The man looked over at me.
“No one should have to subject themselves to such brutal punishment for sitting down to a nice meal with friends.”
“Let go of my arm,” Greg said, his voice as scary as Reardon’s. “You’re hurting me.”
I watched Floyd glare at the taller man, but he made no move to let go of his wrist. “You’re done with the pack too, Greg,” Floyd said. He let go of the bartender’s wrist so suddenly, Greg almost lost hold of the plate… He would have if Sam hadn’t reached up to catch both sides of it. When Greg set it down in front of Sam, I noted how badly his hand was shaking, not to mention the blood that was dripping freely from his arm.
I glanced at Vincent who didn’t appear to be fazed by the scent of Greg’s blood which made a lot of sense since he wasn’t human. I reached for a napkin, holding it out to Greg who nodded gratefully and pressed it into the marks Floyd’s claws left.
“You’re throwing them out of the pack…why?” Vincent asked. “Because Sam is sitting at the booth with me, and Greg is serving us?”
“You know why, vampire,” Floyd drawled. “I warned everyone to stay away from you, that you were our enemy, you and the unicorn,” he said, nodding at me.
“You’ve been mad at everyone since that day in front of the vampire’s house,” Greg said. “You’ve taken mated females—” The bartender’s voice was cut off when Reardon spun around and grabbed his throat drawing blood with long claws.
I shot out of the booth, hand on my gun. “Let him go, Floyd!” I shouted. To Greg’s credit, he didn’t even try and break free of the hold the alpha had on him. His face was turning red as the werewolf cut off the circulation of blood to his brain.
“Let him go, Reardon.” I pulled my gun and pointed it at the tall alpha, hearing the clattering of dishes and the dropping of silverware as patrons all around us gasped. Slowly, Reardon turned and glared at me. Ten seconds passed until I raised the gun and pressed it against the center of his forehead.
Patrons started running out of the bar in terror.
“Let go of him, Floyd. Drop your hand…NOW!”
Just like that, Reardon’s hand dropped from Greg’s neck, and the bartender stumbled backward against the table where he’d laid the platter. Blood flowed freely from the cuts the alpha’s claws had made, and Greg coughed several times before sucking in some deep breaths.
“You’re not leaving with us?” Reardon hissed at Sam.
I watched Sam absently shake his head even as all his focus was on Greg and the way he was clutching at his bruised and bleeding throat and shaking his head at his friend.
“N-no. I-I’m staying here with Greg,” Sam stammered.
“Fine. You’re both banished from the pack then,” Floyd said. “Enjoy your new friends while you still can. Don’t bother coming for your things. Everything belongs to the pack now.”
“My clothes…my stuff…my car…” Sam began.
“…belongs to us now,” the alpha said, laughing as he and his two enforcers turned and began walking out of the bar.
I stopped them with one sentence. “I’ll be out to Frederick tomorrow, Reardon. I’ll be checking on the women, listening to complaints, and picking up Greg and Sam’s things, along with Sam’s car.”
Reardon turned and glared at me as the growling in his chest grew louder. “You won’t find anyone complaining, Sheriff. Come on out and meet the pack. We’ll even throw a welcome bonfire for you.” He threw back his head dramatically and laughed loudly before exiting the bar.
Sid
I watched the scene at the bar play out just as I thought it might. It was one of the reasons I’d shown up at the saloon the second I felt the werewolves enter the town limits. As a witch, I was aware any time one of the wards I’d set up in the forests around the town was breached. If anyone other than the supernaturals who belonged in the town proper decided to make an unannounced visit, I immediately felt their vibration. I could best describe it as a witch’s early warning system. I knew who they were, and if their intention was good or evil.
Sometimes I had to wait to find out what a malevolent force wanted in the town. In this case, the moment Floyd and his goons left Frederick, heading toward Prosper Woods, I hightailed it to the saloon to offer Vincent and Romeo support. I’d done the same thing when the werewolves surrounded the vampire’s house and most recently when the three other vampires had shown up at the antique store. I admit, I’d hung back watching things play out between the four vamps that day, wanting to see how much of vampire law Vincent knew. I’d been pleasantly surprised and had only stepped in once the new town vamp called for the Law of Embargo.
I’d been impressed with Vincent’s education, though, I probably shouldn’t have been. Clearly the vampire was old. I’d sensed it the moment I felt him drive into town. I wasn’t sure he’d ever been taught the law, though. I’d run into quite a few ignorant members of the vampire race in the centuries I’d been alive. Most vamps who had lived as long as Vincent, had learned the law. But a hell of a lot more had run around killing humans in a carefree manner, living on the excesses of free-flowing blood donors, both willing and unwilling. Those almost never lasted very long.
There were rules to these things.
Not all vampires were aware of the rules or aware that they’d been written down at some point. Those who had makers who couldn’t care less about them, never taught them the law. Those poor ignorant souls didn’t—as a rule—generally die at
