“Did you sense anything? Smell anything?”
I pushed down my frustration, knowing it was pointless to give into it. Besides the fact I was convinced the alpha would look at me with that blank expression that said I was a child if I threw a tantrum, it would serve no purpose and get me out of here no faster.
“Again, no, I didn’t sense anything.”
But I did smell something.
“You’ve thought of something.”
He stepped closer to the bars.
I thought it was the dumpster, but maybe it had been something else. It had smelled of dead and decaying things. I thought a raccoon or something had died in it or behind it.
“How bad does your dumpster normally reek?” I asked.
“That’s it? Our dumpster smelled?” He didn’t seem convinced.
I sighed. “Look, I may have smelled something, but I can’t be sure. That area was pretty ripe, but I don’t know if that’s normal.”
“I smelled nothing unusual when I checked earlier.”
“Perhaps whatever was there left right before I passed through,” I said, thinking aloud. “Did you ever find out what happened to the guards who were supposed to be on duty?”
“They both said they were relieved by someone but can’t remember who.”
That didn’t help much. What I needed was to get back to that dumpster to see if it smelled the same.
Metal scraped against metal. I looked up to see the alpha holding a key in one gloved hand.
“What’s this? You’re letting me go after all that?”
Not that I planned to complain if he did.
He gave me a sharp toothed grin. “We’re going to test your theory and see if the smell was in your imagination or not.”
Oh. That made a lot more sense.
“I warn you. If you try to escape, my wolves will rip you apart.”
“Ah. How nice of them. All of your guests must feel so at home with your hospitality.”
He took me by the arm, his grip firm but not painful. “We’re werewolves. We don’t have guests; we have dinner.”
How comforting.
*
The alley looked much the same as it had when I passed through earlier. The only difference being the four werewolves eyeing me like I was a juicy rabbit they’d like to pounce on.
I took a deep breath.
That was the other difference. The foul odor I smelled on my way in was gone. I couldn’t believe I thought it was the dumpster. I’d been so focused on finishing my delivery on time I’d missed a vital hint that something was not as it should be.
It occurred to me that it was a good thing I hadn’t been any earlier. I must have missed whatever did this by scant minutes for the smell to be that pronounced.
“Anything?” the feral woman from the bar top asked.
“Yeah. The thing I smelled when I came in is gone.”
