Page 6 of Hellhounds Never Lie

“That’s our territory.” The alpha turned back to his devout packmates and pointed aggressively toward the east.

My nose twitched at the odor in the air from the alpha’s words.Partially true, but not quite right.

My ability to scent lies was helpful, but I wished I understood why he was lying. Not all lies were bad, right? I snorted. Yeah. I couldn’t even pretend to believe that. My unyielding honesty had gotten me into trouble almost as much as my ability to scent lies other people said, but I couldn’t imagine living any other way.

Even if it meant I was destined to live alone.

“That’s our pack house,” the alpha continued.Another half-truth.

He spoke loudly, in a rallying sort of way, which I guess was one way to get people to feel good about stealing. He sounded more like a con man promoting a Ponzi scheme than a wolf pack alpha. I rubbed my aching head.

A spot behind my left eye started throbbing.

“So anything in that place is ours.”An outright lie.“It’s time for us to go and get it.” The alpha cracked his knuckles. “Josh here, he’s already led a test run. Went smooth as…Er…” the alpha fumbled over his words like he couldn’t remember the idiom. “As slick as bacon grease. That’s right. It went as slick as bacon grease to get into the pack house and back out again.”

Yeah. Our illustrious alpha certainly had a way with words. I couldn’t believe it when the pack hummed in approval. A few licked their lips.

“And Lenny, he’s already lined up a buyer from the city. A gnome… or was it a goblin…?” The alpha cut his hand through the air when Lenny tried to step in to explain. Lenny cringed and dropped his gaze.

Truth.

Some of the wolves growled low about the mere idea of working with another supe.

Me? I was wondering if that was who I’d seen Lenny talking to in the woods the first night I’d joined the pack. They’d been in the deepest shadows of the trees, in a spot so dark even my hellhound’s eyes couldn’t penetrate it, which was strange now that I thought about it. My hellhound didn’t usually have trouble seeing into any shadow. Could magic have been interfering with my senses? If it was, I doubted it was just a gnome or goblin Lenny was talking to. Their magics didn’t work like that.

What was this pack mixed up in?

The alpha nodded at the discontented wolves. “I know. I know. I’d prefer to work with a wolf too, but this creature is connected. Better than our usual circle. This is specialized shit. Magic and shit. Our usual wolf connections won’t touch the stuff. Idiots, the lot of them, saying no to that kind of money. But we don’t need them.”

Truth, at least as far as the alpha was concerned.

As I mulled all that over, I fought the instinct to tilt my head to the side like a confused dog. Not that the wolves would notice, because they did it all the time too. But sitting here, surrounded by these people, I didn’t want to be anything like them. Also, I had no desire to show deference to this idiot, and exposing my neck to him might suggest that’s what I was doing.

“If that place is the pack house, why do we live here?” As soon as the question left my mouth, I knew I should have saved it to ask later, when the alpha wasn’t around, but it was out there now.

The alpha and the rest of the wolves turned to look at me, so I gestured around the room as if they didn’t understand what I was asking.

I’d always assumed this dilapidated farmhouse was the pack house. Sure, it wasn’t much to look at, but it wasn’t terribly different from some of the other shifter settlements I’d visited in the past. There was one large building, in this case a two-story farmhouse with this large musty room in the basement, situated in the center of the development. This was where the alpha lived. All the meals and gatherings were held here too.

Scattered haphazardly around the farmhouse like clusters of mismatched dice were much smaller buildings. Although in better shape than the farmhouse, most of those buildings were no bigger than garden sheds. I’d never been in one of them, but I couldn’t figure out how those tiny structures could fit beds let alone families.

Then there was the converted garage, which was where I’d been put.

As soon as the alpha had laid eyes on my muscles, he’d decided I’d be a good guard or enforcer and that was where people holding those positions bunked. But I also suspected he didn’t want me mingling with the rest of the pack yet. Not until I’d proven myself.

The garage acted like a barracks, although perhaps calling it ‘converted’ was being too generous. It was a decrepit old two-car garage with no insulation and large vehicle-sized doors that occasionally opened for no apparent reason. Bunkbeds, stacked three high, were crowded in half of the space with only a foot or two maximum between the mattresses. The other half was used as a common room with threadbare sofas and an ancient box television. As soon as I’d seen the place, I’d dreaded the idea of spending a winter in there, even if I was a hellhound and naturally generated a lot of body heat.

And, honestly, I was too damn old to be crawling to the top of a bunkbed, no matter what time of year it was.

I should have left as soon as I’d seen it.

So, if there was another pack house, why the hell weren't we using it instead of squeezing into these too tight and inadequate accommodations?

"Shh…" Peter, the guy sitting beside me, elbowed me and shook his head. I could see he meant it as a friendly warning, but it irritated me. Mine was a serious question. Had I walked into the middle of a territory war? Because that was not what I’d signed up for when I’d come here almost a week ago.

"Is this not the pack house?" I looked the alpha right in the eye.

The alpha growled and narrowed his eyes at me. "You are supposed to listen and do as I tell you. You’re the muscle. You aren't here because of your brains. Got it?"