Frank rubbed a hand slowly over his bald head.

Even from where he stood, Danyon felt anger radiating off the guy, like heat from a sunlamp.

“Know what else I heard?” Shauna asked, taking a step toward Frank.

Frank narrowed his eyes, tucked a thumb in his belt loop.

“I heard you picked up on some new stuff, and that you plan to push it, use it to take over some B and C turf.”

“And just what new stuff did you hear we got?” Frank asked.

Danyon had no idea what Shauna was talking about. When Jagger had told them about BGW, he didn’t say anything about them bringing drugs into the city. In fact, Jagger had claimed that, so far, the gang had been laying pretty low. Shauna was obviously fishing for some thing.

Shauna shrugged a response to Frank. “All I heard was ‘new.’”

Frank gave her a crooked smile. “I don’t know what the hell you’re talkin’ about. We’re just here for a little Mardi Gras fun.”

Weighing Frank’s reaction, Danyon couldn’t figure out if the guy knew exactly what Shauna was talking about, or if he was simply determined to fuel her temper.

If his intention was the latter, it appeared he had accomplished the job…big time.

“Listen up, creep. I really don’t care what gang you lead. For all I know, the whole damn lot of you probably ride Schwinns. And what kind of gang name is BGW any way? What does it stand for? Balloons, gumballs and watermelon? Grow up. You, the Blood, the Crips, all of you strut your stuff like you own the world, but all you bring with you no matter where you go is your dope and a pile of crap. People are dying because of what you put out on the street. I’m going to put a stop to your little boy’s club, even if I have to do it myself!”

Frank stood up straight, dropped his hands to his side. “Bitch, you don’t know what the hell you’re talking about. Your mouth is about to get your face smashed in.”

Much to Danyon’s dismay, Shauna snapped back, “Oh, that’s a big man for you. You’re going to hit a woman? Is that how you’re used to getting your way? Is that your exercise regiment for all that blubber you’re hauling around?”

Frank aimed a finger at Shauna but glared at Danyon. “Dude, if this is your bitch you’d better grab her ass and get her out of here, before my foot winds up in her face and yours, too.”

“So, who did your tats?” Shauna asked, evidently determined to get herself killed. “Some kindergartener with a green crayon?”

Frank lowered his head ever so slightly. If looks could kill Shauna would already be at the morgue.

“Oh, come on. Spill it,” Shauna demanded. “Be a man and say what you’ve got. What’s your game? What’s your stuff? What are you going to use to take over that Blood and Crip territory? Your gumballs? Your watermelon? Are you using Banjo to run your junk? Is that what you’re doing? What’s the matter? Your balls aren’t big enough to talk to a woman? You can’t tell it like it is?” Shauna took another step toward him.

All Frank had to do was lean over a couple inches, stretch out a hand, and he would be able to grab her by the neck and snap it. She was going too far.

Shauna jabbed a finger in the air, right in front of Frank’s face. “I’ve got people dying out here because of scum like you. And I’m tired of it, you hear? I’m tired of my people always having to watch their backs because of dogs like you. You and the rest of your punks need to get on your tricycles and just get the hell out of town.”

“That’s enough, bitch!” Frank roared. His right hand shot up, then swung out, heading for Shauna’s face.

In a flash, Danyon sprang forward and grabbed Frank’s arm. “I don’t think so,” he said through clenched teeth.

By now, all of Frank’s goons had circled in tight.

“You don’t have any idea who you’re messing with,” Frank said to Danyon. His eyes had narrowed into slits, and he bared his teeth.

“Oh, I think it’s the other way around,” Danyon snarled.

“That little slut of yours is the one who started all this shit,” Frank said.

The second Danyon heard the word “slut” fly out of Frank’s mouth, his entire body began to vibrate, and his muscles rippled from his calves to his thighs—from his arms to his chest. He wanted to rip the man’s face off. Rip his heart out of his chest. Even if it meant transforming to were right in front of everyone in the bar.

Shauna appeared, seemingly out of nowhere, and forced her body between his and Frank’s. He thought he saw her mouth move, but he couldn’t hear any words. The fury inside of him had grown too loud.

When her voice finally came through, it was panicked. “I just saw him! He’s out back—Banjo!”

Danyon didn’t know if she was making this up to prevent him from transforming to were, or if she was telling the truth. By the way she kept jabbing a finger toward the stairway, he suspected it might be the latter.

