He’d been jumped once, just a couple of weeks ago. The young wolf had apparently taken Blacque on at the urging of his friends, who’d gathered in a loose circle around the two of them. They’d scattered after Blacque dangled the pup in the air, letting him down after several long moments. He was being watched as well by one or more wolves. Something would be coming down soon.
His sharp ear caught a catch in the sound of the engine, and he relaxed a bit, standing back and watching as a leather-clad rider coasted into the bay. It wasn’t Bleu. It wasn’t even a man, but it was certainly a vampire.
The rider pulled off her helmet, revealing chestnut brown hair in a neat braid. Her leathers were built for function—chaps over jeans and sturdy boots. She wasn’t out to play the femme fatale in that outfit. She was tall, lean, and for a woman, damn intimidating. Pretty enough, he supposed, but he’d think twice about pissing her off.
Bulging saddlebags were mounted on the sides of the bike, and her helmet had a smoked visor. Did she ride during the day? Her leather jacket was battered and worn and nearly perfect to his eyes.
“Hey…wolf.” She gave a sly grin and winked at him. Her clear blue eyes were full of mischief and good humor. Her skin was as parchment pale as Bleu’s, but her lips and cheeks had a healthy glow. She’d eaten fairly recently.
“I was riding into town, and my engine started giving me problems. I spotted your shop, thought maybe you could give me a hand. That is, if you’re still open.” She kicked the bike onto its stand and dismounted, giving the bike a rueful glare.
“She’s almost new. I haven’t had a moment of grief with her till now.”
Blacque gave her a smile. She reminded him of Drusilla with her cocky assuredness. Of course, Dru would never be caught wearing engineer boots. “Arcada has that effect on vehicles sometimes.” He wiped his hands on a rag and stepped up to the bike. “I’m not a motorcycle mechanic, though.”
“Damn. Is there someone in town who is?”
“No. Back a few miles in Southport. There’s probably a dealer.” If Blacque had to guess, if she continued into Arcada proper, the bike would run just fine. If she tried to leave, it’d give her problems. The town must like her.
“Well, I know a bit about mechanics if I could borrow some tools.”
“Have at it. I’ll give you a hand in a sec.” He ducked into the office, wrote up the paperwork on the truck, and then called the owner. All the while he kept an eye on the vampire out in his shop. No matter what they did, they’d find nothing wrong with the bike. It was simply a quirk of the region. She might be a vampire and more dangerous than a shark in the depths of the ocean, but instinctively he trusted her.
Nevertheless, he watched carefully. He wasn’t certain how vampires interacted with one another. This was Bleu’s territory, and he’d be up soon.
He knew exactly when she scented the other vampire. Walking out to join her, he saw her head come up. Her nostrils flared. For a moment, a feral gleam flashed in her crystalline eyes.
“I see that I’ve blundered into someone’s territory.” She rose cautiously, scanning the shop.
“He owns the shop next door.” Blacque squatted next to the sleek motorcycle and reached up to turn on the engine. It turned over and sputtered.
“You planning on staying around awhile?” He started the engine again.
“Well, no, I wasn’t planning to. But it looks like I don’t have much of a choice now.” Unlike Bleu, she didn’t try to feign being human. “This place is…different.”
“Yes, it is.” He revved the engine, paying more attention to the vampire than to the bike. “It’s a good place…peaceful. We pretty much leave each other alone.”
“Live and let live, eh?” She squatted back on her haunches and glared at the engine of the bike. She shot a glance at Blacque. “I don’t think your vamp’s been honoring that pledge, wolf. He’s fed off you. He left his mark in your blood.”
Dull heat stained his cheeks. “It was voluntary.”
She lifted a brow and grinned. “Yummy. That was probably fun.” She straightened and stood, hands on hips. “Well, since I’ll be here for a while, can you suggest a place I can stay? A place with heavy curtains?”
“Yeah, there’s a motel down closer to town. There are a few mom-and-pop kind of places too.” He stood, staring at her. “I’ve got a kid just starting here. He’s pretty good with machines. Bring the bike back here tomorrow, and I’ll have him take a look.” He folded his arms across his chest.
“Anything else I should know? Territory…local customs?”
He shrugged. “Don’t hunt inside the city limits. No aggression toward locals. There’re a couple of other vamps around, but I don’t know ’em. You can leave a note for Bleu if you want to let him know you’re in his territory.”
“Bleu? Oliver Bleu?” A slow smile spread across her face.
Blacque stifled his alarm and didn’t look away from the woman. “Blue for blue eyes. It’s a nickname.” He could see she didn’t believe him. “So, you have a name? A way he can contact you?”
