Chapter 2 Everyone needs a break

The endeavor proved to be worth it. He initially began programming WolfMoon as a means for the supernatural world to communicate incognito as it were, but normals loved it. Role-playing was a huge and lucrative business.

The whole thing was an enormous undertaking, and it required a lot of time. He now had over a dozen people, Werewolves of course, on his team and they handled a lot of the day-to-day dealings. He was a success.

WolfMoon generated a lot of money for himself and the Pack via in-app upgrades and advertisements, not to mention merchandising deals. He should be ecstatic or at the very least, satisfied, but lately Randall felt restless.

"Fuck, I need a run!" Dib stood up and stretched, interrupting Randall's wandering thoughts.

"Yeah, I hear you. A long run through the backwoods and a big ass steak sounds about right. Look man, I didn't mean to snap at you," he said.

"It's cool. But, uh, we gotta talk to the boss first. You know? Come on man, don't leave me hanging!" Dib offered him a high five which he met with a loud resounding smack.

He was good at what he did. Hell, he was the best, but this hacker fuck, well, he was pretty damn good too. Too good to be working for the enemy.

Skoll's cronies were getting more sophisticated. He discovered the source of this latest attack on the Pack's system. The guy entered with a silent cloning virus, designed to duplicate information on the closed-circuit inter-Pack communication software Randall had personally developed. It was used by the entire Pack, but the section targeted was reserved for his Alpha, Rafe Maccon, and his Wolf Guard only.

The bastard shouldn't have even known of its existence. He knew how he got the information almost as soon as he realized what he was after. Liam, the youngest of the Guard, had misplaced his cell over the weekend at The Thirsty Dog. He informed Randall by way of Dib after the alarm started.

The Thirsty Dog was a local bar and favorite of Pack members. Probably because the owner was a Werewolf and catered to the supernatural crowd with ease and competence. Randall ventured out rarely, but on occasion he did enjoy the collection of local brewed and distilled beers and liquors.

It didn't hurt that their buffalo wings were killer. But still, he was more a homebody. He didn't like crowds and he didn't like groupies. The normals who went there, or their females anyway, were pretty much willing to bed any Wolf in the joint. He wasn't calling them out for it, but he had little use for women these days.

Anyway, he ripped Liam a new one for losing his damn cell and for not reporting it immediately as was their protocol. The kid needed to be more careful. Couldn't let a pretty face distract you when the fate of the whole Pack was in your hands. And as a Wolf Guard, it was their job to protect the Pack, be ready when the Alpha called, and heed his word.

"Come on, man. Rafe's gonna want an update like ten minutes ago." Dib was staring at him as if he sprouted another head. Randall figured he was wasting too much time anyway.

Randall understood Liam's difficulty. The pup had succumbed to the wiles of a short, red head with a tattoo of a heart between her perfectly supple breasts. She went by the name Trixie. Randall had intimate knowledge of said tattoo, but he didn't have the heart to tell Liam.

Trixie was a normal. And as with most human women, she was indescribably attracted to Werewolves without knowing exactly why. She'd made her way around the Pack Wolves pretty damn quickly. As Liam later learned without Randall's direct interference.

It was no skin off Randall's nose. He was not in love with the girl. She was a groupie of sorts, a user, and he took what she offered once. Only once, to her profound befuddlement. Randall had repeatedly said no thanks the next few times around and she now made it a point to snub him whenever he ran into her. Which was, unfortunately, any time he went to The Thirsty Dog. Hence his new habit of staying home all the time.

Women. Randall had one use for them and lately that had been less frequent than he'd have liked. He was losing his taste for meaningless encounters, but there had never been anything other than that in his life. Love was simply not in his cards. Except for Cat, Rafe's sister and a fellow Wolf Guard, and Charley, Rafe's wife, he could do without the entire female race.

"You coming or what?" Randall looked up at the sound of Dib's annoyed voice. He forgot the man was waiting for him. Fuck. He needed a nap or a coffee, or maybe he should get Trixie to give him another go. Nah. She was used goods and he no longer had the taste for it.

"Yeah, yeah. Let me install this new firewall I've been working on and tell everyone to turn in their phones. I'll have a new batch ready by tonight," Randall glared at his redheaded Packmate.

"Randall, come on man."

"I said I need a minute. You go ahead and tell the big man to stay calm. Those bastards should have never gotten this far into my system. Fucking hardware support asshats assured me these phones were impenetrable. Fuck 'em. I'm going with the new prototype from Japan. My contact there said the new phones are outfitted with a titanium core. They can't be hacked or cloned."

"Dude, I got no idea what the hell you're saying," Dib backed away from an increasingly annoyed Randall. An annoyed Randall soon became an angry Randall, and no one wanted that.

Homeboy was gonna blow a gasket if he didn't learn to relax. Dib shook his head, his unruly red mane stuck up in odd places as he walked away hands up in mock surrender. He wondered what the Alpha would say if he suggested a little vacay for the badass super geek. Hmmm...