“You’re here because you’re jealous of me.” And then Josh’s eyes widened in surprise, his expression softened, and his lips curved. “Holy shit. You’re jealous of me.” He let his head drop back as he looked at the ceiling. “Why didn’t I see that before? All those times you beat me up. All those things you did to make me feel small. It was because you’re jealous.” He grinned as he looked back at Bruce. “I’m smarter than you. I’m going to earn a hell of a lot more money than you. And now I’m happy. Do you hear that?” He leaned forward as if shoving something shiny into Bruce’s face. “I’m happy, and there’s nothing you can do about it.”
And then he looked over Bruce’s shoulder to where Laddin was leaning against the wall, listening to every word.
“We’ve had our private chat. Now keep your puppy the hell away from me,” Josh said, then spun around and went back into Wulfric’s room.
Meanwhile, Bruce stood there, feeling raw. In his imagination, they’d had the conversation in a bar over beers. They’d talk about sports and Josh’s chemistry stuff. Then Bruce’s apology would have landed on softer ground. Never in his wildest dreams had it gone this badly. And now he was smarting from the pain of being so wrong.
“Is it true?” Laddin asked. “Are you jealous?” His voice was calm, but there was an edge to it. Enough to let Bruce know he had to answer.
“No.”
“He’s got a lot to be jealous of. He’s brilliant, a ton of fun, and has a bright future with a guy who loves him.”
Bruce turned to stare hard at Laddin. “Sounds like you’re jealous.”
Laddin’s lips curved. “I gave up jealousy the day I quit peewee football.” He held up his hand with the shortened fingers. “Even with this, I could catch and throw. And since I was fast, I was an asset to the team.”
“What does that have to do with anything?” Bruce tried—and failed—to keep the annoyance out of his tone.
“I hated football. It’s just a bunch of guys beating up on each other. But it made me realize that I needed to go for whatIwanted, not what everyone else had.”
“Football is about a lot more than simply beating each other up.”
Laddin shrugged. “Maybe, but I had much more fun blowing shit up. A little C-4 made my life Nirvana. Pretty soon I was working on movie sets for real money, and I wasn’t risking brain damage to do it.”
“You sure? Post-concussion syndrome happens with explosives too.”
“Clever,” Laddin said as he pushed off the wall. “Turn the questions around to me and put it straight into your area of expertise. The thing is, I’m not playing. We’re talking about you now. About why you chose to rescue a brother who doesn’t need or want your help.”
Damn, he’d underestimated Laddin. Not only did he have the guts to face down Nero in Wulfric’s bedroom, but he was smart too. That earned Bruce’s respect… and an honest answer. “That fairy meant business. He was talking aboutenslavingJosh.”
“And you could have told Josh that. But instead, you pop a cherry into your mouth and become just like him. Sounds like jealousy to me.”
“It’s not! I was trying to protect him!”
“Because you know all about fairies and werewolves and stuff like that.”
Bruce shut his mouth. This was a rehash of the exact argument he’d had with Josh, and he didn’t feel like doing it again. He buttoned his lip and moved into an at-attention stance. If he was going to get chewed out, then fine. It wouldn’t be his first time. But he’d be damned if he discussed his fucked-up brotherly relationship with anyone.
Except Laddin didn’t chew him out. He stood there and watched him, his gaze heavy and his body weirdly still. In the short time that Bruce had known Laddin, the guy had never stopped moving. This sudden stillness was unnerving. Which—he supposed—was exactly the point. But he’d lay odds that he could outlast Mr. Hyperactive any day. He stood still too… and waited.
Laddin lasted about two minutes.
“What are you doing?” Laddin asked.
“I’m waiting for my orders.” He had to stop himself from adding “sir!”
“Right. Because this is the military… not.”
Now it was Bruce’s turn to be confused. “Aren’t you, though? Fighting demons and fairies and whatnot?”
Laddin nodded. “Yeah, but we’re different. We’re werewolves. We create packs.”
“Isn’t there a hierarchy within the pack?”
“Well, yes. Nero’s the pack leader, unless Yordan’s there putting us through calisthenics. Then there’s Captain M, who is my trainer. She’s higher up than the rest of us, but she’s not technically in our pack. Actually, we haven’t really been named a pack yet. Everyone calls us the geeks, though that’s not a real pack name, just a description of who we are.” Laddin frowned. “Wow. We are a mess.”
He said it. And the guy’s frown of consternation made Bruce smile. “Let me help you out. You’re my trainer, right? You’re in charge of me.”
