8. Mike

EIGHT

Mike headed to his car to retrieve his clothing. He didn"t start scolding himself until he pulled his phone out from the glove compartment and noticed six missed calls and seven text messages.

"Fuck," he grunted.

They were all, of course, from Tristan or Barbara. Technically, he was off the clock as far as Vegas went, but when it came to acting as an enforcer for the Wolfe pack, he was never really off duty. How could he let Beatriz, as enchanting as she was, distract him from his obligations?

Mike was trusted deeply by the Wolfes and for a very specific reason. He was untethered romantically, not a playboy, and was as dependable as they came. He felt like he had let them down immensely, so he hurriedly dressed, hopped into the car, and drove as fast as was reasonable to the main estate.

Mike knocked on the door, which wasn"t what he usually did. In the past, before he was shipped off to Vegas to care for the new pack, he was welcome to walk in of his own free will, given that the hour was appropriate, of course. But that afternoon, he anticipated not being as welcomed as he generally could be.

But the general ambiance was calm and collected, just as it always was. One of the housekeepers let Mike in and led him to the main gathering room with a tall window that looked over the sweeping view of Blue Creek Forest.

Tristan was waiting for him at the window, gazing over the vast landscape. It was just past noon, a burning, tangerine ball cresting at the top of an azure sky. Mike approached the mighty patriarch with caution as smooth jazz played on a record player, something easy-flowing that you'd encounter in a snazzy cafe.

He tried to approach the alpha with caution and a sense of reverence.

"You"ve been busy," Tristan said, still facing the window.

"I'm deeply sorry, Tristan," Mike said. "I got distracted, but it will never happen again."

Tristan turned from the window to face him, his hands remaining tangled behind his back. He was the definition of an old-school alpha with tanned skin, sable black eyes, and sleek hair pulled back into a neat ponytail.

By human standards, he appeared to be in his early sixties. He was far older than that, of course, but it was discourteous to inquire about such matters.The deeply embedded grooves along his skin were sufficient enough to imply a long and vigorous life.

His expression remained neutral as he motioned toward the couch that faced a roaring fire.

"Sit down, Mike, please."

He did as he was asked. Just as Tristan came over to stand in front of him, Mike caught the scent of lemon and ginger lingering in the air. A few seconds later, Barbara walked in, holding a tray of teacups and cookies.

"Mike!" she exclaimed, the steam from the lemon ginger tea casting a washing fog over her bright countenance.

She placed the tray on the coffee table between Mike and Tristan. They exchanged a look that only a long-bonded couple could comprehend.

The matriarch then gazed back at Mike, her blue eyes startlingly bright.

"I forgot to tell you last night how grateful we are for your help in Vegas. I know it was longer than we anticipated, but it meant everything to us. I hope you know that."

Mike nodded respectfully while Barbara gave her husband yet another telling look. Tristan bowed his head, his voice the usual soft and placid timbre the shifter was used to.

"Yes, we are very thankful, Mike. Oh, also, how lovely is that young lady, Beatriz?"

Mike felt his cheeks run hot. Even the mention of her name stirred the passion inside him. He shifted in his seat, making sure his crotch wasn't in plain view for the patriarch and matriarch to detect.

"She seems very kind," he said.

"Oh, she's more than that," Barbara said, laughing. "You should see how she handles the triplets. With ease, no matter how rambunctious they get. She's shown such loyalty to us."

The discussion about Vegas and Beatriz seemed to have diffused the tension in the room. Mike was thankful for Barbara, who, more than anyone, knew how to calm her mate's terminal resolve. He didn't want to imagine what his alpha's fury looked like. He'd heard rumors, of course, comparing his anger to that of a dragon of sorts emerging from the solitude of its cave.

Mike made a promise to himself and Tristan that it would never happen again. That was after Barbara had taken a mug of tea for herself and then swiftly left the room.

Tristan sat in the bat-winged chair opposite Mike, waving his head with an exhausted sigh.

"Don't worry about it. Barbara is right. You have already proven yourself to be trustworthy. Let's let bygones be bygones and look toward the future."

Mike's muscles softened, a wash of relief moving through him while the alpha went on.

"What I wanted to speak to you about was this situation with the drugs floating around. What do you know about it?"

"Aric told me some last night, but nothing too in-depth."

Tristan nodded, the tired impression on his face enhancing.

"He likely didn't tell you everything. We've been holding back telling Caleb and Nate everything intentionally. Caleb needs to focus on repairing his pack and having a new baby. Nate has enough to deal with, what with the triplets and running three clubs. I wanted to be alone with you and tell you everything in detail."

Mike frowned, then leaned forward on the couch.

"What's going on?"

Tristan adjusted his position in the armchair. "We need to figure out where these drugs are coming from, and because we trust you, we asked you back here. What I'm going to tell you right now cannot leave this room. Do you understand?"

"Understood."

The words that came out of Tristan's mouth seemed to take on a life of their own. The more he said, the more weary he grew. That greatly disturbed Mike.

"These drugs are making their way through the lower ranks. Whoever is selling them is targeting wolves who think they need to get bigger physically or feel stronger. Essentially, the vulnerable and the desperate."

Mike listened, the steam from the tea rising into the air and dissipating steadily.

Tristan went on, rubbing his face hard enough to generate a rosy hue.

"I may have gone too easy on some of these boys when it first popped up on our radar. My heart isn't entirely made of stone, despite what some may think. This one boy in particular, Alex Sullivan … I had to kick him out of the pack. His behavior was far too disruptive. But I let him stay in town because, well, the boy was troubled."

Mike knew it was a grave admission to reveal that he, as alpha, had allowed a banished member of the pack to stay within the community. That was intensely frowned upon. But he sat quietly, noticing how distressed his leader was growing.

"I knew I would be judged, but I wanted to give him a chance. I'd known him since he was a child. Shifters can change, you know …"

That was when Tristan's voice broke, his black moon eyes glassing over. He paused for a moment to gather himself. Mike was moved by his sensitivity.

He cleared his throat and turned with a stern conviction.

"But that didn't happen. Alex got hold of this designer drug, which made his already disruptive behavior even more erratic. I had to arrest him a few times and even tried to drain it from his system, but nothing worked. The boy was lost to the drugs. They'd taken hold like some rabid beast."

Tristan swallowed, wiping his eyes with the back of his hands. Mike felt honored to be privy to such an expression of emotion, but he was also startled by the way the situation had been unfolding.

He finished off the story with one last sentence, a shot to the heart of a man who was far less somber than he appeared.

"I had to eliminate him, Mike. There was no going back for that boy. The drugs mutated him on a cellular level. I can't let that happen again."

Mike felt the intensity of Tristan's regret down to his very bones. He looked his alpha straight in the eye and made an earnest vow.

"I will figure this out, Tristan. No one is going to fall victim to this horrible drug ever again."

Tristan thinned out his lips and closed his eyes.

"I know you will, Mike. We trust you. The whole pack does. Keep this to yourself, as I asked. That is vital."

Mike promised him, in the name of the pack, to remedy the situation as fast as he knew how.