Christian had never had that. Not once. And now Jesse never would again.
Pity flared in him, sharp and painful. God damn it, they had to find out what had happened to this pack. He had no sympathy for what had happened to Cale’s pack—they’d lived in violence, so it was only fair they died the same way—but if Jesse’s memories were to be trusted, his pack had been like any other. They’d done nothing to deserve the terror that had been visited upon them.
He was still burning with the need to do something when they got back to the car and shifted once more. “Forget all that subtlety bullshit. We’re just going to ask them what happened to the pack.”
Dave took his time replying, seeming to concentrate instead on buttoning the butt-ugly shirt he’d chosen to wear today. It looked like someone had thrown up on it after a pizza binge, with splotches of yellow, red and green on a bright blue background.
Then he looked at Christian with that quiet, unreadable expression that sometimes made him feel like he was under a microscope. Not in a bad way, just in aDaveway.
“Let’s give subtle one more try,” he said eventually. “If they’ve got something to hide and they know we’re looking for information, they’ll close ranks.”
He didn’t care how reasonable Dave sounded—there was a line between patience and pissing around, and Dave was real close to crossing it. Christian didn’t do passive.
“One more try,” he said, his eyes challenging on Dave’s. But he didn’t mean it like a threat. Not to Dave. Never to Dave.
“That’s enough,” Dave said mildly, folding himself into the passenger seat.
DAVE
Christian was greeted like a long-lost friend when they walked into the old plant that night. Dave left him surrounded by people and searched the crowd, wondering where to start. Justin’s blond hair caught his eye, bright in the light, and he bought two beers from the bar and made his way over to their quiet corner.
“Hi,” he said, passing Justin one of the bottles and seating himself beside him.
Justin’s smile was open and warm. Dave wasn’t sure whether it was at his arrival or the fact he’d brought beer.
“Is this how you spend every weekend?” he asked.
“You’re not from around here, are you?” There was wry, resigned amusement in Justin’s voice.
“California, by way of Colorado,” Dave said. “Why d’you ask?”
“I’m guessing there’s a bit more to do in California than there is here.”
“There’s the coast,” he said.
Although he was happier in Matt’s pack than he’d ever been, he missed the vastness of those wide, endless beaches. He missed taking a board out. He missed sitting on the sand and listening to waves and remembering how small his worries really were. The ocean didn’t change, and that steadiness had made everything else feel survivable.
“I’d love to live by the ocean,” Justin said, longing in his voice. “To wake up every morning and find everything washed clean again.”
Dave nodded.
“All sins forgiven,” Justin said, his voice thick.
Dave frowned as he glanced at Justin, who was concentrating on the bottle in his hands, and wondered just what sins Justin had committed that needed forgiving. And then the first fight was announced, and the noise level grew until it was impossible to talk. Dave leaned back against the wall the way Justin was, and waited for two guys to finish beating the crap out of one another.
He shook his head in bemusement when the fight finally ended and the loser limped away, obviously scarcely able to see due to the blood that was pouring from a cut over his eyes but still snarling at anyone who tried to help him.
“I don’t understand it,” he said, then checked himself. “I mean, Ido,but I don’t.”
Justin’s lips tugged into a grin. “Unlikely as it sounds, I get what you mean,” he said. “I guess you either have the urge or you don’t.” He glanced sideways at Dave. “So if fighting doesn’t call to you, what does?”
Dave stared up at the girders high above them as he thought about Justin’s question. It took him a while to answer.
“I like to go with the flow, not try and control it,” he said at last. He’d learned as a kid that what he wanted didn’t matter. The universe would do its own thing regardless. “And I like taking a step back, only joining in with the world again when I’m ready, when I’m centered.”
He realized suddenly how personal he’d gotten with a complete stranger, and sent a fleeting look sideways at Justin. In his experience, shifters tended to be more forceful than the non-shifters he knew—ready to push back, to prove themselves. It was probably something to do with that territorial streak in their wolves.
Instead of the mockery he half-expected, Justin’s lips were pursed and he was nodding slightly.
