I am good at this and I love the thrill of the hunt that chasing leads offered. The blood and gore that went with being a werewolf may never be something that I am fully comfortable with, but the hunt itself that was something different all together, for me.
Hunting with Clay….that I have mixed feeling about. On one hand we work well together as a team, I could always trust Clay to have my back, but I could also trust that he would bring out my animalistic nature at the same time.
As I scanned the room again, an impatient growl escaped my throat. "There is no way he would come back here. Not when he knows you are looking for him."
We sat in a bar that Jack McMillan frequents according to the receipts we found in his apartment. During the search I also found a few other leads, but this run down bar had seemed like the best bet to find him.
That was hours ago though. When we arrived I was only able to pick up an old trace of Jack here. It had been days old, just like sent at his apartment. I was convinced that Jack had fled.
"True as that may be, darlin, Jack McMillan has never been the brains of any outfit for a reason. There is no way that he would let the threat of the boogie man scare him off from a place that he feels is his turf" Clay said.
From the way Clay's eyes darted around the room and the hunch in his shoulders, I knew Clay was just as frustrated as I was. We were both ready to be out of here.
"You're confident of that? How could you possibly be so sure?" I turned a sly smile his way, if I can't give chase to my query I could at least entertain myself needling Clay.
Clay narrowed his eyes and gave me the slightest baring of his teeth in challenge. "I know animals. Jack felt like a bid dog getting the better of me in that parking lot, no matter how under handed the attack had been. But he was brought low because human nurse was able to hurt him, then I got the drop on him in the alley." Clay leaned back in his chair taking up more space and displaying the confidence he felt in his words. "Jack will need to prove to himself that he is a big and bad as he thinks he is. To do that he needs to be in a place he feels comfortable. This is that place."
Well, Clay killed that game.
"If Jack is aligned with Arnold there is no way he would be allowed to be that stupid" Arnold had always been smart enough to know how to remain a low enough priority that the pack does not have to chase him down. Sure he's into illegal stuff, most mutts are, but there are always more dangerous mutt we need to deal with first.
"If Arnold has started leading around a few pups that he is related to, his control of them won't be the same as it is with an Alpha. He can do little more then issue commands and hope that he has scared them enough that they follow."
"So why are we sitting around here" I gestured to the bar that I had now lost all patients with "instead of nailing Arnold's ass to the wall and getting answers." I heard the growl in my voice as my grasp on the wolf within slips a little.
"Because we need to know how far this goes. Jack is involved with out a doubt, he is mentally weaker then Arnold, and therefore the better prey to hunt down for answers."
With that I pushed myself out of my seat, went to the bar and ordered another pitcher of beer. More for the excuse of something to do something rather then a need for more drink. Given our increased metabolism, nursing a pitcher of beer or even four isn't enough to dampen our senses, and we needed to avoid drawing attention to ourselves. Moving to the bar also gave me the chance to catch the sent of some of the patrons for any traces of Jack.
I took deep breaths and sorted through all the smells I picked up in the bar. Most of the scents were unpleasant, they usually are in a place like this. Then I catch a fresh trace of eau de Jack McMillan, on my way back to Clay. It was came from two large, and obviously human, men. They had their heads bowed toward one another and their shoulders were hunched in what seemed like an intense conversation.
In an attempt to gather some more information I walked by their table and tried to pick up some pieces of the low conversation between the two men.
"….such a dick man. I get that our take was lower then he expected, but we still delivered. We always deliver." This was the bald man in the pair, whom I now dubbed Baldy. Clever I know.
"Thats the way these guys operate. They don't mess around. If we want to have a place in this operation we make damn sure we deliver what we say we will…." The rest of their conversation was snatched away by the sounds in the bar.
When I sat down with Clay again I told him what I discovered. "I also picked up a good amount of blood and fear from both of them."
"What does your gut tell you darlin, did jack lay the hurt on them"
"On them….no. If Jack was in the mood you think he was, these two would not be hanging out in here. They would be in a hospital….or a ditch, not drinking crappy beer in this even crappier bar."
"So, why do they smell like Jack?"
Clay was on high alert now, reassessing the bar for any threats. "Transference. They may not have been the target of Jack's rage, but if they were there when Jack made an example out of one of their group members it could explain the fear, blood, and smell of Jack."
Clay nods "We don't know for sure Jack is related to the operation they were discussing. But they could lead us to where Jack is now."
With that we had our next lead.