Roman and his crew sat around near the main bar, eyeing me with pissed-off expressions as I showed up to their little party uninvited.

“We’re closed,” Roman said. “And we aren’t racing in this storm.” I reached behind me, doing a little hand trick that made my weapon appear. It wasn’t the most deadly weapon I had. That title belonged to a double-headed battle ax as tall as a man. I wasn’t looking to kill though. I was looking to scare and subdue.

I thought a bit of flash might save me from having to kill a few to make my point, and the whip was certainly flashy. It was made with a mix of small hooked blades interspaced with the bones of more than one human vertebral column. It was showy and deadly in the right hands. My hands had been cracking this beast for more than a thousand years and I could make it play the fiddle or dance a jig if I wanted.

The whip snaked out as I swung it around, flicking my wrist to make the human spine wrap around Roman’s throat. If I had used just a little more flick, the small blades would have latched in and tore like a chainsaw. As it was, he only got the cold bone.

Roman gasped and grabbed the bar edge, trying to keep himself from going to the floor. I jerked the spine whip with a growl, making him fall to his knees. The other wolves didn’t know what to do. Their eyes bugged on the boney whip fastened around their leader's throat. He wasn’t the alpha yet but he would be someday. That should have meant something to them but no one wanted to dance with this devil. I guess that made me their alpha, at least for tonight.

I wasn’t in the habit of pissing off potential powerful allies but sometimes I just couldn’t help myself. I stepped up to Roman, who was grabbing at the bone around his throat, trying to pry it off.

“You are but a little prince and I am a king of kings,” I growled in fury, feeling my Glasgow smile unspool, my mouth splitting open horrifically. The fires of Hell burned in my eyes.

“I’ve had plenty taken from me and I refuse to let anyone take what's mine again. You’ve no idea the lengths I’d go to for those I love.” I bent down, grabbing his face in my oversized hand and squeezing with enough strength that he realized this wasn’t a fight. Him and all his men didn’t stand a single chance. If they decided to try me, I’d be more than willing to turn this club into a slaughterhouse.

He ground his teeth, a growl snapping out from his mouth in rage. Roman wasn’t made to kneel but I made him do so regardless.

“Tell me where Remington is,” I demanded, fingers biting into his cheeks as I tightened the spine around his neck. Roman narrowed his eyes.