The Wild Hunt

Part 7, Uninvited Guest

The next week passed quickly. We finished clearing out Dalton's stuff, some of the Pack took things they wanted, then the rest went into the trash. Then we moved on to helping Scout deal with Jimmy's stuff, though we didn't throw any of that away. He had left the night of the fight and hadn't yet come back, but Michael said we should keep it safe for a while, in case he was just taking some time to cool off. In between all of the tidying, we worked the bar as usual, though me and Scout weren't Prospects anymore, we technically were not required to. If I was honest, I liked the work, though I did use some of the Money Michael had given me to pick up some fresh paint and a high-end Airbrush. In my downtime I painted the Wild Hunt brand onto my tank, followed by Scout's and Bonnie's. Kelly had me do the same thing and Michael had me paint a mural in the Den. After that I had Pack members coming to me with plans of their own, all willing to pay of course. It was on the 8th day that things changed, the day the Stranger rolled into town.

Michael had been sending out small groups to patrol the towns borders, just as Scout and me had when we first met Bonnie. Each day they returned with nothing, until one day they did. On the outskirts of the town, the caught the scent of an unfamiliar Wolf. The tracked it to what they described as an old school muscle car, parked up outside Mary's Diner. Michael was ready as soon as they called. He set most of the pack to guard the area then asked a hand full of us to follow, myself and Scout included. Bonnie had asked to tag along, but he simply smiled and said.

"You stay here, if something happens to us, then the rest of these mutt's will need a strong head to guide them."

It was obvious he was thinking more of her inexperience, and keeping her out of a fight for as long as he could. Michael was good like that. He took peoples nature into consideration before making any decision, and though Bonnie was strong and confident, she was also gentle, we had seen as much since she had arrived.

We Roared out of the trailer lot in rows of two, Michael and Kelly Rode up Front, while Lippy, (an older wolf named because he was always biting his lower lip, even as a wolf, his real name was John.) and Twitch, (a wolf closer to myself in age, named because he was a little jumpy and his transformation felt more like a twitch than a turn. His name coincidentally was also John) rode behind them, then Scout and me took up the rear.

It was a quick ride to Mary's, the food there was good but the proximity to the club was most likely the reason so many of the Pack ate there.

When we arrived the two riders that had tracked the stranger were sat outside on their bikes. There were few people walking around nearby, it was the middle of the day, and though it was a small sized town, it was usually quite busy.

The car they had described turned out to be a 1968, SS Camaro. It was matte black, with two small white stripes on its left front fender, a small hood scoop, Pirelli racing tires with blacked out wheel's and windows.

Kelly whistled when she saw it, like she was cat calling from a building site. Michael spoke to the two pack members while the rest of us waited for him. The riders were, Vix, (short for Victoria, though she would likely kill you if you used her full name.) and Mutt, (his real name was Simon, his last name was Trench, which would have been a cooler nickname, but someone told me that Dalton had started calling him Mutt, and it stuck.) I was glad not to have been landed with some sort of silly nickname, where as some of them suited the people that carried them I couldn't ever see there being one I would have liked. While they talked, Vix gestured to a single man sat at the counter inside the diner. He wore a black canvas looking coat, and had long black, greasy hair, that was curled down to his shoulders.

Even from outside I could smell the familiar scent of a wolf, though his seemed to carry the dust and dirt of a large city with it.

Michael tapped his ears as he walked in, suggesting we should listen in but keep or guards up. when he reached the counter he sat one seat away from the wolf.