“So cheat.” She grinned. “You haven’t even heard the terms yet. If you win, I’ll let you buy me a pretty dress and take me out for a fancy dinner.”
“And if I lose?”
“I get a cheap bar, beer and hot wings, and dirty sex in the bathroom.”
Julio cleared his throat, took the gun from her and winked. “Like I said, sucker bet.”
“Uh-huh.” As she stepped behind him, she trailed her fingers up his arm. “I’m bad news, mister. I hope you can handle me.”
“I’ll try.” He lined up a shot, squeezed the trigger and snorted when the bullet went wide. “I told you I suck at this.”
She laughed and retrieved the gun to line up her shot with adorable concentration that furrowed her brows. Her shot wasn’t perfect, but it winged the target, and her victory dance was just as cute as it had been in his vision.
Chapter Ten
The first time they’d snuck into Panama City Beach, Julio had been traveling as a wolf on a vacation, and she’d been an anonymous friend. Her jean shorts and sports jersey had been enough.
The second time they’d be arriving as representatives of the Southeast council, and Sera put aside her pride somewhere around Tallahassee and asked Julio to take her shopping.
Not that new clothes would make up for the fact that she was a coyote, but it was one less thing they could sneer about. When facing wolves, sometimes all you could do was minimize your disadvantages and smile a lot.
Sydney met them on the edge of town with a smile and an invitation to skip the hotel and stay as guests of the pack. “At least we’ll get to run,” Sera pointed out as Julio guided Jackson’s car up the twisting driveway that led to Sydney’s house. “This is sort of weird, though. I guess I never think of the wolves in New Orleans as a pack because the only thing they all have in common is that they listen to Alec.”
“Regional custom?” Julio shrugged. “I heard of one pack in northern California that actually lives as wolves as much as they can. Guess it takes all kinds.”
“Yeah, I love my coyote, but maybe not that much.”
“No kidding.” He reached across the seat and laid his hand on her knee. “If anyone makes you feel uncomfortable or acts like a jerk—” Sera dropped her hand to cover his. “If we’re going to do this, you can’t protect me from anything but the worst offenses. If you smack down everyone who doesn’t approve, you’ll run out of wolves.”
“I can’t smack them, but I can glare and growl.”
And cause tension and problems when he needed allies. “It’s just words. Trust me to be tougher than that. All I need to know is that you won’t let anyone touch me. And I do know that.”
He sighed. “You don’t have to suffer on my account, okay? I don’t want you to.”
“That’s the point. It’s not suffering.” She squeezed his hand before lifting it so she could kiss his knuckles. “I work in a customer-service industry. I get more creative verbal abuse during a busy shift than most wolves could come up with in a year. As long as I don’t have to be friends with them, I don’t care.”
“All right.” His tension didn’t ease. “Maybe we’ll get lucky and Sydney won’t tolerate that bullshit in his pack anyway.”
No, he probably wouldn’t, which made the evening all the more nerve-wracking. If they couldn’t handle the friendly alpha of a small pack, their relationship would be dead before it had a chance to live. “We’re about to find out.”
Julio rounded the last bend in the driveway, and a modest brick house came into view. “I guess this is it.”
It looked worn and welcoming, a smaller version of Alec’s house in Louisiana. Some of the tension knotting her shoulders eased. She might have to face dubious werewolves, but at least they wouldn’t be the rich, snobby sort.
Not like Julio’s family.
Sydney parked his truck and made a beeline for Sera’s door as Julio pulled to a stop behind him. She squeezed Julio’s hand again and lowered her voice. “Are you going to make it?”
“Don’t worry about me.” He opened his own door and climbed out.
A woman had come outside, and she approached the car as Sydney helped Sera from her seat. “Are these our guests, Syd?”
“Julio Mendoza from the Southeast council,” Sydney supplied, steering Sera around the car.
“Meet Patty, the woman who has the unenviable task of keeping me honest.”
“Most of the time, I do a poor job.” The woman smiled as she shook Julio’s hand, then Sera’s. “We’re having barbecue. Nothing fancy, but there’s plenty to go around.”
“Barbecue sounds perfect.” Sera used her best friendly smile—and her best manners. “I’m Sera. And thank you so much for inviting us to stay with you. It will be nice to have a chance to run tonight.”
“We run almost every night.” Patty turned and beckoned them to follow. “Everyone’s out back. Come on.”
Sydney fell into step next to Patty and led them through the house. “Not everyone’s here, of course. Plenty work night shifts in town. We own the bar, a strip motel and a couple of restaurants. Keeps money coming in.”
“Like a co-op,” Julio observed.
“Pretty much. Money comes in, whether they work for us or someplace else.” They passed through a comfortable-looking living room that showed signs of being hastily tidied, and Sydney pulled open a sliding glass door. “Well, for a long time, money was going out as fast as it came in. Cesar raised tithes twice in three years.”
“Yeah, I bet he did.” Julio walked out into the back yard and accepted the can of beer someone handed him. “Hear anything else from him lately?”
Sera watched as Sydney studied Julio, and recognized the tension of a man taking a careful step toward trust. “His brother called a month ago and said he’d be around to collect this quarter’s tithes.”
Julio froze and turned to him. “Alec said everyone should funnel this quarter’s money directly back into the pack.”
“Which is what I told Diego. He didn’t press the matter.”
Too late, Sera made the connection. Cesar’s brother…Julio’s father. Her heart ached for him, but there was nothing she could say. Not in front of strangers. “If you need to talk to Sydney, maybe Patty could show me around.”
“No, stay.” His hand closed around hers. “The next time either one of them shows up, Sydney, I think Alec and I would take it as a personal favor if you’d let us know.”
“I’ll do that.” Sydney waved a hand toward a scattering of picnic tables that had been shoved together in two long lines. “This is no way to start a party, though. You two take a seat. Sera, honey, pick your poison. Beer, sweet tea, something stronger?”
“Beer’s fine.”
Sydney gestured, and a shy teenager who’d been staring at her snatched a bottle out of a cooler full of ice and trotted over. The boy gave Julio a nervous look before offering Sera her drink. “You’re really a coyote.”
Sometimes the spite was easier. Loathing and hatred were simple. The fawning awe made her feel freakish too, but it felt bitchy to snarl when the kid was trying to be friendly. And he was a kid, so she managed a smile. “So I’ve heard.”
“Where are you from?”
“I grew up in Louisiana. Not far outside New Orleans.” She tried to judge the boy’s age.
Fifteen, maybe, a gawkish age for any shapeshifter, with instincts and hormones doing serious battle. “How about you? Do you live around here?”
He pointed toward a line of trees, through which she caught a glimpse of silver. “In the RV camp. Most of the pack lives there.”