Isis: The E6 Breeder (Lycan Breeder Series Book No. 2)

Scene Ten

The collection of hogs, softtails, hardtails, café racers, Indians, and that one Goldwing at the end was at least ten times more expensive than the structure they sat in front of. The line of chrome and leather insulating the establishment from convenient parking by anything with four wheels. If you can't tip over at a stoplight, you have no business walking through that door.

Three human shaped bikers pushed through the entrance one at a time, doubling the mass of flesh in there even though there was already a crowd. The Naugahyde covered booth with the water damaged table sat available. Pints of "beer" were placed on the blistered veneer.

Everything in the dive bar was the same. Same smells. Same suspicious bartender. Same moldy carpet keeping them from falling through the floor. The only thing that might be different is the brown liquid on the shelf. Maybe it's tequila again. Maybe the stock was changed out to whiskey.

Tonight was a pale ale sort of night, though. Didn't have to worry about the proprietor watering it down cause what came out of the tap was more expensive than what came out of the keg.

They came here for the ambiance, not the quality. No one dared say shit about what happened inside and that was the atmosphere they valued. The carbonated piss was just a bonus.

"So let me get this straight, you smelled blood that wasn't from a rogue and you ran away?"

Ralph stared across the room. He didn't have to look at his company directly to pick up that they were stressed and honest. They weren't going to try and hide shit from him.

"Yes, Prez."

Emanuel was always the braver of the two. Made sense he would be the one to confidently deliver the bad news. In fact, his sidekick didn't even make the report after the disaster of an extraction last week.

"Does that seem like a strategic move to you?"

"Brad was making the calls that night, and the healthy one in our sights would bring in more than the dead one in the field," Emanuel reasoned. "It didn't seem like a bad choice."

"To go after a healthy fighter instead of an injured she-wolf." Is he going to have to spell this out for them every time? "They heal." He doesn't have to tell them that females bring in more profit per unit. Labs will pick up either sex, but both genders don't cross over into the breeding market.

"We didn't know he was one of the Elite Six at the time. We figured we could grab him and evaluate the abandoned she-wolf on the way out."

It's not that it was a bad plan, it's that it was a failed night. They lost one of their most aggressive recruiters and had nothing to show for it.

"So let me ask you this, why would an elite fighter, defender of the alpha and the pack, abandon an injured pack member?" The prez decided to glare at the silent Kento even though he knew Emanuel would be the one doing the talking. If only there was a sticker to peel off the beer they were drinking he would be fiddling with it right now. But labeled beer came at a cost.

It looks like the prez would be proven wrong tonight as the yet silent party spoke up.

"How do we know it was a pack member? It could have been an invading wolf he killed. That's what I thought that night."

"That could be true, but it would be too much of a coincidence. It seems more like a domestic dispute to me." Emanuel responded. OK, now we're getting somewhere.

"But not a mate. No wolf could leave a mate behind. He would rather die than be without her." The prez piped in.

"Except for the clientele at the market."

Ah there it is. Little Emanuel still not happy with how the clan makes their money.

It's a shame it would undermine the faith the rest of the clan has in him by selling off a werebear. Emanual would bring in a decent profit and the clan would have one less dissenting attitude floating around.

Maybe a private buyer could be arranged.

"Even if they were special, what does it matter?" Seems like Kento is going to speak more now that Brad isn't around to call him an idiot with everything he says. "Unless we know who they are, we can't do anything about it."

"But you can recognize her smell, right?"

The two bears nodded their response.

"Then that's a good enough reason to keep you two on the Crescent Valley missions. There was a reason why she was there in the full moon, and with the interruption to whatever they were doing there's a chance she'll be back there for the next full moon. If there's anything I know about wolves, it's that they love that moon of theirs." The prez smirked while raising the glass to his mouth. "And I can't imagine their relationship would survive that kind of betrayal. I'd say she'll be easy pickings after she dumps him. If you don't find her before, we'll nab her next month."

Taking a swig of the hops and piss in the scratched up glass, he reflected on his own culpability. He forced them to work in a group on Crescent Valley territory cause of that damn lycan. They hunt better alone, it's their nature. A group should have been able to defend themselves against Alpha Dominic or his father, but they don't know how to combine their strengths. Instead, they were three separate targets, just waiting for the kill or opportunity to retreat.

He put them in a group and still lost his best. Brad loved the hunt and pulling in shifters. Clawing them to leave his mark on their right hip as a signature. The market was flooded with his brand. Sometimes Prez would even let him keep one for himself as a reward. Usually they couldn't be sold for much after, but it was worth it to keep him invested in the culling of the packs around them.

It would be a safe bet that Brad stepped up in hopes of pulling Alpha Dominic to market. Probably fantasized about slicing his claws through his hip meat. That crazy fucker. Damn he'll be missed.

The plan to invigorate these two with that same spirit backfired. Brad was lost and now he's stuck with these wet blankets. Why are they even still here? They can't be that loyal to their brethren that they are willing to plug their nose and do this dirty work just to stay around them. They've shown no interest in stepping up to leadership either. Never once challenging him or his second-in-command.

The clan is shrinking in numbers but growing in strength. Soon, he'll be surrounded by enough of his kind that he will take these two in and get quite a price for selling the first werebears at the market.