Page 3 of Poet & Protector

The Burnout

August, one year earlier

MASON

I didn’t think I had a death wish, but I must, given where I decided to go tonight.

The Burnout. I stood, tucked in the shadows of the surrounding trees, and stared at the dive bar. Varied neon signs affixed to the ramshackle building glowed like beacons in the darkness, beckoning me toward them…or warning me to stay away.

My palms were damp, nerves making me sweat in a way that felt unnatural. Wolves didn’t have damp paws unless they trod upon rain-soaked earth or splashed through puddles as they chased down prey. They didn’t perspire. But humans did. Despite my strength, whether I was wolf or man, this human form reminded me I was, in fact, vulnerable. I didn’t like that reminder.

Stupid. I’m so stupid for coming here.

I’d snuck out of my bedroom, slinking away from my house in wolf form to race miles through the forest. The smart choice would have been to turn around and run home.

Instead, I watched as the interior lights of the Burnout went dark. Two a.m. Closing time. The neon signs blinked out, one by one, until only a solitary, buzzing outline of a howling wolf remained.

The parking lot was already empty. It was a weeknight. A few die-hard stragglers had emerged from the bar and departed about twenty minutes ago. For all appearances, only staff remained inside. Even so, I waited another fifteen minutes before peeling myself from the safety of the trees and making my way to the building.

I didn’t go to the front entrance. The anonymous note I’d received gave instructions to look for a side door. The door was easy to find. There was nothing unusual about it. I don’t know what I was expecting other than a normal door, but given the clandestine nature of my visit, its plain wood was startlingly mundane.

The next part was hard. I was supposed to knock. My hands were not only sweaty, but trembling. I had suspicions about who might have sent me the note, but there was no way of being certain. And there was a distinct possibility this could be a trap.

Disloyalty wasn’t tolerated by the Keepers, and my reason for being here could be considered a form of treachery. My stomach clenched. Yes, I was putting myself in danger, but I worried that if I’d been lured here under false pretenses, it wouldn’t only be me who suffered.

I followed the Keepers’ laws because that was what Guardians did, but my loyalty was to my pack: the Nightshades. I’d never forgive myself if my choices hurt my friends or family. Yet another reason to abandon this quest and return to the safety of my bed.

But I knew if I left, I’d spend another sleepless night wondering what would have happened if I’d knocked. Wondering if there was a place I could be…me. It had taken me months to work up the courage to get this far.

My knuckles rapped on the wood before I realized I’d made the decision to do it.

The door opened immediately, but only a sliver.

“Bar’s closed.” A gruff voice came from the other side of the door.

I couldn’t see the speaker, but his scent told me he was human. I didn’t know what to make of that.

My voice cracked as I answered. “I’m looking for someone.”

That was what the note told me to say.

“Oh yeah?” the man replied. “Who are you looking for?”

This next part was weird, but I said it anyway. “Jack London.”

Silence stretched for what felt like an eternity, but I know was only a matter of seconds, and then the door opened further, just enough that I could slip inside.

I stepped into a narrow hallway washed in the pale yellow light of a single bulb that hung from the ceiling. The man who’d opened the door closed and locked it.

He didn’t offer his name but nodded toward the end of the hall. “Go through that door and knock on the next door you find.”

“So the door leads to another door?” I tried to joke.

The man didn’t smile, only repeated the instructions. “Go through that door. You knock on the next door.”

It wasn’t the warmest welcome, but it didn’t feel like I’d sprung a trap yet, which was a relief, though I was well aware something awful could be waiting for me behind the next door…or the door after that. Surely the Keepers wouldn’t be running a dungeon beneath the Burnout. This bar was owned by a human and patronized mostly by humans. A handful of Guardians liked to drink here, but most chose to unwind at Keeper-owned establishments in Vail where drinks were often free for the Keepers’ loyal soldiers. Of course, each pack had claimed their own watering hole—Banes and Nightshades didn’t socialize with each other.

The Burnout was a rare place wolves from both packs could be found, though they didn’t mingle despite sharing the space. I’d seen this for myself because the Burnout allowed younger Guardians in…so long as our alpha accompanied us. We didn’t come often, but my pack had visited the bar a few times, just for something different to do. Though if we showed up and found any Banes already there, my pack leader, Calla, made us leave. She didn’t want to risk a fight, which was probably the right call, but the rest of us bristled with annoyance. We didn’t like ceding territory to our rivals.