Most Eligible Wolf by Julie Steimle (the best e book reader txt) 📖

her expression softened into a show of sweetness. “We would, but Rick is going to pass by this way, and we really need to talk to him.”

Audry didn’t want a fight, but she didn’t want those folk around her booth anymore. “But if his father doesn’t want you taking to him, I don’t think he should.”

“He’s a grown man,” Daisy laughed, clearly determined not to leave.

Normally Audry would have confronted her. Done something.

Normally.

But these people felt savagely dangerous—enough to actually, physically harm them—and her tranquilizer gun was in her car and her tazer was not allowed in the convention center. She was also outnumbered as this lady’s ‘pack’ was returning. The worst part was, Audry got the feeling that they really were not going to leave until Rick showed up. Though she had hoped to avoid Rick, now she hoped Rick and one of his cop friends would show up and deal with her. She hoped it would be Jessica. With a tazer.

They lingered.

Doing His Duty

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Three

 

 

Another convention. Another panel—done. H. Richard Deacon III was not fond of these conventions. And though he had finally found a foolproof way to deal with the hunters that frequented these gatherings in attempts to harass him, he was still annoyed by the publicity he received, as most people only liked to report scandalous things. And rumors around the convention center were going from mouth to ear like a plague. Someone somewhere had spread a rumor that he had gotten a girl pregnant, and he had to refute it.

“Nobody is carrying my lovechild,” Rick explained for the thousandth time to the independent reporters on the scene. No one was carrying his lovechild currently anyway. Daisy had miscarried four years ago, and he had not made such a stupid mistake as getting someone pregnant since. Of course, he hadn’t really even dated since.

His friend Randon Spade met him at the edge of the stage after the last question. The midnight-haired, blue-eyed friend from Gulinger High grinned like the Cheshire cat at him as he said, “Like you would get a girl pregnant. Wolf boy, you need a girlfriend first.”

Girlfriend. Rick sighed over that. Having a girlfriend was complicated. And all his best options were gone. Werewolves just couldn’t date anyone. As for the rest, Rick had never told Randon about Daisy or Wolverton. Only a select few of his friends knew about his lapse in judgement and loss of self-control, and only one of them had gone to Gulinger High with him. It wasn’t Randon. His friends who did know quietly kept it hushed. It was a piece of the past he wanted to leave behind as it had brought so much chaos to his life, and he never wanted to be that out of control again.

Currently, he was at the conference center to help Randon in his future job hunting. Randon needed to make connections as a soon-to-be licensed veterinarian, and Rick knew a few people. Besides, Rick knew that he was one of the best living recommendations Randon could get. But on top of that, Rick was also at the convention to scout out any possible connections he could make with his family’s wolf reserves. They had recently purchased failing farmland, working on re-greening them for wildlife to move in. They were also attempting to mix those places with alternative energy sources so it could do a double duty and give nearby small towns independent funding to maintain their autonomy with smaller farms. They liked to hire locally.

 After all that, he and Randon were going to have lunch with Tom Brown and Matthew Calamori—and possibly their friend Troy Meacham whom they had not seen in a long while.

“So, do you think Troy will come?” Rick asked his friend.

Randon nodded. “Sure. He and I keep in contact all the time.”

“What’s he up to these days?” Rick asked as they walked along several booths together.

The hunters watching them not far off were keeping their distance. They had their hands over their noses, cringing. No one else seemed to act that way though. It was perfect. Something that, surprisingly, none other than Silvia Lewis had concocted. Admittedly, Silvia was a brilliant witch. And though she had left her coven, she most definitely had not sworn off witchcraft. However, she had given Rick this one gift as a thank you for paying for her rent so she and a friend could move in together without any trouble. She had based it off of a voodoo sachet Rick and Randon’s friend Bobo had once given Rick. Only hunters could smell it. And it reeked to their noses so much that their eyes watered. They couldn’t stand getting near him, and it made it so easy to identify them.

“Troy?” Randon laughed. “Troy was current studying all sorts of medicine. I think he started with modern homeopathy but has now gone into ancient folk remedies from recorded legends. He was currently working on a Master’s thesis about the mythical confusion of vampires, witches, and werewolves in folklore combined with real biological conditions the modern world is using to justify the belief in such things. All while he is still looking for a cure for vampire bite.”

Rick chuckled thing about all that. “I would not expect him to quit that search. That is the purpose of his research, isn’t it?”

Randon nodded with a glance at a number of go-green booths. “Troy’s professors think he’s a little nuts, but have yet not been able to prove it.”

Listeners-in thought their conversation weird. Neither Randon nor this Troy was famous. They didn’t quite fit into their world paradigm for Rick Deacon.

“Does he tell them about his vampire bite?” Rick asked, raising his eyebrows.

