Cowboy Bikers MC Werewolves - Esther E. Schmidt

CHAPTER ONE

– FIGOR –

“He requested two. We have at least twelve ready to be sold, so I’m thinking we take a few pictures and a video of four horses and give him a choice of those four,” Ash, my VP, says.

I let his words sink in while Ozzy asks, “Why only give him a choice between four horses when we have twelve ready?”

“Are you going to do the work? Groom, photograph, and video each and every single one? All before tomorrow?” Ash deadpans.

Ozzy leans back in his chair. “Four sounds like an ample amount.”

“Anyone heard anything about Allen Miles?” Bevin asks. “Because I think I ran into him last night and kicked his ass. He got away because I was drunk as fuck.”

I shake my head as my gaze wanders to the open window. We’re in the back room of the bar we own which is located at the edge of our property. I’m the president of the Iron Hot Blood MC, Nevada chapter. We have a huge ranch where our club is located since we breed both Longhorns and Quarter Horses.

It might seem like a weird choice for a bunch of werewolf shifters, but there’s money to be made and we all appreciate the setup we created. Not only do we enjoy riding bikes, and horses, we also take pleasure in the hard work around the ranch, as well as the bar we also use to blow off some steam.

Most locals swing by from time to time to grab a beer or do some business. Women from all over stroll into our bar for a good time. Everyone around town knows about our livestock and also think we have a special type of dog we breed and train. Little do they know we are the special breed; werewolves. Needless to say, no one fucks with us.

Until a few weeks ago when a stranger came into our bar. We found out the man rented a house in town because he was here for business. Being a werewolf comes with special abilities such as extensive smell, hyperawareness, speed, and massive strength.

And this new guy–who we just found out is Allen Miles–reeked of trouble. We sensed it the second he stepped into our bar. But there’s little you can do when the fucker hasn’t done anything wrong yet. Until three days ago when we found out he scammed Caz’s father. He ran off with five grand. An easy trick anyone would see through, but Caz’s father is old and too good at heart.

“Are you serious?” Caz snaps, drawing me back to the discussion at hand.

“I don’t know. Like I said, I was drunk. But I know for sure it was him.” Bevin rubs a hand over his eyes. “Or someone who looked like him.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Ash sighs. “Someone who looked like him? Really? So, you’re basically saying you could have beaten up a totally innocent man?”

Bevin winces. “Maybe.”

Growls erupt and I slam my flat hand on the table. “Enough. Bevin, go hunt down the person you beat up. Did you even get his scent?”

The fucker winces again.

“Do you even know where the fuck you were when you beat the living shit out of a guy? Dammit, if it’s a human you better pray he’s still alive,” I growl.

“Bevin, get the fuck up and come with me. We are going to have a little chat in the bar and go over everything you did before we retrace your steps and find him.” Ash stands and smacks Bevin against the back of his head. “Now, dammit.”

“Ash, let Ozzy and Caz handle Bevin and this fucking mess. We need to get those photographs and videos ready for the buyer,” I order.

Ash curses and nods before directing his attention to Bevin again. “You better pray you kicked Allen’s ass because if you fucked-up an innocent person there will be punishment.”

Bevin hangs his head and stomps out of the room. The idiot is nineteen and just became a prospect. He’s a damn hothead and drinks way too much to cope with the shit he’s going through. And there’s one difference between him and most of our other brothers; Bevin was bitten, not born.

Born werewolves have full control of their inner beast. We’re stronger and all our senses are fully developed. A full-blooded werewolf can turn a human, and it’s not simply a one bite process, there’s more to it than that.

But like I said, Bevin was bitten. The whole hothead and out of control fits the