Logan: Chosen Champions Book One, page 2
Aleron scoffed as Scout leaped from the wall and sprinted toward the door. He returned a few moments later with a couple of large pizza boxes and a tied plastic bag. No doubt Aleron had ordered a few extras for them. The griffin liked to pretend to be a snob where food was concerned, but he liked a fried mozzarella stick as much as the rest of them.
They took the pizzas upstairs to the break room and devoured them without very much talking. It had been a long day, and they’d been training since early afternoon.
“Want to go another round?” Gideon asked.
“No, we’ve done enough. Take the night—” Their cell phones pinged with incoming messages before he could finish his thought. Logan grabbed his and made note of the coordinates. “Scratch that. Looks like we’ve got work to do.”
2
Bailey
The booth at the back of the bar was overcrowded as always, and Bailey’s friends had started drinking without him. His all-black clothes concealed him for a moment, but when they noticed him standing there, a small cheer sounded.
“Bails!”
They squeezed together further, adding enough space for his left butt cheek. Not that he cared. He shrugged his backpack off his shoulders and tucked it against his chest before squishing himself in beside them.
Ashley leaned over and whispered in his ear, “Heather has a wardrobe malfunction. Please tell me you have a safety pin in your Mary Poppins bag.”
“You know I do.” Bailey dug into the front pocket and pulled out a small tin. He plucked out a couple of different-sized safety pins and handed them across the table.
“You’re my hero,” Heather said. “I knew the button on these shorts was loose, but I thought… Anyway, the zipper won’t stay up without the button and…”
“Don’t worry, Heather,” Joey quipped. “I like you with or without shorts.”
She elbowed him in the side before shoving her way out of the booth. Everyone groaned but shifted around so she could wiggle free and dash toward the bathroom. Luckily they were close to it at the back of the bar, so she didn’t have to worry about getting through the crowded room with her hand clutching her shorts to keep them from falling down.
While he had the bag open, Bailey grabbed a protein bar and handed it to Ashley. “Eat. And that better not be alcohol.”
His glare had her lowering her gaze. “It’s… fine. It’s a drink. Gah, you’re such a dad. How old are you again? Forty?”
“Twenty-four, thank you very much. And I know you don’t like to eat before a show, but you’ve gotta eat right after, Ashley, and not drink booze first. You remember—”
She groaned and dropped her head onto his shoulder before he could remind her what happened the last time she’d gone to the bar for a “few drinks” after a show without eating. Needless to say, it hadn’t been a good time for any of them. She reached for the protein bar without any further argument. After ripping it open, she raised her head and took a bite.
“You sure you can’t come back and do another show, Bailey?” The others grew quiet at Joey’s question.
Bailey looked around with a smile. “I’m just the stage manager. You’ll all put on an amazing show without me, and I’ll be there in the audience. You’ll know it’s me ’cause I’ll be the first one standing for the ovation.”
His announcement didn’t please any of them. They’d gotten close over the past year of rehearsal after endless rehearsal. He’d been hired as the part-time stage manager for a local dinner theater and had quickly been promoted to the full-time role. Since the theater worked with the local college’s performance program, he’d gotten to know quite a few of the students.
Funny thing was, he was a student too, even if it had taken him a few extra years to get his degree. But he’d finally done it. His BS in business administration was ready to be framed and hung on his wall.
Although it had been a gamble, he’d gone ahead and quit his job at the theater. He worked nights, and since he hoped to have a few interviews lined up soon, he didn’t want to be sleep-deprived while trying to answer the same questions over and over again. He’d likely yawn his way through the process and never get a job.
Besides, after the last few years of working full-time while also going to school full-time, he could use a few weeks off. Even if those weeks were going to be spent in his crappy apartment with books and movies checked out from the local library as his entertainment.
He’d love to afford an actual vacation one day. His only childhood vacations had been to his grandparents’ farm. And they always ended up being working vacations, because even the kids had to help pick vegetables and get them ready for the massive canning projects they undertook every year.
He was the oldest of his four siblings, and the older he’d grown, the more he’d realized how much his family depended on that food. It sucked, realizing how poor your family was. He’d paid for every college class on his own, with the help of a few scholarships and grants. There’d been no dance classes or voice lessons for him. Heck, he’d not even had time to participate in sports. After school, he’d gone to his part-time job; then he’d gone straight home to help his siblings with dinner and their homework.
It meant he had a really hard time fitting in and finding friends. And funnily enough, it was why he knew it was time to move on. He liked the theater crowd. He did. But they weren’t his group. They’d started depending on him a lot, and it wouldn’t be good for any of them.
He hadn’t found where he belonged yet, and now that he finally had the shiny degree in his hand, he wanted to stretch his wings and fly.
Bailey took a deep breath and shook off the encroaching blues. He refused to feel sorry for himself, not when he was ready to get his life started. He always felt this way when he needed to make a change. He was going to miss the hell out of them, though.
“Where’s Heather?” Bailey suddenly realized she’d never returned from her trip to the bathroom.
