Junkyard Dog Read online

  Evernight Publishing ®

  www.evernightpublishing.com

  Copyright© 2015 Pelaam

  ISBN: 978-1-77233-431-9

  Cover Artist: Jay Aheer

  Editor: Melissa Hosack

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  JUNKYARD DOG

  Pelaam

  Copyright © 2015

  Chapter One

  Putting the last few pieces of his haul of car and bike parts into his trailer, Lyall stretched his back until he heard the vertebrae click into place. Rummaging through the junkyard to find good parts was hard, tiring, and dirty work. But the money he paid Old Manu, he'd recoup three or four times over when repairing a car or bike.

  Before he headed home, Lyall needed to buy some staple groceries from the supermarket. Although he made good use of the local stores close to where he lived, a bigger store meant cheaper prices, and sometimes that meant the difference between a decent meal and little more than a snack.

  Raising his head, he flared out his nostrils and inhaled. He was the only wolf around. Good. His pack worked in town and had homes there, but all came to his sprawling property to relax and be themselves. His pack wasn't the usual mix of alpha, betas, and an omega. Apart from him, the sole alpha, his pack consisted of omegas.

  These men had been disowned by their families and natural packs, or their position within the pack had been such that they were subject more to abuse than support. With him, they'd found a place and a pack where they felt needed and secure.

  Cracking his knuckles, Lyall stared out in the direction of town. He should have been alpha of one of the big packs in the area, but that was in the past. He had his pack, and he'd defend each and every one of them if ever necessary.

  A shuffling sound caught his attention and Manu waved as he approached. "Them bad boys leaving you be, bro?" Manu was dressed much the same as Lyall in his ancient jeans, faded and threadbare, and plain T-shirt. But with over twenty years separating them, although Manu was still bigger and broader, he no longer had the toned muscles Lyall boasted.

  They'd become friends ever since Lyall had set up his parts and repair shop. His property was a good distance out of town, just as he preferred. No nearby neighbors, but close to several reserves. It was ideal for the kind of work he did and the kind of men he and his pack were.

  "So far." Lyall nodded. "Not that I have much that they want. I'm useful to them. Keeping their junk on the road." He curled his lip, baring his teeth. "They leave my pack alone, we're all good."

  "Glad to hear it. You're a good customer of mine." Manu winked before patting Lyall's shoulder.

  Huffing a laugh, Lyall reached into his back pocket to pull out his wallet. "Yeah. Guess I may be at that." He counted out several bills and passed them to Manu. As the older man stuffed them into his jeans, Lyall shook his head.

  "You didn't even count it."

  "Don't need to with you." Manu fixed Lyall with a level gaze. "You're a hard man, Lyall. You've had to be, but you're a good man. You don't try and cheat me. I know you make a profit on what you buy. Why else would you do it? And you send JT over to visit. I could do with a few hands of cards tonight. Good cook. Good company. What more do I need?"

  Neither Manu nor JT were gay, but they weren't the marrying kind either. They had a laid back camaraderie that allowed them to hang out together, drink a few beers, and enjoy one another's company. Plus Manu was absolutely right. JT was a good cook. Even on the occasions that JT had to scratch around for ingredients, he still managed to make a good meal from them.

  "Time I headed off." Lyall glanced at his watch. "I need to get some supplies or I'll never hear the end of it from JT."

  A snort of laughter escaped Manu. "That I can believe. Be seeing you around."

  "Sure thing, Manu." Lyall gave a casual wave and headed to his truck. He'd drive into town a little way to the nearest supermarket and then hit the road back to his place. He'd leave the parts in his truck and go through them all tomorrow, setting them out properly in the workshop.

  His casual appearance belied his meticulous nature and Lyall preferred it that way. Being underestimated often proved to be invaluable. He fingered a scar, almost invisible, that ran under his left eye. Life saving in fact.

  He settled in his truck and pulled away from the junkyard. The nearest supermarket was in a small industrial estate with several other larger stores and an auto repair and tire shop.

