But the gig pays a hell of a lot of money and hey, a gig is a gig. The amount offered astonished all of us in the band, until we actually step on stage. The place is small, but packed, worn down, well past its better days, but clean. It’s the crowd that gives me the first prickling of warning. We’ve dealt with biker types, frat boy douche bags—every idiot crowd you can imagine. I am not prepared for wolves disguised as bikers. They stand about expectantly, all in jeans and leather. Long hair abounds, and each and every face looks like they could kill a man without blinking. But that’s where any familiarity to any biker I’ve ever seen stopped. These wolves are HAWT! Like male supermodel hot. Which is weird for werewolves. In my experience, werewolves are a mangy bunch, and generally monotonous. These guys come in every color of the human rainbow, which makes very little sense. Due to their cliquish nature, wolves tend to be one thing or another as a whole. Not saying they’re all prejudiced, just more likely to hang with their own kind.