Ashley shrugged. “She probably found someone to dance with, and speaking of, will you watch my bag so I can go dance too?” She waved the empty protein wrapper in front of his face, as if she needed to prove she’d actually eaten. If he didn’t know she appreciated the effort he made to make sure she had food, he’d be annoyed. That was the problem with having sassy friends. They were always sassy.
“Sure. See if you can find Heather first, though, okay?”
Ashley nodded. “I’ll wave if I find her.”
She dashed to the other side of the bar, where a small dance floor had been set up. It wasn’t much, and it wasn’t exactly a dimly lit club, but there never seemed a shortage of dancers. Of course, this wasn’t the kind of bar where they started belting out slow songs or where couples hooked up in the back room either.
In fact, the street was lined with bars, and a couple of those dark ones with back rooms were at the other end of the block. Their group preferred this one. They spent enough time in a darkened theater. They liked light for the after-party.
“I got you a water,” Will said, sliding into the booth across from Bailey and interrupting his random train of thought. Will pushed the bottle across the table with a hangdog expression on his face.
Bailey honestly hadn’t even noticed he’d walked away. Will currently sat at the very bottom of his friends list, having lost quite a few friend points earlier in the day.
“Thanks.” Bailey waited, unwilling to accept a bottle of water as an apology.
Will did the very manly head-tilt thing that said, “Don’t mention it,” but the gesture was really a thank-you to Bailey for not saying anything about Will’s tantrum earlier in the evening before the show started.
As the show’s stage manager, Bailey usually arrived an hour or so before everyone else. He prepped the backstage area, verified all props were present and accounted for, and went through the rest of his preshow checklist before the cast arrived and the distractions began.
Will had already been at the door when Bailey arrived, though. Well, technically he’d been slumped against it, hungover and barely able to stand. Bailey had gotten him inside and thrown him into the shower area in the janitor’s closet. It was crude and mostly meant for hosing things down, but the cold spray worked well for sobering Will up.
Of course, Bailey had been called so many names in those few short minutes that his feelings had actually gotten hurt. He glanced at the glass sitting in front of Will. It appeared to be nothing more than soda.
While he waited for Will to muster up the words for his apology, Bailey looked back toward the dance floor and saw Ashley in a crowd. Heather wasn’t with her.
“Bailey.” Will’s low voice caught his attention. “I’m sorry, man. Really.”
It would be so easy to brush it off and say something inane like, “That’s okay,” or “No worries.” But he couldn’t. Because this was it for him with them. His last hurrah as their stage manager and the one who looked out for them. He wouldn’t be invited for nights out anymore.
It wasn’t that they didn’t like him. It was that he wouldn’t be a core part of the group. Nights like this were meant for cast and crew. He wouldn’t be part of the foundation. And before long, they’d all graduate and move on, anyway. Bailey had decided it would be better for him if he left while he was ahead.
“I accept your apology.”
“But?”
“No but. You know what you did was wrong, Will. That’s what hurt the most about it. You hurt me on purpose.”
“And now I feel like shit again.”
“That’s the booze talking.”
“I’m not drinking tonight. I feel like death warmed over already.”
Bailey couldn’t help his smirk.
“I saw that.”
“Yeah, I know. Serves you right.”
“Jerk.”
“Really? We’re going with name-calling again?”
Will dropped his head back against the booth and groaned. “Dammit. You’re going to use this against me forever.”
“Go dance with your friends, Will. Sweat out the rest of that booze.”
“Yeah, yeah. You should come. No one will bother your bag.”
“I’m good.”
Will stood but came over to Bailey’s side of the booth. “I’ve offered to teach you to dance, Bails.”
Bailey ignored the low, husky tone.
Yeah, Will was hot—leading-man levels of hot. But all he wanted was sex, and Bailey… well, his previous excuses had all been that he didn’t want to mess around with someone he worked with. What would his excuse be now?
“Pretty sure our director would be very upset if I broke his lead actor’s foot. I’d better pass, because I’m sure Brent would hunt me down.”
“Sure. But you really should come dance with us, Bails. You and I both know you’re not planning on coming back.”
Bailey managed a small smile. “Figured that out, did you?”
Will leaned down and whispered in Bailey’s ear, “I know a good actor when I see one. Now come dance with us, and I swear I won’t hit on you again.”
After putting the girls’ handbags in his backpack for safekeeping, Bailey tucked the bag into the shadowy depths of the booth and followed Will. Their servers knew their group and wouldn’t let anyone else have the table. And besides, he wouldn’t be out dancing for long. He always felt like a fish flopping on a deck when he made the attempt. Graceful and elegant he was not.
Will cut through the crowd, and Bailey followed in his wake. He’d never understood that ability some people had where everyone parted like Moses and the Red Sea when they came close.
Bailey would have ended up knocked around like a pinball if he’d tried to cut through the center of the crowd like that. Will had that kind of charisma, though. It’s what made him a good leading man, and when he tried, a good friend.
Will reached back and grabbed Bailey’s hand, making sure they didn’t get separated as they made their way to the other side of the dance floor, closest to the DJ booth. That move, more than anything else, earned Bailey’s forgiveness for Will’s earlier outburst.
When they reached the others, Bailey found Heather and her newly pinned shorts getting her groove on with Ashley. He let out a sigh of relief.