Shaking his head, now looking at the booth on a debate over animal fur versus the damage faux fur is causing to the environment—specifically about the particulate matter in the air, Randon replied, “No. Of course not. Are you kidding? I think he is telling them something about hemophilia or some other blood clotting disorder, and saying that he wants to see if all ancient remedies were in fact hokum.”

“Of course they are going to say they are,” Rick said, peering at the faux fur and then at the real fur. He scrunched up his nose, frowning. His mind went to that vegan, Audry Bruchenhaus, wondering what she would argue on this whole fur debate. As a wolf, the idea of being skinned didn’t appeal to him. But if faux fur was causing environmental problems, he would have to find out for sure, as one of their factories made faux fur for winter coats. He collected a pamphlet from the booth.

Randon picked up one as well, skimming it. “Well, it’s not like they are going to believe in magic.”

Those in the booth exchanged looks, wondering if the pair was talking about a novel they were reading.

“Which reminds me.” Rick looked to Randon. “How has the court case against your mother and sister gone?”

Listeners-in, strained to hear more.

Cringing, Randon shook his head. “Not good. I mean, yeah they have been convicted of child abuse—after I testified with my dad and all the evidence was put forward. But they played the ‘persecuted religion’ card and the ‘patriarchy’ card and got a lighter sentence. They are going to be free in a decade. And for that matter, they’re probably going to continue their witchcraft inside the prison. They’re gonna hunt me down. And Dad. I know it.”

Closing his eyes, clenching his teeth, Rick shook his head. “Do you want a bodyguard?”

“How about just Bobo’s sachet?” Randon asked. “Do you still got that?”

Thinking on it, Rick said, “How about we just ask Bobo for another one? I think I lost the one from high school. Peter had borrowed it and I think Jessica took it from there. I had it back, but… I haven’t seen it since.”

“How is Bobo, by the way?” Randon asked. “Do you keep in touch with him? I mean you pretty much keep in touch with everybody, don’t you? After all, Chen is now in China because of you.”

 Smirking, Rick shook his head. But as he glanced one way, he thought he saw Kurt Blithe in the crowd. The Kurt lookalike was a few rows away near a booth about essential oils, but Rick couldn’t tell for certain if it was him as it was unlikely Kurt would even be in New York. Rick tried to peer between the booths, but someone got in the way.

And the Kurt lookalike rushed off as if something had startled him.

“What?” Randon asked, peering that way. Nothing unusual caught his eye.

Rick didn’t want to say anything yet. He didn’t want Randon to know about Wolverton unless absolutely necessary. “Nothing. I just… thought I saw somebody I knew from somewhere else. But he wouldn’t be here.”

Lifting his eyebrows, Randon chuckled. “Someone we know.”

“Just me,” Rick said. He frowned. He had liked Kurt. Kurt was one of the few in Wolverton who was more honest with him. He especially liked Kurt’s mother. She was a good woman who had tried to help him. Rick wondered what she was doing right then. That poor woman was stuck with a lousy husband in that pack of werewolves. She wasn’t a werewolf herself, though her three kids were. Kurt was her eldest. He would be about… nineteen now? Twenty possibly? He had been about fifteen when Rick knew him. Had it been four years? It felt like longer.

They continued on their way.

Randon sighed, thinking on what they had to do next. “Do you still have that panel this afternoon?”

“Nope,” Rick said brightly. “I don’t have to do anything until tomorrow. They moved it.”

“But that means you will need someone here to watch your back for two days instead of one,” Randon said. “And I don’t have another day off.”

“I know.” But Rick smiled. “Tom is going to hang out with me and watch my back.”

But then Rick stiffened. He thought he saw Luko Hunter—another guy from Wolverton. Unlike Kurt, Rick never really knew Luko. Luko was just one of the pack. But that guy was just as quickly gone.

“Ok,” Randon said. “Now I know that look. Something is freaking you out.”

Rubbing his eyes, Rick proceeded with caution.

“What is it? A hunter?”

Rick shook his head wordlessly.

“A witch?”

Rick shook his head again.

Randon heaved a sigh. “I can’t help you if you don’t tell me.”

“A mirage,” Rick murmured. He closed his eyes and leaned against a near wall. What if those from Wolverton were there? It wasn’t likely they would wander from their pack. At least, not the other wolves. Kurt had talked about wanting to explore outside of the pack; Rick just didn’t believe the pack elders would have let him.

“You know, you mare making me want to call Matt to get the truth out of you,” Randon said, irritation growing in his voice. “Rick, what did you see?”

“Another guy I know,” Rick murmured, still trying to figure it out.

“And?” Randon rolled his hand for more.

“And he normally would not be here either,” Rick said.

“And why?” Randon asked, sounding impatient.

Closing his eyes, Rick finally said, “What if I were to tell you that there are reasons I don’t tell you everything?”

Randon gazed at him for a full minute,