He Has No Scent

Looking down at the box in his hand, he was surprised to see that it was the exact same as what the A.M.K had given them every month for the past few years.

"I'm impressed," grunted Damien, turning it over in his hands. It even came with an expiry date and a production number.

Either this guy was getting it straight from the company itself, or he was really good at selling his drugs.

"No, you aren't. But that is fine. You know where the exit is," grunted the Dealer, clearly no longer interested in being cordial.

"What about the payment?" asked Damien with a smirk. The word on the street was that he never asked for a payment. It was what set him apart from all of the other dealers. But that was impossible. These things were worth a fortune, especially out here on the streets.

"They're free, which you know because your sister already told you," replied the Dealer. He still stood in the shadows even now, refusing to show Damien his face. But if he really thought that he would be able to get away from the pack, he had another thing coming.

"Somehow, you don't strike me as someone that stupid," shrugged Damien, in no rush. The man in front of him wasn't going anywhere except through him, and even if he were able to do that, he would still need to get past the rest of them.

There was the sound of an aerosol can spraying before the man stepped out into the light.

"I am not the bad guy here," said the Dealer, coming into the light. His hands were held out to his sides, showing that he wasn't armed. "And if you keep going down this route, you are just going to piss her off more."

"Her?" asked Damien, confused. He studied the man in front of him. He looked like something from a GQ magazine rather than the picture Damein had in his head.

What drug dealer didn't look like a drug dealer?

Damien already knew the answer to that one. When you were dealing with someone high up in the organization.

"Ah, no wonder she doesn't think that highly of wolves. You are always running around chasing your tail instead of seeing what is right in front of your snout. But that's fine. You don't need to see it anyways," chuckled the Dealer, one hand in his dress pants pocket.

The wolf inside of Damien rose, not liking the lack of respect in the other man's tone. While the wind wasn't cooperating to be able to scent him, he knew enough to know that the man wasn't a wolf.

The wolves were kings of this territory, and while other shifters were permitted to live here, they could be just as easily kicked out if they didn't show proper respect for those who ruled.

"Trying to figure out how to punish me for not submitting?" chuckled the man; he leaned against the giant trash bin beside him, looking completely confident.

"Hardly," shrugged Damien, trying to pull his wolf back. "More just trying to figure out why you think you can deal in our territory."

"Probably because this is not your territory," laughed the man like he had just heard the funniest thing ever.

"Would you like to try that statement again?" asked a new man as he approached Damien from behind.

Damien bowed his head to Raphael and stepped to the side, showing a difference to his alpha. While Raphael normally didn't require these actions from his inner circle, Damien and the others still insisted on doing it around outsiders.

"Alpha," nodded the Dealer. His casual pose didn't change, but he didn't ignore Raphael either. It was the bare minimum amount of respect that someone should show toward the Alpha.

But for some reason, it didn't bother Raphael's wolf as much as he thought it would.

"Are you the one selling the Heat Suppressants?" asked Raphael; he studied the man in front of him. His wolf wanted to exercise caution, knowing that the man could be a threat if pressed far enough, but he also felt the same way the other guys felt like to him.

It was a strange situation, one that he had never experienced after he formed his inner circle.

"I am. But that is simply because we wanted to make sure the females still got what they needed," shrugged the man.

"We? Who are we?" asked Raphael, a small smile on his face.

"Ah, you want my secrets, huh? Not going to happen. You might control your pack, but you know nothing about the world around you outside of it."

"That's the second time you mentioned we aren't seeing what is in front of us. Why don't you just tell us? Enough of all the riddles and shit," grunted Lucien as he stepped out of the shadows.

Even being outnumbered, the Dealer didn't flinch.

He was about to open his mouth when a phone started to vibrate.

"Yes?" answered the Dealer, his eyes never leaving the three men in front. "Understood. I'll look into it. Should we let the wolves know?" The smirk on his face widened as he stared at Raphael. "All good. Just thought I would ask."

A few seconds later, the man hung up the phone and turned his attention back to the three men. "Well, this has been fun. But I have to run. Hopefully, we won't be doing this same song and dance next time we meet."

The man stepped forward as if he were expecting Raphael and Damien to part to let him through. However, Raphael held up a hand, stopping him.

"If you think that you are leaving this alley alive, you have another thing coming. We don't put up with Dealers in our territory. There is only one way to get out of here, and that is in a body bag," smiled Raphael, his deminer never changing.

"Ah, but my Boss has asked me to look into something, and I can't deny her," shrugged the man like it wasn't that big of a deal.

Lucien growled, stepping forward. But the man stepped back and simply… disappeared.

"What the fuck?" grunted Lucien, looking around everywhere. The shadows were preventing him from being able to make out anything.

Stepping forward again, he looked down to see a pile of clothes in front of him. However, even after kicking them a few times, nothing came out.

"I would have put money on him being a bear," grunted Damien, leaning against the wall beside him. "He had the attitude of one of them."

"Yes, but do you notice something?" pointed out Raphael. He walked forward until he was standing beside Lucien and then crouched down, picking up the shirt. Bringing it to his nose, he took in a deep breath. "He has no scent."