  Pulling up in the car park, Lyall selected a space not too far from the supermarket. He pulled out his wallet and checked the contents. There was still a couple hundred dollars in it. He'd got a real bargain with the parts today. Lyall decided to buy a few extras and make sure JT went to Old Manu in the next couple of days. Manu had helped them often enough in their hard times. Lyall would ensure he benefited in times of surplus.

  He shook his head. Manu might be just a human, but he was effectively an honorary member of his pack.

  Heading back to his truck, his hands full of shopping bags, Lyall cursed at the rain as it drove against his face. Almost at his truck, a sweet, beguiling scent drew Lyall's attention as a slim man, hood up and head down, hurried blindly toward him.

  They collided slightly, the stranger muttering an apology as he continued on his way. Two steps later, his hand on the handle of his truck door, Lyall realized something was missing. He slapped the back pocket of his jeans, already knowing his wallet was missing. Throwing his bags into the passenger side of the truck, Lyall whirled, a savage snarl rumbling past his lips.

  The stranger was already running. Lyall took off after him, his expectation being to catch the thief quickly. Although Lyall hadn't shifted, he could still outrun a mere human. But he wasn't catching his prey.

  Anger-fueled adrenaline pumped through his veins, and he closed the gap with the thief. The man turned off, heading around the back of the stores and Lyall chased after. He smiled to himself. Gotcha, ya bastard. They were in a narrow alleyway between the deliveries entrances of the stores. At the end of the alleyway was a high wall and the only other thing was a large, green, industrial-sized bin.

  Without even hesitating, the thief veered toward the bin. Still at full speed, he leaped up, hit the lip of the bin with his left foot, and propelled himself up and to the right. He hit the wall with his right foot, and the second impetus allowed him to catch hold of the second story roof of the building and swing himself up onto it and vanish from sight.

  Slowing to a stop, Lyall howled his fury. He could shift, but the advantage was with the thief. Obviously a shifter himself, his escape route worked out in advance, the stranger probably had a vehicle nearby. Even in wolf form he'd soon lose the stranger's scent. Although a small voice told him he'd never forget that enticing aroma.

  Something small sailed over from the rooftop to land close by. Edging cautiously forward, Lyall peered at it. "What the fuck?" Picking up his wallet, Lyall looked inside. His cards were still in there as was a hundred dollars. The thief had taken exactly one hundred dollars only.

  "Don't think this is over." Lyall shouted up at the roof, but silence was his only answer. On the verge of stuffing the wallet into his back pocket, Lyall hesitated and then brought it to his nose.

  His nostrils flared as he inhaled deeply. Warmth heated his groin. With a growl, Lyall pocketed the wallet. If nothing else he'd know that scent even
at a good distance. There was something as enticing as it was unique about the fragrance.

  Chapter Two

  Work kept Lyall busy for a couple of days, but he didn't forget the thief. Not that he could with his pack teasing him about the robbery, which he took with good grace. After all, it took balls to lift a wallet and outrun a shifter.

  Sitting in his truck, he sat up straighter and sniffed loudly. The thief's scent. It was faint, but unmistakable. Lyall looked around. There was no one nearby who fit the bill. There was only a kid, somewhere in his early teens, heading in his direction, but no adults.

  The nearer the kid got, the stronger the scent became, causing Lyall to peer at him. He definitely wasn't the thief, but he had the scent on him.

  As the kid walked past, Lyall pounced. He grabbed the boy and pushed him into the passenger seat. Leaning so his face was millimeters from the kid's, Lyall bared his teeth. "Someone stole from me. I don't let that go unpunished. I smell him on you."

  "You leave me alone, dog. My brother'll make you sorry if you don't." The teen attacked quickly, pushing a hand into Lyall's face and then scrabbling for the truck's lock.

  The kid's reaction was both fast and unexpected, and he'd have made good his escape if Lyall hadn't ensured the central locking was activated.

  "Seems you inherited his balls, kid. But I want my money back. You have a cell phone?"