No, he wasn’t their dad, but they weren’t wrong when they accused him of acting in a parental role toward them. Maybe it was because he was the oldest of his siblings and had been taking care of others his entire life. It was simply his nature.
The music changed, the guy running the music booth having recognized their group, and a Broadway classic came on. The girls laughed and cheered the DJ, who immediately blushed under their attention… which was exactly why he changed the song when he saw them on the dance floor.
No one seemed to care, and Heather’s beaming smile was all the reward the young man needed. This time, it was “You Can’t Stop the Beat” from Hairspray, and even the guys joined in, bellowing out the lyrics as they danced around like maniacs.
Bailey laughed when Will grabbed him and spun him around, only for Heather to catch him in her arms. She did some complicated spin while holding his hand, then twirled into him and pecked a kiss on his cheek before disappearing once more.
Then Joey scooped him up and did some complicated dance step that he managed to lead Bailey into following. A large dip completed that maneuver, and Bailey’s head almost touched the floor. He laughed and clung to Joey, but Joey simply pulled him back up with a grin.
By the time the song ended, they were all laughing and out of breath. They headed back to their booth, but when they all slid into place, Bailey noticed Ashley wasn’t with them.
He glanced at the dance floor again, but she wasn’t there either. “Heather, have you seen Ashley?”
“She went to the bathroom.”
The hair on Bailey’s arms rose. “I’m going to go check on her.”
“I’m sure she can pee without you, Bails.” Joey laughed.
Bailey hesitated for a moment, but he knew he had to go. “Something’s wrong.”
Will looked up. “I’ll come with you.”
“Me too,” Heather added.
Joey followed, and the four of them hurried to the small hallway that shielded the doors to the bathrooms. Ashley stood in the hallway with a large dark-haired man holding on to her arms. She swayed against him and nearly fell.
“Ashley!”
The man looked up and snarled.
“Get your hands off of her,” Bailey demanded. “Heather, get security. Now.”
She ran off without question as Bailey marched forward. The guy practically growled as Bailey approached, but he took his hands off Ashley’s arms and backed up a step. She slumped backward, and only the stranger’s quick action kept her from falling.
Bailey realized he hadn’t been hurting her, he’d been holding her up. Bailey hurried closer and pulled her against him, taking her weight from the stranger.
“Ashley, talk to me.”
“Bails,” she slurred. “I’m… I’m… I feel funny.”
Then she tried to kiss him.
Bailey turned his head at the last second and wrapped his arms around her. He pretended he didn’t feel her attempting to hump his thigh. She would be mortified if she knew what she was doing.
“What happened?” He glared at the big guy, wishing for once in his life that he knew how to fight. He’d find whoever hurt Ashley, punch the jackass right in the face, then kick him in the balls for good measure.
“I don’t know.” Dude’s voice was low and growly, but also rang with truth. “I found her like that.”
Bailey took a second to think about the stranger’s claim of innocence and decided to believe him. The way he’d been standing when they approached was protective, not aggressive. And he’d moved away the moment he realized they were Ashley’s friends. Bailey’s gut hadn’t led him wrong yet, and he trusted his instincts. It didn’t matter that the guy was one of the hottest men Bailey had ever seen in his entire life. Hot or not, his ass was grass if he’d laid a hand on Bailey’s friend.
“Sure you did,” Will said, as angry and defensive as Bailey.
“Will,” Ashley purred, turning her attention to their friend. “You’re so hot.”
“She’s been drugged, Bailey.” Joey gasped. “Holy shit.”
Heather returned with the bar’s lone security guy a second later. He took one look at the size of the dark-haired dude and his eyes widened. Considering the security guard looked about as tough as a wet mop and Mr. Growly Hot could probably bench press him, Bailey wasn’t surprised by the show of fear.
“Uh… maybe I should call the cops,” Security Guy offered.
“You should,” Bailey said. “She’s been drugged.”
The big guy made a noise, drawing Bailey’s attention to him again. He looked… worried, but his eyes were on Ashley.
“She needs medical attention,” the guy said.
“We’ll call an ambulance.”
The guy made another face. Something weird was going on here, and Bailey planned on finding out what.
3
Logan
“Split up,” Logan commanded as he entered the bar, his voice low enough only his team would hear him. “Keep your eyes open and stay in communication.”
Gideon, Aleron, and Scout scattered while Logan scanned the interior of the bar, looking for what had triggered the oracle’s message. A long wooden bar lined one wall. Logan used its mirrored back to his advantage, checking out the customers who stood around it waiting on their orders.
Luckily, they weren’t in one of those pitch-black bars lit only by the flashing lights above the dance floor. Logan loathed places like that, and he’d had to go in more than he’d ever wanted to in his lifetime.
This one, though, was more of a pub. The customers were young, probably from the local college, if their Greek-lettered sweatshirts and team jerseys were any clue.
Logan took quick stock of the situation. Nothing jumped out at him, which wasn’t odd in and of itself. If the scene had been that severe, the hellhounds would likely have been called. Besides, he’d rather have to hunt than walk into a bloodbath. He’d seen firsthand what out-of-control shifters could do.
