I switched the phone to the other hand as I leaned into the corner before righting the bike again. The bike and I coasted down the deserted street.
“It’s Aileen.”
“Don’t know you.”
I gritted my teeth. Figures he’d have someone answering his phone for him and screening his calls.
“He does. Please give him the phone. I have information he needs.”
I wasn’t too sure about that, but I figured he’d want to know one of his wolves was running around like a puppet with that hooded man controlling their strings. Sondra had struck me as being in his inner circle. If it was my pack, I would want to know.
“How about you give me the information and I’ll pass it along.”
I debated that, tempted. It would be so easy to pass off the responsibility. I could head back home or make progress on the job Liam had given me.
Something stopped me. Perhaps it was the memory of last year when one of Brax’s own pack plotted for his death, or maybe it was the memory of Sondra asking me to keep her updated on anything strange.
I didn’t know if the hooded man had compelled anyone else or if he could compel them to act normal at times. Whatever the reason, I needed to give this message to Brax and only Brax. Anything else would nag at me.
“This isn’t the kind of information passed through an intermediary.”
“Then I guess Brax won’t get that information.”
“Look, just tell Brax to call Aileen. He’ll know who you’re talking about.”
There was a snort of disbelief. “Right. I’ll get right on that.”
There was a click and then a dial tone sounded in my ear.
I held out the phone looking at it with disbelief. He did not just hang up on me. What kind of message taker was that? This was an emergency or at least had the possibility of being one. This seemed like a crappy way of managing your phone calls.
I somehow doubted he planned to let Brax know I needed to speak with him, which left me back at square one.
I took a sharp right and then wound my way through another street until I pointed my bike in the opposite direction.
I’d just have to track Brax down myself. He was going to get an earful about his phone management when I finally caught up to him.
* * *
Lou’s Bar was harder to find this time. I probably wouldn’t have managed it if I hadn’t caught sight of a man I remembered from my last visit, leaving an unassuming building and heading to his car.
They must have increased the strength of their ‘don’t look here’ spell. Even knowing it was there my eye kept wanting to skip over it.
Located in an area where Clintonville ended and Worthington started, the bar was in that transitional border that wasn’t quite nice enough to fit into either. The area had improved in recent years from the sort you wouldn’t be caught outdoors in after dark to one where you needed to keep your eyes on your valuables and walk quickly.
It should be a popular waterhole with the locals, but I imagined the spell kept anyone who wasn’t a wolf from wandering in and sitting down.
Through several quick glances, where I had to fight against turning away the whole time, I noticed the lit sign above the door had the name Lou’s Bar highlighted. This was definitely the place.
On my last visit, there had been two wolves guarding the door against any normal who somehow got past the spell.
I didn’t see anybody standing there tonight, but that didn’t mean they weren’t there. It was getting increasingly difficult to focus on the bar. Almost like the spell knew I was trying to get inside and had doubled its efforts to keep me out.
My feet took me a few steps beyond it before I brought myself back under control by sheer willpower.
Whoever had boosted it had gone a little overboard. Especially when other people might need to get ahold of a wolf.
I could kind of understand their paranoia. A wolf had been killed in a back room last year. Right under their noses. It seemed to have made them a little sensitive.
