" Seems to be."
Instead of tracking down the wanna-bes scattered to their mundane lives, Rennie had sent out word where the Dog Warriors would be camping instead. Judging by the weave of headlights, every member of the local chapter plus some had arrived.
Lambs to a slaughter.
" We won't hurt them if they tell us what we want to know." Rennie slipped through the shadows, staying hidden until the visitors' identity was fully known.
Ukiah sat up stiffly. All the bones of his left arm were once again knitted whole but not yet sound. The massive scabs covering the bullet wounds on his chest and back were hot and itchy; his body was still healing at its furious rate. His stomach knotted up, emptied during his long sleep. Surrounded by the Pack in a womb of safety, he had most likely been awakened by hunger.
Tucked beside him where it would be safe from the rain was a stack of clean clothes. By her scent and the selection—his black T-shirt, his favorite blue jeans, and his "Property of FBI" boxers—it was obvious that Indigo had been the one who raided his closet at Max's. Sitting in the lean-to, Ukiah pulled on his boxers and pants as the bikers settled around him, drawn by the fire.
Daggit had been in the lead, and he eyed Ukiah suspiciously as he killed his engine. "You here alone, puppy?"
"No," Rennie answered, drifting out of the darkness, his eyes gleaming from the reflected headlights. "He's not."
"Shaw." Daggit grunted. "So he is yours."
"Yes." Rennie paused beside Ukiah as he sat tying his boots and lightly touched the top of Ukiah's head. "This is our Cub."
"Does he have another name?"
"Not for you."
"What, you think we're going to cause trouble for him?"
"I think you're smarter than that."
Daggit understood the implied threat with a flash of fear that he shrugged away. "Whatever. Cub it is."
The bikers wandered into the campsite, loud and careless. They carried bottles of alcohol and offerings of food—they seemed to be expecting a party. Ukiah wondered what Rennie told his contact. Animal came into the light, carrying a bucket of Kentucky Fried Chicken and a bottle of expensive scotch.
While the Pack rarely drank, it made an exception for fine liquor, and the scotch qualified.
"Hey, Shaw, where have you been?" Animal shouted out with alcohol-tainted breath. "You haven't been in this area for a coon's age."
Rennie took the bucket of chicken, and flicked the lid into the fire. "We had Pack business."
"Which means we'll never know," Animal complained.
Rennie grunted at the truth of this and tilted the bucket to Ukiah. " Don't touch the sides of the bucket." A few stray flecks of Invisible Red glittered on the red-and-white container. "Eat."
Ukiah grabbed out a deep fried thigh and bit deep into the juicy dark meat.
"More," Rennie commanded. After Ukiah took a breast, Rennie selected a drumstick and passed the bucket to Bear.
Animal gazed at Ukiah with an odd look on his face. "Where did he come from? I've never seen him at a Gathering."
"Who he is," Rennie growled, "and where he came from is Pack business."
"You know, some of us have been loyal for years, waiting for our turn to be made . . ." Animal's complaint trailed off to slack-jawed drooling in a display of sexual desire that would have been cartoonish if Ukiah didn't know the strength of Invisible Red.
Ukiah glanced over his shoulder to follow Animal's gaze.
Hellena had stalked out of the woods, black leather pants clinging like a second skin, black silk camisole highlighting the shape of her breasts, long black hair spilling down over her shoulders in loose curls. She was lean, strong, and sexy.
"I-I-I've got an anniversary VRSCA V-Rod Harley." Animal pointed to his bike. "It's only a year old. I've got less than a thousand miles on it. I'll trade you."
Rennie frowned a moment, and then he too followed Animal's gaze.
" It's like being surrounded by rutting dachshunds," Hellena thought.
Rennie laughed at Hellena's silent comment, though anger flashed through him. "We don't trade our women. You should know that."
"Yeah," Animal whimpered. "But I hoped if I made the pot rich enough . . . I can throw in a pair of Desert Eagle pistols and a dozen nickel bags of Pixie Dust."
A growl rose from the Dogs. It was one of the differences between the Pack and the outlaw biker gangs that followed them; the humans treated women as objects to be traded and sold. Even if the Pack weren't morally against such debasement, there was the matter that the women of the Pack were physically equal to the men.
"Okay, okay, okay. I know 'no' when I hear it." Animal held up his hands.
Rennie tossed the bare drumstick toward the trash pit and hit it unerringly. "Where is the Temple of New Reason?"
"Those fairies?" Animal asked.
"Yes," Rennie rumbled.
"They're—"
Daggit gave Animal an angry shove to silence him. "Is it Pixie Dust that you want?" Rennie's silent snarl made Daggit try for a lighter tone. "Look, you can buy through us. We'll give you a good price."
Rennie struck Daggit with savage speed, catching him by the back of the head with a fistful of hair, and the other hand yanking him down to his knees until the leader of the Iron Horses crouched in the dirt in front of Ukiah. "Look at what the Temple has done to our Cub. They ran him down with a truck and shot him full of holes."
Daggit hissed in pain, but managed. "So it's true what they say—you can't keep a good man down."
"Where are they?" Rennie growled.
"I don't know," Daggit's voice went sharp as Rennie put pressure on his arm.
"He knows," Animal said quietly. "He won't tell you. But I can tell you everything I know."
"You don't know shit!" Daggit snarled.
"Who did they contact first? You? No, me!" Animal thumped on his chest with his index finger. "Me!"
"You don't know where they are," Daggit said.
"Yeah, but I know how to get ahold of them."
"We don't want to talk," Rennie said.
"I can set up a meeting."
"Shut up, asshole!" Daggit snapped, and hissed as Rennie tightened his hold. "You know what they're going to do to those idiots."
"I want to be Pack," Animal said. "I want to be fast and strong and cool."
"Dumb fuck," Daggit muttered and squirmed in Rennie's hold. "You don't have to fuck them over, Shaw. Your Cub is fine."
"Make me Pack, and I'll gift-wrap the bastards for you."
"Do you have any idea what you're saying?" Ukiah pulled on his shirt.
"My cholesterol is through the roof," Animal said. "I've got rheumatoid arthritis in my knees so bad I can barely sit on a bike, and all the men of my family die before they turn fifty. I figure I only have, like, ten years or so left. I'm willing to gamble."
Ukiah sensed the direction of Rennie's thoughts. " No. We can't make him a Get."
" We need to be quick and dirty," Rennie thought. " We need to find the cult before they can use that damn machine."
" No."
" Do we beat the information out of them instead? Torture them? Men can stay amazingly silent for lots of money."