“We’re going to lose him again if we don’t go now. I just saw him dart up the stairs. We’ve got to hurry!” She pulled Danyon’s arm, and he allowed her to lead him back to the stairway.

As they rushed up, two steps at a time, Danyon heard a roar of laughter behind them. He knew the men were laughing at him, because he had been yanked out of the bar by a woman. Under any other circumstances, Danyon would have gone back and changed their tune, possibly slaughtering them all—his fury was that great. But he had an entire pack to take care of. They had to come first. They were always first.

“There!” Shauna said, as soon as they’d stepped into the street.

He spotted a flash of orange dart between two buildings about seventy feet away. This time Banjo was not going to slip past him.

Danyon ran.

So much tension had built up inside him, that Danyon quickly reached a speed he only acquired when he was were. He wondered if he had transformed without even realizing it.

In a matter of seconds, he caught up to Banjo, grabbed him around the throat with one hand and wrapped the other hand in his hair. Then he yanked Banjo into a side alley and slammed his back against a brick wall.

Shauna appeared immediately after and stood at the entrance of the alleyway, which would have been Banjo’s only hope of escape, since the opposite end of the alley was blocked off by a ten-foot brick wall.

Banjo’s eyes were wide and darting up, down—left and right. Danyon knew he was looking for an escape. Anything, anywhere—if he could scale the walls he would have. His face held nothing but stark fear when he realized he was trapped.

Banjo laced his fingers together and put hands on top of his head. He started rocking back and forth, then dropped to his knees. “Whaddaya want, man? Whaddaya want? Look, she know me.” He aimed his chin at Shauna. “You know me, huh?”

“Oh, I know you all right,” she said. “You were in my shop, telling me secrets, remember? Trading secrets for cookies—does that ring a bell?”

Banjo rolled his head from shoulder to shoulder and squeezed his eyes shut for a couple seconds. “Aww, man, aww, I be takin’ stuff, ya know? Takin’ stuff—I—I don’t know.” As he jabbered, he got to his feet, lowered his hands, and took a step forward.

Danyon grabbed him again and threw him back up against the wall. Banjo dropped into a squat and clasped his hands together as though he were praying. “Don’t kill me, okay, man? Please, don’t kill me. I didn’t do nothin’, I don’t know nothin’, I swear!”

“If you don’t know anything and didn’t do anything,” Shauna said, “then why did you take off running when you saw me?”

“I don’t know. I do that—I just do that.”

A street light near the entrance of the alley cast muted white light over Shauna’s shoulder and had settled on Banjo. Danyon saw he had broken into a heavy sweat, and his body was shaking violently. Either he was really nervous, or Banjo was going through withdrawals. Which ever it was gave Danyon an advantage.

Wearing heavy black boots, Danyon lifted a foot and parked it between Banjo’s legs, right on his groin.

“Oh, no, man, not them! You can’t do that, bro. It ain’t right—it just ain’t right!”

Banjo squirmed beneath his foot, and Danyon added a bit more pressure to the guy’s genitals. “We need some information, and we need it fast. And you’re going to cough it up.”

“I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about! I already told you I don’t know nothin’. I swear, nothin’! Why you been after me?”

“Because you came into my store, wanting to trade secrets for cookies, talking about three dead mice—no teeth—no big fingernails,” Shauna fumed. “I know you were talking about the weres, and I want to know what you know about them. How did you know they didn’t have fangs or claws? How?”

“I don’t know whatchu talkin’ about. I went in the store ’cause, like, I was hungry, and the other lady that’s there, she always feedin’ me and stuff. I was—I was hungry. I thought I could get a cookie if I said that. I was hungry, so I said it, you know? They smelled so good and—”

Danyon pressed his foot down even harder.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, man! You gonna bust ’em. Stop! I told you the trut’. I was just hungry.”

“How did you know about the weres?” Danyon asked.

“What was all that about? The three blind mice and no teeth? You knew about the weres, didn’t you?”

“How did you know?” Shauna added.

Banjo shook his head, greasy brown hair falling into his eyes. “Word on the street, just word on the street.”

“Whose word?” Shauna asked. “Who told you about the weres?”

He shook his clasped hands, an adamant prayer for mercy. “Look, I swear to Gawd, I don’t know nothin’. I musta been talkin’ out the side of my neck. I swear, I don’t know!”