  The kid glared at him with undisguised scorn and remained quiet.

  "Fine. Let's do this the hard way." Leaning across the boy, Lyall fastened his seatbelt, and then gunned the engine. "You had your chance. Now he meets me on my turf."

  The boy's face paled as Lyall drove away, but he remained silent.

  The ride back to his place was eerily quiet. Lyall knew he'd been an idiot. Fuck, I could be done for kidnapping. But he was sure the kid's brother wouldn't involve the cops. For one thing, most human cops preferred to leave shifter issues to be resolved either by a shifter cop, as and when one was available, or between shifters themselves.

  Bumping over his speed ramps, the kid fixed him with another look of scorn. "Your driving sucks."

  A smirk twisted Lyall's lips. He could learn to like this kid. "Yeah? You should hit these babies on a bike. Then you fly. But they're not for fun."

  "What then?"

  "When my pack's here, I want them to feel safe. This is the only way onto the property. River down there, reserve over there. You drive down here at speed, your teeth are gonna be rattling by the time you get to the yard. Gives us time to give you a welcome."

  "Who'd do that? I thought you wolves stuck together."

  "Packs stick together. There are a couple of packs around here. And one isn't that fond of me and mine."

  The boy subjected Lyall to an intense scrutiny. "I can see why. You look like a junkyard dog."

  A quickly muted snort of laughter escaped Lyall. True enough, he wasn't pretty to look at. His face was too hard and angular, and it lacked symmetry. Sporting a full sleeve of ink, as well as a tattoo on his neck, and ta moku markings on his other shoulder that extended to his chest, Lyall knew he looked exactly like the epitome of the bad boy every good girl, or boy, was warned against. And he didn't give a flying fuck. He needed the aggressive appearance, and lived up to it. You didn't mess with him, or his pack family.

  "You'll be sorry you did this. My brother will kick your arse." The kid sniffed loudly.

  "Yeah? Well maybe I'll kick his and teach him not to steal."

  "He didn't have a choice."

  The tone in the kid's voice had changed. There was a panicked edge to it and Lyall looked at him sharply, but the kid folded his arms and stared ahead, his lips sealed in a tight line.

  Security lights activated as he approached his home. Not that Lyall was troubled by would-be thieves, but it was better to be safe than sorry. Parking his truck, he opened the passenger door for the teen who stalked ahead of Lyall and into the house.

  His home wasn’t the neatest, but Lyall kept it clean. The boy walked inside and wrinkled his nose. He looked over at Lyall.

  “This place reeks of dog.”

  “Wolf.” Lyall growled the word. “We’re wolves, not dogs.” The kid impressed him. Calm, unperturbed, and now that Lyall was focusing, he picked up on the kid’s type. Feline. Figures.

  “Whatever.” The kid ambled over to Lyall’s bookcase and studied the shelves.

  “Right. Call your brother. Tell him you’re here and that he owes me a hundred.” Lyall drew himself up to his full height and used his most intimidating scowl.

  The kid just sighed. “You’ll be sorry.” Pulling out his cell phone, the kid hit speed dial.

  Unable to resist, Lyall got closer, straining his hearing to listen to the kid’s brother.

  “Yeah. I know I’m late. Not my fault, Niko. Some junkyard dog snatched me. No, no, no. I’m fine. He’s just a dog. Well. He says wolf. He says you took the hundred from him. It’s Lyall’s Bike and Auto repairs. Yeah. Yeah. Of course. I love you, too.”

  He couldn’t hear everything the kid’s brother said, but Lyall did pick up on Niko's voice. So did his libido. His cock swelled at the sound and Lyall walked away quickly before the kid, the very astute kid, picked up on anything.

  Fortunately the outside lights coming on distracted them both. A moment later the door opened.

  “Dylan, Justin, good to see you, guys.” Lyall smiled at the slender, gangly youth and his younger brother. Then he frowned. Both of them looked upset. “What happened?”

