edges of his paranoia. He had Connor and he had Nathan and Eric. He had the faith that his brothers would have his back, even if things went completely sideways.
The lounge was mostly empty, although it was getting on toward evening. There was just one other patron in the booth next to Cody’s. He was an older bear shifter and he had the look of a grizzled type who had seen more than brawl in his life. He had graying hair that touched his shoulders and though he was clean-shaven it did nothing to dull the rough edges of him like the scent of danger that somehow lingered and punched through the designer cologne he was wearing. He was wearing a nice suit too that Cody recognized from one of the shops on the promenade. But it didn’t hide his scarred hands and only seemed to make his cold but sharp eyes stand out as his gaze flicked around the lounge only to settle on Cody again and again as if he could not stop watching him.
Cody did not at all like the look of the guy. Everything about him said danger. But he attempted to ignore him, staring into his drink. He was probably being paranoid, considering everything that was going on. He was still too tense and on the verge of a fight if pushed just an inch. Except that it was the sleuth he wanted to fight; those bastards who had the nerve to abuse and neglect their children and then show up with elders to demand them back.
Cody grimaced, licking his teeth, and rained his highball glass.
It was all complete bullshit.
“Hey.” It was the guy in the other booth. He was staring at Cody and leering like he knew exactly who Cody was. “Hey hey. Cody Strauss.”
Cody immediately clenched his fist, his ears perking up. He immediately had the feeling that something bad was about to go down. He’d had the same feeling before fights. If he’d been in his bear form, his fur would have been standing on end. Even now, he could feel it over his skin like a phantom limb.
“Do I know you?” Cody tried not to sound threatening. The guy was smiling in a way that was not promising peace. But Cody would give him the benefit of the doubt for as long as he could. He couldn’t afford to do otherwise with the sleuth and the elders breathing down his neck and his mate and the cubs to protect.
“You don’t know me,” the guy said smoothly. He was a few feet away, talking over the short wall between the booths. There was more than one empty glass on his table and Cody saw no sign of food. The guy was probably drunk and that was good. If something did happen, that would give Cody the edge. “But I know you. Didn’t sniff you out at first. Once I talked to Sheila and the rest of em’ then I was bored. Didn’t have much to do but wait for the go-ahead, wait for my fee.”
Cody gripped the edge of the table, as if to ground himself. He thought if he moved he might shift and climb over the booths to get the guy’s throat in his teeth. This was the tracker. It had to be. He took a deep breath through his nose. It would do no good to get into it with this guy. He had to keep his calm.
“You’re banging Jessie.” The tracker said it gleefully, as if it were the find of the century. “That meeting didn’t last long. Nobody looks happy. Saw y’all coming out. I s’pose that came up then. What’d you do? Spill the beans? Now that was stupid. All you Strausses stupid?”
“If you’re smart,” Cody said quietly, “then you will shut your mouth right now.”
Across the lounge, Cody saw a couple of the elders ordering wine.
Keep your cool, he thought. Keep your damn cool.
The bartender on shift, an older guy who Cody knew well, came over to check on him. “Cody, hey. You need anything?” He eyed Cody’s now empty glass and reared back a little as if suddenly sensing the discord. Cody and the tracker were pointedly glaring at each other and the bartender cleared his throat. Cody squirmed, attempting to break himself out of the moment. “You alright, Cody?”
“Yeah,” Cody muttered. “Just ah... I’ll have another one of these.”
It was an old malted whiskey. It was Cody’s favorite when he was in a