Page 12 of Junkyard Dog

“Where do I get my hands on some of that?” Max grumbled, looking at the dance floor. “So, Chuck’s here.”

His jaw tensed as he resisted the overwhelming urge to scan the club. “Oh, yeah?”

Max gestured to the dance floor. “Over there with Spider-Man.”

Feigning disinterest, he tracked Max’s arm and spotted the guy immediately. “I better find Melanie before she changes her mind,” he muttered. “Good luck tonight.”

His date’s drink long forgotten, he wound his way through the crowd until he had a good view of Spider-Man.

And Charlotte.

The ponytail and T-shirt were gone, replaced by sleek auburn waves, tight leather pants, and a neckline that draped off her shoulder, the fabric clinging to her figure.

He took another long drink as he watched her chatter with the asshole in the Spider-Man shirt, her animated movements giving tantalizing flashes of her stomach before she paused and tugged the hem of her top down. When the guy put his hands on Charlotte’s hips and pulled her closer to him, he took an involuntary step forward.

“Where’s my drink?”

“Shit, sorry,” he muttered, reaching for his wallet as Melanie crossed her arms and lifted a perfectly plucked brow. “I’ll get you another.”

“Never mind.” She sighed in exasperation, wrapping her arm around his. “Let’s just go.”

*

The light ofthe fuller moon illuminated the desert floor, allowing Alex to easily maneuver through the brush as he tore across the sand.

Bo was an idiot.

Get over one woman by getting on top of another.

Dumbass advice from a dumbass.

As a hound, his sense of smell was unmatched. Even against the multitude of scents kicked up as he ripped over the hills, Melanie’s expensive lotions and perfume clung to his skin. The chemical taste of her lipstick was still on his tongue.

The assaulting odor of latex intermingled with the unmistakable smell of sex.

So, this is what regret smells like.

He slowed to a trot as the sun peeked over the horizon. He lifted his nose to the sky and howled, mildly pleased when coyotes across the land joined in.

I could just stay out here for a decade or two. No women. No work. Just rabbits and beetles.

The idea was almost appealing, the thought of staying topside to avoid the servitude dealt to him through his birthright a harmless fantasy as he pawed over to his backpack and scanned the area for intruders before transforming. Focusing on imagining an existence untethered to the politics and games of the underworld pushed out the less pleasant images of a certain park ranger cozying up to some random guy.

A random guy that wasn’t him.

Not that it mattered in the long run. Once he tracked the Pirithous and Cerberus dragged the bloodline down, he’d be right back to guarding Hades’s realm, patrolling the banks of the Styx for another dozen centuries or so until his boss decided to send his junkyard dogs topside again to clean up another mess.

Shaking the thoughts from his mind, he tossed his backpack onto the passenger seat and started the engine. What little freedom he had up here was an illusion, and pretending it was anything else was a dangerous game.

Chapter Five

Charlotte turned herphone facedown and pushed her unfinished breakfast toward Max.

“Aren’t you gonna answer that?” Max asked, shoveling a forkful of eggs into his mouth. “Might be your boyfriend.”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” she muttered. “We went out for coffee once. Hardly even a date.”

“So now you’ve had your fill?” he snorted. “What was wrong with the guy?”

---