Werewolves of New York: Nathaniel Read Free

night until morning came and she could change the locks. She wouldn’t feel safe until then. She crumbled to the hardwood floor and sobbed.

Chapter Two
    “ T hat you , Nathaniel?” Darik casually shouted at the sound of the closing front door.
    The questioned didn’t answer, his mind on what he’d just done. He dropped the keys into the hand-carved wooden bowl on the table just inside the Midtown two-bedroom flat he shared with Eli. Strolling into the well-decorated living room, he nodded to his roommate and their guest, two of his pack members. The balcony door opened and Dontae, the fourth and final member, walked in with a look that said he knew things. But the truth was Dontae was naturally suspicious ever since Catherine.
    All three werewolves stared at their friend, the new arrival, their nostrils flaring at his impossible to ignore stench.
    Oh yeah.
    Well there goes lying about where I’ve been.
    From where Eli sat on their couch, he demanded, “Why do you smell like murder?”
    Nathaniel exhaled deeply and walked behind the sleek bar to reach for Lagavullin scotch among the many high-end liquor bottles stored below. He raked strong fingers through his dark hair, popped the top off the bottle with his other hand, and ignored the cork-cap rolling toward the end of the bar where it hovered. Very aware they were waiting for an answer, he poured a hefty amount into a sleek, clear rocks-glass. “What can I say? The world is shy one disgusting human being as of tonight.”
    As Darik scratched his beard, he exchanged looks with Eli. They turned to include Dontae who stood above them, still by the glass balcony door. Nathaniel glanced over. Dontae’s expression was grave and his returned glance said he was not happy with this information. How could he be?
    Eli, the wolf closest to Nathaniel, shot up off the couch and approached his roommate. “What did you do?”
    Green eyes stayed locked on amber liquid as he brought the glass to his lips. “Nothing you wouldn’t have.”
    “Let me be the judge of that.” Eli grabbed the bottle. “Shit. Hand me a glass.”
    Nathaniel reached for one, dropping it onto the counter with a thud. Images of her sobbing on the ground with that monster on top of her flashed before him. He grimaced and took another sip to make it go away. Why hadn’t I been paying closer attention? “I stopped a rape.”
    “Oh, well, you’re right. I would’ve done that, but…” he trailed off, not wanting to be the one to introduce the obvious, the thing they were all worried about.
    Being discovered for what they really were.
    Darik shuffled his long limbs on the ottoman. “Pour me another one, too.”
    Dontae said nothing.
    They were all dressed in suits as all four had been out that night, agreeing to meet back here for a last nightcap if they didn’t find anyone interesting with whom to spend a few hours. That they were all here was a little annoying, for several reasons, but at least Nathaniel didn’t have to explain the situation more than once. And explaining he had to do. He knew this. They were civilized. They didn’t take human lives unless absolutely necessary, which it rarely ever was. So why did he smell like murder?
    He walked to the center of the room. There was a kitchen off to the side hidden by a large white screen they’d installed for design and appealing use of space. Recessed lighting had been added into the entire flat after moving in, as well. The bathroom and kitchen sinks were refitted with high-end faucets and drains, as were the two showers and bathtubs. Stone tile replaced carpets. The only thing that was wanting was a fireplace, which Eli too often reminded Nathaniel he wished they had. But what could be done? They couldn’t install a chimney in a tenth floor flat in a twenty-four-floor high-rise Downtown no matter how good they were at their jobs.
    The four naturally nocturnal creatures were architects by day. Together they ran a firm, which employed no one