To Miki that alley was a secondary location. No fucking way would she go in there. Reaching up she grabbed the woman’s hair—this was a woman, right?—and yanked so that they both stumbled back slamming into a parked car. The car’s alarm went off while Miki yanked the woman’s hair again. Then she did it again until she ripped hair from the heifer’s head. The woman let out a screech that would have freaked Miki out if she wasn’t busy trying not to get taken to the secondary location. Of course, the returning yelps from the alley just spurred her action.
With hair still gripped in her fist, she punched the woman in the face. Then used her steel-toe Docs to kick her in the groin. Man or woman, she knew that would hurt. As the woman dropped to the ground, Miki snatched her arm away and ran.
“What do you want, Einarr?”
“Can’t a man just come and see his cousin?”
“No. And you know Zach doesn’t want you here.” Especially after what happened last time. Wolf blood still stained the walls from that little get-together.
“A lackey for that Irish Wolfhound. How do you look at yourself in the mirror?”
Conall rolled his eyes. They’d been having this conversation for over ten years. It was a boring conversation just as Einarr was a boring man. Truly, the only thing his cousin had inherited from their Viking ancestors was his name and his viciousness. Other than that, he wasn’t much of a Viking or a wolf. Just a petty little asshole.
“Move, Einarr.”
And to his surprise, Einarr did. Yet Conall never took his eyes off him as he left the bathroom.
Once he made it back to the main bar, he realized they were all over the place. Víga-Feilan wolves. Not good.
Conall walked up to Kelly. “Where’s Zach?”
“The office, maybe. I really don’t know.”
Conall headed off to the office before things spiraled out of control. This was why Zach was Alpha. Left up to Conall, he’d snap his cousin’s neck as human and start a Pack-Pack war just before being shipped off to prison. Probably not a good idea. At least for the moment, it wasn’t a good idea.
Miki slammed her way back into the club, to the backstairs, and right into the arms of one of the wolves guarding the door.
“Hey. Hey. Are you okay?”
Miki looked behind her. She didn’t see anyone following her. She took in huge gulps of air and tried to calm herself down.
“I better get Sara.”
Miki grabbed his arm. “Don’t you dare!”
She had enough problems. Involve Sara and all hell would break loose. “I’m fine. Really.”
“You’re bleeding, honey.”
Miki glanced down at her forearm. There were four deep gashes across it. Great. Paw marks.
“I’ll take care of it. I’ll be fine.” She headed up the stairs, stopping at the bar to get her leather jacket from behind it. She slipped it on and headed to the bathroom. Thankfully, she didn’t see Conall or Sara. She could only imagine how the two of them would blow this out of proportion.
She went in search of the women’s bathroom, finding it pretty easily. How could she miss it? It was actually marked “Bitches”. She went in as some females came out. She went to the sink and caught her reflection in the mirror. Except for being a little sweaty, she still looked in control. Good. She slid the jacket off one arm and ran her forearm under the cold water, wincing from the pain, but thankful the cuts weren’t too deep.
She took paper towels and carefully wiped the damaged area. So intent on what she was doing, it took her several minutes to realize that a woman stood behind her—and stared.
Watching her reflection in the mirror, Miki marveled at how much the woman seriously resembled Conall. Funny, he never mentioned a sister. But she kept staring and smirking without saying anything. And Miki was in a considerably foul mood.
“What?” Miki snapped.
“Just trying to figure out what my cousin’s doing with a little midget like you.”
“Maybe you should ask him that. And calling someone a ‘little midget’ is redundant. Midget implies little.” The woman stared at her and Miki couldn’t resist. “I’m sorry, should I speak slower? Perhaps sound words out for you?”
The woman growled as Miki slipped her jacket back on. And, being Miki, she simply couldn’t leave it alone. “You know there’s no shame in having special needs.” She leaned in and whispered conspiratorially, “The short bus can be fun.”
With that last shot, she walked out the door, but the woman clamped her hand around her already wounded arm. Miki let out a pained bark, but it only lasted a second. Because suddenly Conall was there, lifting the woman up and slamming her against the far wall.
“I should tear your throat out.”
“You don’t have the guts, cousin.”
Conall growled, his canines extending to deadly points.
Then he heard a snarl and felt hands slide under his arms and loop around the back of his neck. “Let her go or I’ll snap your neck.”
Einarr. But Conall was too pissed to let his cousin go. She’d hurt Miki. That was all the wolf in him knew. That was all he needed to know.
“Fuck you.”
Einarr’s grip tightened as Conall distantly heard glass breaking. Then he felt Einarr stiffen.
“Let him go or I cut ‘em off.”
The three Víga-Feilans looked down. Miki crouched low behind Einarr, a broken bottle shoved between his legs and up against his groin.
“What the fuck?” Einarr wasn’t used to women facing off against him. He was big and imposing and used that to his advantage. Clearly, however, Miki didn’t care.
“Let him go.”
“Get the fuck away from me…hey! Cut that shit out!” Conall would have laughed at his cousin’s obvious discomfort if the man hadn’t tightened his grip on his throat.
“Miki. Go,” Conall ordered.
“No way.” She looked around Einarr’s legs at Conall. “I’m having way too much fun.” She glanced up at Einarr. “You ever seen a horse castrated? I have.”
He could smell Einarr’s fear and panic. And he loved it. But he wanted Miki safe.
“Hey, Conall. What’s going on?” His Alphas. He loved how Sara always seemed so calm. So in control. Seconds before she started to really hurt someone.
“Just a little disagreement.”
“Really?” Sara crouched down next to Miki. “Whatcha doin’?”
“Playing let’s turn the stallion into a gelding. Of course, in his case I guess it’s really turning a dog into a bitch.” Conall heard Einarr grunt and knew Miki was having way too much fun with that broken bottle.
“You know, Mik. We can take it from here.”
“He’s not your Pack, right?”
“Nope.”
“Then as a Texan I have no choice but to help out in thanks for your kind hospitality. So until he gets his hands off Conall…his balls are mine.”
Sara stood up. “You heard her.” She leaned in. “And if I were you, I’d do it. She helped on a ranch for two years when she was twelve. The girl is not afraid to get bloody.”
Einarr’s hands released Conall.
“Good boy.” He could hear the condescension in Miki’s voice. “Now sit pretty!”
Sara slapped her hand over Miki’s mouth and shoved her back with the rest of the Pack. It amazed him Miki had lived this long.
Sara’s hand rested on his shoulder. Heard her cool, calm voice in his ear. “Who’s this?”
He tried to rein in the beast. If he let it loose now, he’d kill the bitch in front of him. Sara probably smelled that. She knew her Pack well.