Gus Waters Novels & Stories

Unless. "Alpha Grayson."

Impossible! This was absolutely impossible! He was Webster Shaw. He had taken care of everything for so many years, so how could he... As he thought of it…. He immediately dialed a number. It rang for a long time before the call was connected. He yelled anxiously, “Mr. Waters, what’s going on? Why am I—” However, before he finished speaking, there was a loud noise on the other end of the phone. “Grover Waters, you’re being suspected of inappropriate benefit transfer. Come with us!”

He knew what he could certainly do, and what he might do if he was lucky, and what he couldn’t do barring a miracle. The problem with Gus was that he regarded himself as the miracle, in such situations. He treated danger with light contempt or open scorn, and scorn was about all he seemed to have for Pedro Flores, although Pedro had held onto his stony empire through forty violent years. Of course, when trouble came Gus was reliable, but the only man in the outfit who was really much help as a planner . was Deets. Nobody expected Deets to talk, which left him free to pay attention, and he paid careful attention, often

He needed to go and wash up to get the scent of musk off him and the dried evidence. "Why do the best moments in life always end up being the ones that entail the most work?" He muttered, wincing as aches traversed through his body. "And he needs to keep the water nearer." The room where the water was filtered wasn't far. But when one was in pain, it felt like a hundred miles. Even the walk to the door had him breathing heavily.

The bartender, a grizzled old werewolf named Gus, was already reaching for the bottle of hellfire whiskey he kept stashed under the counter for whenever my father or I came knocking. "Your Highness," he growled respectfully, sliding a glass across the polished wood. "To what do we owe the pleasure?" I knocked back the whiskey in one smooth motion, savouring the burn as it scorched my throat. "I'm looking for a rat, Gus. Goes by the name of Azazel. Seen him?" Gus's eyes darted nervously around the room. "Can't say that I have, Your Highness. But you know how it is – I see a lot of faces come through here."