well. Two of them, Dan and Jared, tough but sensible, sat at a table in the corner munching on what looked like buffalo wings. Becky was sitting at the bar, talking to Shaun. They all glanced at Ben and me. I nodded at them, and they quickly looked away—showing deference, acknowledging that I was the boss. But they stared hard at Tyler and Walters, who in their camouflage pants and gray T-shirts stood out. Tyler, closest to me, stiffened. Walters had parted his lips, showing teeth.
The whole scene was like something out of a spaghetti Western. Everyone was still, silent, sizing each other up. Waiting for someone else to flinch first. I could almost hear the Morricone soundtrack.
I touched Tyler’s arm, half expecting him to jump away and snarl, the first step to starting a fight. He just looked at me, at my hand on his arm, as if he was trying to figure out a code.
“It’s okay. They’re my pack. They’re friends,” I said.
He relaxed a notch, and so did Walters. I kept contact with Tyler for a moment—contact meant comfort within the pack. I didn’t know if he was quite pack yet. I didn’t know if that was what we were doing here—bringing them into the pack. Maybe we were. Tyler and Walters still watched the other wolves warily, and wouldn’t look at anything else.
“Let’s sit down,” I said, and steered them toward a table in back.
At the table, a weird kind of dance ensued. I just grabbed the first chair I came to. Ben stood back a little, as if he knew what was going to happen. Tyler and Walters slinked around me, looking over their shoulders, sidling along until they reached the chairs closest to the wall, which they pulled back and arranged so they were looking out. They weren’t quite sitting at the table, but they could keep everyone in the place, as well as all the exits, in view. It wasn’t quite natural, even for werewolves. I blinked at them, confused.
Ben leaned over and whispered, “Backs to the wall. It’s a soldier thing. Haven’t you seen Cormac do that?”
I’d only recently seen Cormac in a setting like this to be able to judge. Before then, it was all shadowy nighttime battles, and then the prison visiting room. But Ben was right. I suddenly felt like I was baby-sitting dynamite.
Tyler and Walters perched on their seats and glared out at the world. I settled in across from them, attempting to send out all the soothing vibes I could. Be calm, we’re all friends here.
Then Shaun came over.
This was a perfectly normal human situation: we were customers in his restaurant, he needed to take our orders. But he looked like a wolf on the prowl.
He reached the table, and Tyler and Walters stood, leaning forward, bracing. Ben and I stood along with them, out of pure instinct. We had to be tallest. And even if I wasn’t I had to act like it. But we all stood as part of a dominance display and our heart rates rose right along with us.
I took a calming breath. “Everyone settle down. Nobody’s getting into any kind of a fight.”
I sat first, glaring, making it clear I was lowering myself to show a good example, and they shouldn’t read anything into it. Tyler kept watching me closely, as if he was waiting for me to slip. The two soldiers slowly returned to their seats; only then did Ben sit.
“I’m Shaun,” he said, offering his hand for shaking. Tyler took a moment to figure out what to do with it. Shaun waited patiently until Tyler finally shook it, and Walters followed his lead. “What can I get for you?”
“What are you doing working here?” Tyler asked, accusing, maybe even confused.
Shaun chuckled nervously, equally confused. “Kitty hired me to manage the place. Is there something wrong with that?”
“But you’re a werewolf,” Tyler said.
“And what am I supposed to do, live in the woods and eat rabbits for the rest of my life? I still have to pay the rent.”
Tyler looked sullen. “This just doesn’t seem like the best job for a werewolf.”
Shaun glanced at me for a cue, or maybe even to take over the conversation. For my part, my heart kind of broke a little, at the thought that Tyler believed that as a werewolf he could only be a warrior.
“That’s kind of the point of coming here. There’s such a thing as a nonmilitarized werewolf,” I said. “I run a talk radio show. Ben’s a lawyer.”