I scanned over the barroom. The crowd was starting to thin out as the people who came thinking the ‘club’ part of our name meant this was one of those hedonistic, deafening clubs like the ones downtown, realized this was just a run-of-the-mill biker bar. I told Ren and Lynn that it wasn’t a good idea to keep the ‘club’ part in the name, but it got people in the door, so it wasn’t all bad.
Walt was at the bar, instead of sitting in Tabby’s section. That was good. It meant less chance of him bothering her, that didn’t mean I wouldn’t keep an eye on him, though. The group of werewolves Pablo warned me about were goofing off around their table by the pool tables.
They looked young. Early to mid twenties, I’d guess. There were five of them. All of them did seem as tall as Jimmy and Slava. I
