With Caution

“Hey, Remi.”
    “Yeah?”
    “You okay? Here.” He handed Remi a black motorcycle jacket. “You need one, right? Yours got tore up in that fight at Chay and Keaton’s place.”
    Oh man, Jake was giving him a new biker jacket to replace the one he’d lost the night he’d become a werewolf. Well, no, not new, but it was in nice shape with thick leather, and the padded lining was still good. There was a patch on the back. Cool. Remi tried it on over his long-sleeved black shirt. He held his arms out, trying to look over his shoulder. Ah damn, it smelled like Jake. He inhaled deeply. Mmmm, Jake and leather.
    “Are you sure? I don’t want to take your jacket, Jake. It’s got your club patch on it. I mean if—”
    Jake touched his shoulder and squeezed. “Take it, I have a new one.” He presented his back to show Remi his coat. It had a patch identical to the one on the jacket Remi wore. It was square with a yellow moon and a black wolf. There were gray mountains and a starry midnight sky in the background.
    Remi blinked, not realizing his eyes had gone back to normal until right then.
    “Thanks.”
    Jake nodded. “Come on, let’s introduce you to the guys.”
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    www.samhainpublishing.com

    With Caution
    Guys? What guys? “Uh, okay.” He followed Jake into the seedy little wood-shack-looking bar with its colorful neon beer signs hanging in the windows. It was smoky as hell and loud. The smells almost knocked Remi on his ass. Shrugging it off, he tuned them out and took in the clientele. It was a good thing Jake was big, this crowd looked rougher than the ones at Remi’s normal hangouts. Remi had only been to a place like this one other time with Simon, Chay and Bobby and thanks to Simon they’d almost gotten their asses kicked. Not that that would be an issue tonight, Remi had no intention of hustling pool.
    Jake led him to the end of the bar close to the pool tables. “Men, this is Remi Lassiter.” Grabbing Remi’s shoulder, Jake pulled him forward.
    A giant unfolded himself from the barstool in front of the scarred wood bar and offered Remi a hand nearly the size of a damn dinner plate.
    Holy shit. Remi’s eyes widened.
    “Rhys Waya, we’ve met before.” The giant spoke deeply, like low rumbling thunder, without the slightest hint of a smile. Remi was sure he’d never have heard Rhys over the loud buzz of conversation and the jukebox if not for his wolf hearing.
    Rhys was huge. Well, no, he wasn’t much bigger than Jake, but something about Rhys instantly put Remi on alert. Rhys wasn’t a bad-looking man, in fact, he was rather handsome, but everything about him screamed danger. No one in their right mind would screw with this guy. He appeared to be Native American, with the typical dark coloring, but he had a neatly trimmed beard and mustache. Remi had never seen an Apache with facial hair. He was only half and couldn’t grow a mustache to save his life. Rhys had a faint vertical scar about an inch long at the outside corner of his right eyebrow. Remi had no clue why, but he immediately thought knife wound.
    Stepping back, Remi bumped right into Jake. Shit.
    Jake’s other hand landed on his shoulder, gripping a little, showing support.
    It was comforting in a weird way, but then so was having Jake at his back touching him. Not that Remi thought Rhys was going to beat the hell out of him or anything, but for some reason Remi understood meeting these men meant a lot to Jake. Rhys was www.samhainpublishing.com 79
    J.L. Langley
    important to Jake, his business partner, so Remi wanted to make a good impression.
    When Remi tried to step forward and offer his hand to Rhys, Jake held Remi in place, keeping them close together, so he had to extend his arm further than normal. “Nice to officially meet you. My friends call me Remi.”
    Giving Remi’s hand a quick squeeze, Rhys dipped his head.
    Jake turned him slightly to the right and pointed at another dark-skinned man. “This is Diego, but we all call him Dago.”
    Diego was about Remi’s size, with short dark hair. Taking Remi’s hand, he smiled brightly. He was a wolf. Remi wasn’t sure how he knew it, it damn sure wasn’t smell—
    who could smell anything over the smoke?—but he recognized Diego as pack.
    “Dago?” Wasn’t that a racial slur? “That doesn’t bother you?” Remi asked.
    Diego shook his head. “Nah, I’m part Italian. They’re just jealous because I got the best parts.”
    Remi liked the guy, he seemed