  “Dylan got bullied again. I’m at my wits end.” Justin paced back and forth. “He doesn’t fit in anywhere, and the school just isn’t helping.”

  “What school?” The kid came over, staring at Dylan, who shrank closer to his brother but peered back with wide eyes.

  “Who’s this?” Justin looked at Lyall.

  “Er …” Lyall winced. He hadn’t even asked the kid’s name.

  “Aren’t kidnappers meant to know the names of the people they snatch? I’m Riley. Do you go to Devon High?” Riley focused on Dylan again.

  “Yes.” Dylan nodded. “They don’t like me. No one likes me.”

  “Of course they do.” Lyall moved quickly to stand before Dylan. “Justin loves you. I love you and so does the rest of the pack. If the kids in school are too stupid to see what they’re missing, that’s their problem.”

  “Whose class are you in?” Riley came closer.

  “Mr. West.” Dylan edged a little from Justin. “Who’s your teacher?”

  "Mrs. Evans. She's okay, but West's a wanker." Riley rummaged in his pocket and jotted an address down. "Meet me there tomorrow at eight-thirty. Me and a few friends will walk you in. One of them had issues. We got things sorted." He leaned in a little closer, sniffed, and then looked over at Justin with a puzzled frown.

  "We share the same mother. My father died and mother remarried. A human." Justin laid a hand on Dylan's shoulder. "My brother's a half-blood. Enhanced senses for a human, but no shifting ability."

  "Doesn't matter." Riley shrugged.

  "Does to some." Lyall ruffled Dylan's hair. "But not here."

  "Write a letter to the school." Riley faced Justin, his hands on his hips. "We have someone leaving our class. Tell them you've just discovered a distant cousin in our class. I'll get my brother to write in, too." He ushered Dylan toward the table over at the far side of the room. "I'll jot some stuff down for you."

  "Thanks." Justin patted Riley's shoulder. "Want something to eat? I usually make a sandwich for Dylan about now."

  "Sure."

  Grabbing a handful of Lyall's T-shirt, Justin dragged him into the kitchen. "Just what's going on? Did you really just grab a child off the street?"

  "The scent of the thief was on him. It made me act … rashly."

  Staring at him, Justin's eyebrows rose. "You? Are you sure?"

  "It doesn't matter. I don't have the time or inclination for a mate." Lyall folded his arms as he stared back at Justin.

>   "It doesn't sound to me as if you have much choice in the matter. Acting oddly is an understatement. Forget the money. Just get Riley back to his family and hope they don't take things further."

  "His brother's on his way."

  "I'd best make sure Riley can say he was looked after then."

  Turning away from Lyall, Justin busied himself making the sandwiches.

  Leaving him to it, Lyall ambled back into his living room. He watched the two boys. Dylan had his school books out, as did Riley. But they weren't doing homework. Riley had a laptop that looked as though it had seen better days, but it worked and he was busily working his way through his friends online.

  If Lyall was honest, he didn't really want the money now. He hoped there was a way to make that a thing of the past. The rest of his pack arrived over the next quarter of an hour, and Lyall swiftly ushered them into the kitchen where he confessed what had happened. He was their alpha; he wasn't going to lie to them.

  More than one sideways glance was aimed in his direction, but no one commented as openly as Justin. Not that it mattered. Their surprise and shock was almost palpable. Lyall went out into his backyard. He hoped he could smooth this over.

  Chapter Three

  When the outside light next blazed into life, Lyall sprang to his feet from where he'd settled at the kitchen table. "Justin, get the kid, I'll meet you out there."

  Setting off at a run, Lyall hurried out the kitchen door and around to the front of the house. Squinting, he still couldn't see the kid's brother clearly.

  Niko wore the same hoodie with the hood pulled down, and the yard lights threw him into shadow. There was an easy grace to his stride, but Lyall was sure he had a couple of inches as well as at least fifty pounds of muscle on the rapidly approaching man.

  He held up his hands in a placatory gesture. "I'm Lyall. Look, I'm sorry about this—"