Part 2 of An Interview with Fane Anghelescu, Alpha Hellhound

Fane’s stare was really quite unnerving, I decided. I knew that he had only recently lost his sister, roughly five months ago, and that she had been the reason why he had sworn himself to serve his Queen. Yet, here he sat, no longer in service to her, clearly very much in control of the situation. While his sister had lived, the motorbike workshop had produced the sort of typical custom motorbikes seen all around the USA. It had been a convenient cover for their activities. Yet in under six months, it was clear that the business had undergone a significant change. The British bikes? Where had that come from? I knew enough about them to know that what was in the showroom represented a small fortune to collectors of specific marques.

Again, a brow twitched as Fane took a long drink from his own mug of coffee. “Well, I am waiting. You asked for this interview, remember?”

I nodded. Yes, that I had, but my curiosity had been piqued. Also, his attitude. I mean, he is all about the brooding hero. Clearly he wasn’t the typical Hellhound, because of what had happened between him and Stefania along with his reaction to his sister’s death. But that attitude, bordering on a non-verbal ‘piss off’, it also raised my own hackles. The number of times had I had sat facing a customer with that same ‘I am seeing you under sufferance only’ attitude, and yes, I was going to react just as I had with customers. It was a challenge to me, plain and simple.

I indicated the bikes out in the showroom. “So, are the British bikes an indication that you have changed Chain & Sprocket to your preference, rather than your sister’s choice?” It was sort of one the questions on my original list, but not the exact wording.

The mug of coffee slammed down. “That was not on your list of questions, human.” The attitude took a downhill slide very abruptly. “That was the deal. I would answer a selection of questions from your list.”

“So, is this reaction part of the impression that you wish to make on people when they first meet you?” Hey, what’s the worst he could do to me, I asked myself? Well, other than kill me.

Fane stood. Standing upright he was intimidating. The step forward towards me made him even more so. “You really seem to struggle with this concept that I … am … a … Hellhound.” He smiled. A cold smile. A killer’s smile. “I could lose my temper, but that would mean that I would set the smoke alarms off. Humans do make a lot of smoke when they burn, you know?” From snarling to a pleasant conversational tone. Jekyll and Hyde much indeed, I thought, recalling how Stefania had described him in “Bound”.

“Clearly you like to intimidate.” I was recalling the way I had stood up to one of my teachers in school, when my class-mates thought he was going to tear into me. I may have been shaking inside then, just like I was now, but damned if I was going to show it. “Do you maintain that attitude once someone knows you more?”

For a moment, Fane glared at me, before he resumed his seat. He took another long slurp from his coffee mug. “You are ballsy; I will give you that.” He commented. “So, yes, in answer to your question. I like to push people on a first meeting. It is interesting to see how they react. Do they expect a stereotypical Hellhound Alpha, or do they know that I am playing them? You know a bit like a cat plays with a mouse.” He scrunched up a sheet of paper into a ball, tossing it from one hand to another. “You know, bat you around, a bit like this paper, until …” The ball of paper was dropped to the floor, and the decidedly large biker boot landed on it with a resolute thud. “… until bam! Squashed.” He smiled, that predator’s smile. “Or maybe not. Maybe I will be nice. Maybe I will let you walk out of that door.” He picked up the squashed paper ball, and tossed it into the bin. “Next question.”

“Right.” I nodded. “So, what’s the worst thing that’s happened in your life? What did you learn from it?” I tapped the stylus on the top of my iPad. “I am going to take a guess it was something to do with your sister.”

“Very clever, human. You are right. The worst thing was the realisation that I didn’t have to swear myself into the virtual slavery of being an Alpha in service to a former bride of the Hunter.” Another pause as he drank from the coffee mug. “My dam raised me in the expectation that I had what it took to be an Alpha. She knew that much. But, she believed that the only way for me to be an Alpha was to swear my oath the our now former Queen. Until Roxana died, that was my belief also. But, what I didn’t allow for was that my sister was also a Hellhound. We are not some pathetic Hollywood wolf-shifter species. We are Hellhounds. My sister was more than capable of protecting herself. The question is whether I would have learnt enough without the Queen’s training of me to beat Aurelija and take the title of Alpha?”

“And the second part of the question? What did you learn from it?” I was dogged in my determination.

“What did I learn from the experience?” I learned that I must know my Pack. I must know their capabilities and I must be ready to trust that, with the correct encouragement, they will act in the way that I need them. Then again, if Roxana hadn’t made her opposition to my former Queen so clear, would the bitch have killed her?” He gave another bark of laughter. “I might still be in service to her. Now there’s a thought.”