Page 20 of The Werewolf Cowboy
Chapter 7
A cool wind rustled the leaves in the trees outside his ranch house the next morning. Grayson adjusted the pack on his shoulders that contained the supplies he needed. He had spent all night tracing an ancient map, learning old routes, and then finally fell into a restless sleep, needing all his energy for the task ahead.
He needed to be alone for what he must do.
He chartered a private jet to fly to Las Vegas. Once in the city, he rented the fastest car and drove to the brothel that was a portal to the Dark Kingdom.
Finally he arrived outside a two-story house, painted a pale cream with green shutters, inside the forbidding iron fence that ringed the structure. The walkway was concrete.
The front door was solid oak, with an intricate carving of runes Grayson recognized as Fae. Magick pulsed in the air.
The Dark Wing Gentlemen’s Club, a very exclusive club for male Others near Sin City.
Jagged, blue-gray mountains flanked the valley and a stand of tall trees hid the building from the street. Grayson sensed Skins living nearby were blissfully unaware of the brothel. Power lines passed nearby and he felt the crackle and hum of energy singing in the air.
Interesting.
He went to the doorway and rang the bell. Expecting a legion of servants, perhaps a grizzly or Lupine bodyguard, to answer, he was surprised to see a Dark Fae open the door. He was tall as Grayson, but clad in a black tunic, black leggings and black boots. He had long, ice-blond hair, hard, brown eyes set beneath dark, arched brows, and bore a cynical look. Instinctively Grayson knew this man.Jaeden. The Dark Fae Aiden mentioned.
A silver sword was sheathed at the golden belt ringing his tunic. Grayson kept his gaze trained on the Fae’s face, knowing Jaeden’s magick was far more a threat than any Fae-forged steel.
“Wolf,” Jaeden drawled. “I’ve been expecting you.”
Grayson looked around, every instinct on full alert. “How? Your magick?”
The Dark Fae looked amused. “No magick except for the phone company. Mitchell called a while ago.”
Grayson entered the brothel, taking care to avoid skin contact with the Dark Fae. Energy crackled in the air. “You’re pulling power from the electrical grid,” he said.
Jaeden gave him a thoughtful look. “I can teach you how to harness it, wolf. There are many things one can do in this world, if one is equipped with the abilities.”
Grayson narrowed his gaze. “I’m here to access the portal to the Dark Kingdom, not play show and tell. Where is it?”
A short, unamused laugh. “You are a wolf of few words, Grayson Moore. And yet your friends in the Mitchell pack do not know exactly what you are. You are eager to hide this from them.”
Silence remained his best defense. The Fae could easily pull the information from Grayson’s mind. Grayson knew how to erect defenses against mind invasion.
Giving an elegant shrug, Jaeden led the way into the brothel. Opulent furnishings greeted him as he was escorted inside. Jewel-toned Persian carpets lay upon the marbled floors and the tall ceilings featured corniced moldings. The receiving area resembled a sheikh’s palace.
He followed Jaeden through a hallway to the back of the house, past a kitchen where an ogre in a white chef’s coat stirred a pot at a six-burner stove.
They went out the back door. What seemed like an acre of dry grass stretched outside, ringed by a tall fence surrounding the brothel. Jaeden headed for a stubby tree.
“This is the portal.” The Dark Fae pointed to the tree. “You will have to send over your pack first, before crossing over.”
“I know.”
Jaeden gave him another thoughtful look. “It has been a long time since you last visited that world, has it not? I smell more of the Skin world on you than Lupine.”
Busy unbuckling his pack, Grayson said nothing and set the pack near the tree. He removed the amulet given to him in childhood and tucked it into a pocket of the pack, then chanted the spell he’d never forgotten.
There was a brilliant purple flash, nearly blinding him, and the backpack vanished.
Jaeden gave a low bow. “After you.”
His heart nearly stopped. “I’m not going with you.”
“Ah, but we are headed to the same place, so why not travel together and save ourselves the drain caused by crossing over?”
