“Good. Ian and Colton have decided to return with us at the end of the week. Tell Steel, his brother is doing great. Dakota’s happier than I’ve seen him in a long time. Zane is over the moon about his mate. Theo and Norm are doing couple massages…no one’s in trouble for a change.”
“What about Kieran and the pup?” asked Jackson.
Grinning as he thought about his mate, Logan said, “Growing like a weed…the pup that is. Hey, before I go, are you going to tell me about white dragons?”
“Sure but I don’t know a lot. They’re extremely rare… they’re either connected to the sun god or the moon god and, if I remember correctly, the lunar-white dragon has a power. That’s it,” replied Jackson.
“Are you going to tell Dylon about Fionn’s dragon?” Logan asked.
“Of course,” Jackson said, “so he knows what he’s up against.”
Yawning, Logan said, “It’s late and it’s been a long night so give Daniel a kiss for me and I’ll talk to you tomorrow, Jackie.”
“Go, get some sleep…if Kieran will let you. Bye,” Jackson said, hanging up before his brother could respond to his tease about his mate.
~/~/~/~/~
There were only a few more grant applications Carson had to review before calling it a night. So far, he wasenjoying everything about his promotion and was determined to prove the company had chosen wisely. He thought nothing would top the day Jackson and Steel gave him a new laptop loaded with all the business software he’d need in his new position—a job he’d only dreamed about after his family was massacred and his education cut short. But when Steel told him they wanted him to head the Dire Enterprises Grant Division—thatwas the highlight of his life and Carson doubted anything would ever surpass it.
The corporate beliefs and values of Dire Enterprises were exactly why he wanted to go into business. He knew his brothers never understood his attraction to the corporate world, teasing him about his pursuit of wealth. But that wasn’t the reason at all. Carson’s goal was to start a company that would share profits with its employees, so their lives would be better.
He’d spent hours researching companies, taking notes on the good points each had before writing a business plan for his fictional company. In it, Carson outlined the philosophy and goals of a profit-sharing business whose core purpose was to provide a product or service the world needed. A total win-win as Carson saw it. But after the massacre he shelved the business plan, his dream shattered as he and his brothers struggled to stave off his Uncle Josiah’s kill order.
But then the Fates brought Steel—and Dire Enterprises—into his life.And tonight, here I am, going over grant applications that promise to make the lives of wolf shifters better.He’d spent the last week with Steel, learning about the inner workings of his job and reviewing pending applications to give him a good understanding of what Dire Enterprises was looking for before granting funds, sometimes in the millions. Andthat thought still boggled his mind, finding it unbelievable he was now in control of millions of dollars.
Picking up the last application, Carson began to read Slate’s notes on what was missing, then, turning over the cover sheet, he gasped at who the applicant was, quickly dropping the document as if it were a hot coal. All the terrible emotions he’d fought so hard to hide came roaring back. Sorrow, guilt, anger—all raged inside of him, each fighting to bury him in the never-ending helplessness that had consumed him that summer when Jackson told them what happened.
Carson closed his eyes and did what Colton taught him. Taking deep breaths, he slowly released them while he focused on the sound of air passing in and out of his mouth. After several minutes, he was able to take control, pushing his feelings into the part of his mind he kept behind a locked door.
Then, vowing his dirtbag uncle would not stop him again, he picked up the application and began to read, methodically matching each document in the folder against Slate’s checklist until the only item missing was a ‘request for waiver.’ Discovering a sealed envelope in the folder, Carson opened it, pulling out a letter with a document attached to it.
Expecting to see a request for a waiver regarding the title to the Fox River Pack lands, there was, instead, a letter from Josiah informing Slate he’d been able to procure the title through the courts using an expedited action allowed when there weren’t any direct heirs.What the fuck? Impossible!Reading the letter again to make sure he’d understood it correctly, he muttered, “Unfuckingbeleivable!” But there it was—a Court Order conveying ownership of the Fox River lands to his uncle.
That fucking son of a bitch…stealing our land…he’s got some balls.Jumping up, Carson paced the room, his anger threatening to take over and force a shift so his wolf could hunt down Josiah. However, this time Carson fought it, taking control and reducing the fire inside him to embers. Looking at the time, Carson saw it was too late to show Steel and Jackson what their uncle had done, so he put everything back into the folder and placed it in a desk drawer. Then sending a text to Steel and Jackson, Carson turned off the lights before leaving for the night, pleased that he was able to use reason to rule over his emotions.
~/~/~/~/~
The Wolf Pack Pub was closed for the night and Morgan was frustrated. When he received a reply from one of his bartenders describing a new shifter that had come in a couple of days ago, he was excited. According to Keniji’s text, the guy was not human; he knew instantly he was waiting on a paranormal but didn’t know what kind the man was. That, in itself, raised Morgan’s curiosity, since Keniji was usually infallible about identifying the kinds of shifters at the bar.
Evidently, the man visited the Wolf Pack Pub at least one other time during Keniji’s shift, so Morgan decided to spend his night off working with him at the bar, hoping to get a glimpse of the unknown shifter. Though Morgan scented each new customer with high hopes, most were human. “The dude was a ‘no show’, Keniji,” Morgan said to his bartender.
Keniji nodded, drying and stacking the glasses. “That he was, Mr. Morgan.” Moving on to restock the liquor, he said, “I’ve been thinkin’ and maybe I could point him out on your security tapes.”
Pausing, Morgan grinned at his bartender, “That’s a fucking brilliant idea, Keniji. I can have it set up tomorrow, if that’s okay.”
“Can’t. Gotta take the missus to see her sister, but if you’re willin’, I could do it tonight,” Keniji said.
“Are you sure?” asked Morgan.
“Sure…I’ll finish up here. Why don’t you get it ready and I’ll be right in.”
“Thanks,” replied Morgan, hanging up his wet towel before heading to his office. Sitting down at his desk, Morgan accessed the security camera archives, quickly locating the feed for the night the shifter had been there. Loading it onto his computer, he turned his monitor so they’d both be able to view it. It was a long shot, but if Keniji could point the man out—and there was a clear shot of his face—he’d send it to Brian tonight. Hopefully, it would be the intruder he was searching for.
A sharp rap sounded before Keniji entered, taking a seat. “All finished, Mr. Morgan. The bar is ready for tomorrow.”
“Thanks, Keniji, I wasn’t sure what time you saw him so the tape starts when your shift began. Clicking on the start button, Morgan sat back in his chair, watching the stream of customers as they ordered their drinks. Some had their backs to the camera, others were only in profile, but most had their full faces showing. After a couple of hours, Keniji finally pointed at a customer.
“That’s him.”
