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him, wrapped his
arms tightly around Revo’s waist Ezra was sure it
hurt, but Revo didn’t complain. Out of the frying pan
and into the freezer, and Ezra had a feeling things could only go downhill from
here.
    Mace. Everything he had heard about the alpha and president of the Hellhounds raged
from the horrifying to the ridiculous, but beneath it all gleamed the
underlying truth. Territorial and brutal, Mace was reputedly an unforgiving
tyrant when it came to outsiders who broke the law in Wolf County.
    While Ezra knew Revo held some clout as beta and club VP, the last thing he wanted was for Revo to get hurt on his account. As strong and powerful as Revo appeared, he couldn’t possibly take on all his
brothers. It didn’t help Ezra begun to suspect Revo had lied about not going against his club and its members on his account.
    Why would Revo go to that extent? Ezra shivered. Revo must have sensed
something because he said, “It’s going to be fine. Stop worrying your head over
every fucking little thing.”
    Ezra wished he had Revo’s confidence.

Chapter Six
     
    Revo joined his bike with the line of bikes outside the clubhouse. He estimated
about half of his brothers remained in residence —an unexpected
relief . The other half, led by Viper, the club Road Captain, hadn’t
returned from their usual weapons run.
    “Um. Nice place,” Ezra murmured
uneasily, glancing at the bare dirt road and the converted warehouse.
    Revo had
to grin at his attempt at trying to pretend to be normal for his sake, although
Ezra gripped his arm like a vise and clung close to him.
    During Pre-Fall times, Mace kept
the club afloat by buying up military-grade weapons from mercenary corps who
operated production sites in former China and buying designer drugs en masse
from South American cartels, then distributing both guns and drugs to buyers.
Barely able to keep themselves afloat with the combined forces of the local
government and legally approved supernatural council bearing down on them, they
could afford to be picky. They sold to clients who had cash and wouldn’t
interfere in affairs in Wolf County.
    In Post-Fall times though, when
civilization collapsed and no law but theirs existed, they could afford to
choose. Self-governed towns never lacked for weapons, and users were always
desperate for a whiff of relief only drugs could buy. It showed in the electric
barb fences ringing the property, the still working security system when most
places in the country no longer had any electricity. Aside from the large
converted warehouse serving as their clubhouse, two other smaller warehouses
served as storage facility for goods.
    “This is home,” Revo agreed, squeezing the back of his neck.
    Spider snorted, chuckling when Ezra
clung to Revo’s arm with a vise-like grip. Reaper and
Sweet already went ahead. “Need I tell you to be careful?”
    Spider might be club Secretary, but
he was also one of the few Hellhounds Revo truly
trusted. Mace gave Revo and Spider the wolf gift when
they were teenagers. They became prospects together, and earned their patches
at the same time.
    “Nah. I’ll be fine.”
    Spider gave him contemplative look.
Always too smart for his own good, but Revo loved him
like his own blood brother. “Okay, then. Mace is probably drinking at the bar.
Don’t linger out here too long, or Sweet will start spreading lies.”
    After Spider left, Ezra looked up
at Revo . Damn but did the incubus remind Revo of the abandoned puppy Spider and he picked up when
they were twelve. Revo pressed Ezra’s face to his
chest, and Ezra automatically wrapped his arms around him, his breath warm
against his shirt. Ezra sighed, relaxing when he began stroking his back. Revo’s cock stirred.
    Fuck. He couldn’t afford any distractions.
    “I need to let you know what to
expect when we walk through those doors,” Revo said,
voice like gravel.
    Ezra stilled in his arms, but at
least he didn’t start hitting him or tried to run. Revo