than enemy territory, even if they were safe here now.
"So where are we meeting Shane?" Finn asked as they walked down a street that seemed to have nothing but boarded up shop fronts and the odd bar or pool hall already doing a brisk business at midday.
"Here." Rafe lifted his chin to indicate one of the seedier bars on the strip. The windows at the front of the bar had been painted black so that no one passing by could see in. Finn eyeballed it, looking less than enthused about going in. The sign read ‘The Gin Mill’.
"Nice," Finn muttered, then pushed open the door. "Remind me not to drink anything unless I really feel like getting Hep C." He paused. “Are these the only kind of bars this place has or just the only bars Shane goes to?”
“Yes,” was Rafe’s answer.
It was dim inside. Rafe knew they were backlit against the bright sun streaming in from outside; he also knew that the regulars wouldn't appreciate the light leaking in from behind them. He pushed Finn forward so the door closed behind them. The young werehyena already had his gaze trained to the darkest part of the room so that his eyes would adjust to the bar's darkness that much faster.
A few of the patrons looked up, but most knew to mind their own business. Finn looked at Rafe, gesturing for him to lead the way. Rafe walked through the bar, heading to the back room that held the pool tables and dart boards. Finn followed.
There were four men playing pool, two at each table. Rafe saw Shane, surprisingly happy to see the older werehyena who'd had the good sense to stay out of his mother's plans for taking over Miami. Shane was one of the few werehyenas who hadn't been duped by Samara and her beauty, and now he was kind of responsible for looking out for the few werehyenas from the pack that had survived. He was the one who had reported the latest disappearance, just as he had the last one.
He was dressed in mechanic wear: jeans, white t-shirt, garage shirt over top. His dark hair was thickly threaded through with grey, but Shane was still just as blindingly good looking as any other hyena. He leaned over and sunk two striped balls. Rafe waited until he'd finished his turn before walking into his line of sight.
Shane noticed him, but didn't come over right away. He finished his business with the man he was playing, put his cue back in the rack, and then walked over to where Finn and Rafe stood. He motioned for them to follow him and he led them back into the bar to a table in the corner, away from prying ears and eyes.
"Rafe," Shane said as he settled into the booth. "Glad you could come back so soon."
"Hey Shane," Rafe answered. "You said another one disappeared."
"And this one came back too?" Shane gave Finn a grin.
"Yep. Those boys from last time didn’t scare me away,” the werewolf answered.
“Kess couldn’t come?” Shane didn’t seem offended, only curious.
“She’s got some other council business to take care of, otherwise she’d be here. But she sent us,” Rafe explained. “We’re here to see what you found and if we can figure out what’s going on.”
Finn spoke up. “We’re a little more than a junior detectives, if you get what I'm saying. We’re both on the council with Kess."
Rafe knew that Finn could be a little overprotective of his friends. Most times he was glad of it, but Shane hadn’t meant anything by his question of Kess’ whereabouts. At least Rafe didn’t think he did. Still, the two weres had begun staring into each other's eyes, their hands braced on the table. Neither seemed willing to lower their gaze first.
Rafe rolled his eyes. Great, just what they needed. A dominance display. They didn't have time for this kind of crap. "Hey you two, if you want to whip 'em out and measure them, go into the bathroom. Otherwise, if you're done pissing in your corners, let's get down to business."
Shane grinned, followed by Finn. They broke away, not looking embarrassed in the slightest. "So what's going