"Who let the dogs out?" Ash snarled.
Nick frowned. "What?"
"We have two members of the Katagaria moving in," he explained to Nick.
Katagaria were animals who could take human form and pass through society to procure victims or anything else they craved. Like any other wild animal, they were extremely lethal and unpredictable.
"Oh God," Nick breathed, "don't tell me they're Slayers."
"That depends on who you ask."
"What do you mean?"
"The Arcadians would call them Slayers. But to their Katagaria brethren, they're Strati."
Nick frowned. "Strati means what?"
"It's the correct term for Katagaria soldiers. Slayers kill indiscriminately anyone and anything that crosses their paths. Strati kill mostly to protect themselves, their pack, and their territory."
"So, they belong here?"
Ash shook his head as the two wolves drew closer. They slowed as they caught sight of him.
"Acheron Parthenopaeus," Vane said, stopping in front of him. "It's been a while."
Ash nodded. It'd been at least a couple of hundred years since he had last seen them. They had been on the run then from the human Arcadians who hunted their unique species through time. The two brothers had been trying to find someplace safe to hide their sister from their enemies.
Vane was the older of the two brothers; he had shoulder-length dark brown hair with reddish highlights. His feral green eyes never missed anything. Fang was about an inch taller than Vane and had short black hair and hazel eyes. Either one was dangerous when alone-together, they were damn near invincible.
"Vane. Fang," Ash said, inclining his head to each in turn. "What brings you two to New Orleans?"
Vane cast a suspicious look to Nick, then must have decided something about Nick wasn't too threatening. "We're denning."
Ash grimaced at the term, which meant the Katagaria wolves had a pack here, and were planning on settling in New Orleans for a while. "That's a real bad idea. It's Mardi Gras and we have a lot of Daimons who tend to party then. You need to take your pack-"
"We can't," Vane said, cutting him off. "We have six females in our group about to give birth."
"And another one who gave birth this morning," Fang added. "You know our laws. We're stuck here until the pups are old enough to travel."
This was getting better and better. Pregnant Katagaria were Daimon magnets due to the strength of their souls and the psychic powers their breed carried. Not to mention the fact that New Orleans was home to three groups of Arcadians who would love nothing more than to claim the skins of Vane and Fang.
"You do know there are three groups of Arcadian Sentinels here?" Ash asked.
Vane's eyes darkened threateningly. "Then you'd best tell them to back off. We have young, and if I catch them anywhere near our den, I will rip them to pieces."
Ash took a deep breath and would have laughed at the absurdity of what he faced had he not felt ill. This just wasn't his day.
He had a horny, pissed-off goddess to contend with. A Celt who was MIA. A Roman general in a city with three men who wanted to disembowel him. An uncontrollable Dark-Hunter the police wanted for murder. And now a Katagaria wolf pack that was popping out seven litters of pups right in the heart of their enemies.
Yes, it was good to be in charge...
Nick sniffed the air and looked around. "What is that? Do I smell gumbo?"
Vane and Fang stiffened as Nick moved closer to them.
In spite of the fact that Vane was growling under his breath, Nick pulled back a corner of Vane's coat to display a bright pink box that he had hidden in his left hand.
"What is that?" Nick asked.
"Gumbo," Vane said, his voice low and gravelly.
"Since when do werewolves eat gumbo?"
Ash cringed at Nick's question.
Fang lunged at Nick, but Ash caught him and forced him back before he could reach Nick's throat.
"We're not werewolves, cattle-boy," Fang snarled. "We are wolves. Period."
Nick looked bemused by the insult. "Cattle-boy?"
"Slang term," Ash supplied. "Stemming from the fact that they view humans as food."
Nick took a step back.
"Pink boxes, huh?" Ash asked, amused at the thought. No wonder they were hiding them.
Vane passed a menacing glare from Nick to him. "Anya had a craving for gumbo and chocolate. And she wanted it from the Flamingo Room and nowhere else."
Ash felt the corners of his lips twitch. "I can't believe you would run this errand for your sister."
Fang snorted. "Yeah well, remember, the term bitch was invented for our females."
Vane growled at him. "She's our littermate, Fang. Show her respect."
Fang's eyes flared, but he tilted his head down in submission to his older brother.
Vane handed the pink box to Fang, then pulled a pen from his pocket and wrote down a number. He handed it to Ash. "That's my cell. You need help with the Daimons, let me know. We have a dozen Strati in our pack and the last thing we want are Daimons sniffing around our females and pups."
Ash took the number and put it in his pocket. He'd barely concealed it when he noticed the rest of the Strati moving in.
They moved stealthily around the street corner like a herd of wild dogs. Fanned out and dressed in black, they looked very much like the lethal killers they were. Everyone on the street rushed away from them, and eyed them nervously.
So much for being low-key. But then, the Were-Hunters had never cared who or what knew they existed. If anyone gave them trouble, they ended up as lunch.
The Strati surrounded him and Nick.
"Dark-Hunter," Stefan growled. Standing even in height with Ash, he was the Strati leader and Vane's mortal enemy. The two of them fought together when they had to, but otherwise couldn't stand each other. "What are you doing with our filos?"
Ash noted the way Stefan's lips curled as he used the affectionate term for a male pack member. There was no love lost between Vane and Fang and their packmates. Still, Ash was an outsider and the pack always presented itself as a unified whole to any outsider.
"I was sharing information," he said.
Stefan narrowed his eyes on Vane. "Did you acquire our supplies?"
Vane snorted as he glanced at Nick. "It's a sad day when cattle can smell it and you can't."
Stefan started to attack, but the steely look on Vane's face set the older man back. Stefan was leader because of his age and experience. Vane was subordinate only because he had yet to challenge him. Should Vane ever choose to challenge Stefan for supremacy, there was no doubt who would win.
"Later," Stefan said to Ash before he led the bulk of the Strati away.
Vane and Fang stayed behind.
"Use the number if you need us, Ash," Vane said.
Ash nodded.
They joined the rest of their pack and mounted the motorcycles they had parked on the street behind them.
Ash didn't move until they were gone from his sight.
"Now that's a scary bunch of folks, ain't it?"
"No, Nick," Ash said slowly. "They're not folks. They're animals. They might walk in human form for a short time, but at the end of the day, they are all wolves."
His cell phone rang.
Ash answered it. It was Talon, his voice filled with pain and rage.
"I need your help, T-Rex. I'm at Club Runningwolf's. They took Sunshine."
"Who took Sunshine?"
"The Celtic god, Camulus. As soon as the sun sets I'm going after him."