Free The Tale of the Wolf (The Kenino Wolf Series) by Cyrus Chainey

here five minutes and then I disappear off with this geezer, after disappearing off with you? Wait a few hours when people are pissed and don’t know what’s going on.’
    ‘ But Wolfy ...’
    ‘ But nuthin’, Tabs. This is business. I do things my way. It don’t matter when I talk to him … now, midnight or four in the morning. You can’t do nuthin’ till tomorrow so what’s the rush?’
    ‘ There ain’t one. But you will?’
    ‘ Course I will. I told you I would.’

    I didn’t tell Tabatha, but I had the full intention of frisking this guy. Something about him was giving off warning signals. If it wasn’t for Tabatha I would’ve dumped him there and then, but lust was driving where brains feared to tread. I didn’t want to let her down and get her pissed off with me again. So I agreed to meet him later, one to one.
    I returned to the table. Muzzi was being chatted up by Kenneth, who was in bodice and suspenders and was looking pretty good. Boom-Boom hadn’t returned yet.
    ‘ You want a drink, Wolfy? You must be thirsty after your exertions,’ Kenneth said slyly.
    ‘ Thank you, Kenneth. I’ll have a Leffe.’
    ‘ Looks like Kenneth‘s keen,’ I said, nudging Muzzi.
    ‘ It’s not me, it’s the curly wig.’ Muzzi was Starsky.
    Boom-Boom strolled back over and sat down. Leon had probably informed him of some business venture. I didn’t enquire. He would’ve told me but I couldn’t be bothered. The party was thumping; really starting to pick up. I had planned to get blasted, wash away some sorrows, but because Tabatha had brought Colin, I thought it best to stay on the right side of sober.
    It was about half one in the morning and Leon had just finished a rendition of Gloria Gaynor’s ‘I will survive’. Clichéd I know but Leon likes it and he does do an excellent rendition. Four other drag queens got up on stage and started doing something. Not sure what it was, they were pretty inaudible. As they got on the stage a man with a skinhead and ill-fitting suit — as in too much muscle, too little fabric — sat down in front of the three of us. Looking across at each of us but addressing me, he said:
    ‘ Where is Nikos?’ His accent was Russian.
    He was a hard looking guy. Military type; shaved head and big neck.
    ‘ No idea what you’re talking about, mate. Think you’ve got the wrong guy.’
    ‘ Stand up very slowly,’ the Russian stated, opening his jacket to reveal a holstered pistol.
    ‘ What ...? Look, I think you’ve made some mistake. I don’t know what the hell you are going on about. ’ The Russian smiled as he saw our faces clock the pistol.
    ‘ Get up very slowly and there won’t be any trouble,’ he commanded calmly.
    He turned round to signal to three other blokes in ill-fitting suits (same reason.) They strode towards us.
    As he turned back round to face us Boom-Boom let loose; two solid connections to the guy’s head. I heard his jaw and his nose crack. His face crumpled like tissue paper under the weight of the onslaught. I saw his eyes roll in his head and then the lights went out. He was out cold, slumped across the table. Boom-Boom was living up to his name.
    His three companions, who were approaching, on seeing their friend get smacked, ripped open their jackets and pulled out a veritable arsenal of hardware: two uzis and another pistol. Boom-Boom reached at the unconscious Russian and tore his pistol from its holster.
    Seeing what was coming, I grabbed for the tranq gun in my pocket and whipped it out. I let loose a shot and got one of the Russians between the eyes. He went cross-eyed and slumped on to the floor. The remaining two let loose a volley of shots. The screams echoed round the club as people dived for cover. It was mayhem.
    Muzzi flipped the table, tipping the Russian on to the floor and we dived behind it. I reloaded the tranq gun, the other two Russians starting spraying the place indiscriminately. I saw Colin tumble behind the bar, as did