“I’m April. No last name. If your Blue wants to talk to me, he can come and find me.”
The vampire straddled the bike and turned the engine over. “Hmm. Smooth as glass now.” She steadied the bike as she started to put her helmet back on. She’d swapped with a spare; this one had a clear visor. “I never caught your name.”
“Blacque.”
She threw back her head and laughed, but the dangerous edge gave way to good humor once again.
“Blacque and Bleu. Doesn’t get any better than that!” She pulled the helmet on and fastened it, then rolled the bike backward out of the shop. Within moments, she was on the highway, riding into town.
Blacque went back into his office to search for a sheet of paper to write a note for Bleu. A warning, he suspected. He folded it neatly and headed next door to the darkened shop. He slipped it under the door, hoping Bleu would notice it when he left…or returned. Blacque hadn’t seen the vampire around lately.
He scanned the empty parking lot, hoping to see Bleu’s motorcycle parked in the shadows somewhere, but it wasn’t there. Didn’t mean anything. Bleu usually pushed it into his shop when he returned for the night. He went back to his office and shut down for the night, all the while wondering what it was with vampires and motorcycles anyway.
Someone had been prowling on his turf.
Bleu shut off the engine of his Harley and removed his helmet, then glanced at the pink streaks of dawn on the horizon. He didn’t have much time. He slid from the back of the machine to the shadows like a great cat, watching, listening, and scenting the air.
He smelled werewolf, but that was to be expected. Blacque was there as well as the young male who was stalking him. There was another scent, wild and magic. That wasn’t a new scent, nor was it danger. It was Jason, the new mechanic.
There was the scent of a vampire.
In all his years in Arcada, the others had never bothered him. Those who’d hunted him had never successfully assailed him within town limits—that was the only reason he’d survived as long as he had.
He ghosted to the front of the building and then back to the rear door. The vampire had been here just hours ago. He’d never scented this one before, but the smell resonated through him. He rubbed his forehead, pushing back the fatigue that was settling over him. There wasn’t anything he could do at the moment, so he unlocked the door to his shop and grimaced at the unfinished job that was sitting in the middle of the workroom.
His foot struck something on the floor, and he looked down, frowning at the sheet of paper. He picked it up, closing his eyes as Blacque’s fragrance rose from the paper. He sniffed the note as though it had been perfumed and then headed through the darkness to the hidden entrance to his room.
He locked up behind himself and kicked off his boots, letting them lie on the floor where they would. He flipped on the light and rolled his eyes at the mess in the room. He’d dropped c
lothing on the floor, clean mixed with dirty. A dirty glass, its sides hazed with dried blood, was left near the bed.
Lovely. Just the sort of place you’d bring a date.
He collapsed onto the bed and stretched out his long, leather-clad legs. It wasn’t his usual kink, but when hunting, it was helpful to wear camouflage. He struggled out of the short leather jacket and tossed it to the foot of the bed. He’d pick up the room once the sun went down.
Tiny spots of blood spattered the white tank top he wore, and he frowned at them. If he didn’t soak the shirt, they’d stain. Since when did vampires worry about bloodstains on their wifebeaters? He shook out the paper, bracing himself to see what Blacque had to say. His stomach gave a tiny lurch.
Bleu, new vamp in town. Said her name’s April, acts like she knows you. Blacque.
Well, not much to say. There was a postscript.
She’s dangerous. Be careful.
Bleu folded the paper and set it to the side. Yves and his bounty hunters. He shook his head. They’d never managed to track him this far. When he’d moved to Arcada, it was as though they’d lost his scent. Obviously this April creature had picked it up. He’d been spending too much time outside the shelter of Arcada, haunting neighboring towns and cities, aggressively searching for food. He didn’t want to lose the little healing he’d gained with Blacque. Unfortunately he must have left a trail.
Before the dreams had started, he could skip a day or two without a problem. Now he needed to feed every day, sometimes more than once. The sleeplessness persisted, so he compensated by consuming more blood to bolster his strength. He’d found it necessary to range even farther out of the area. If he hunted too much in one location, he’d alarm the locals. That would be a bad thing indeed.
Bleu arched his back, intending to slip out of his leather pants, but the torpor of the day washed over him. Outside the sun had crested the horizon. For a moment, he fought the sensation, struggling to undress, to get covered. Finally surrendering, he exhaled, his eyes fluttering closed.
The lamp. He hadn’t turned off the lamp. He reached out and fumbled until he yanked the cord from the wall. He had a morbid fear of fire, and while an electric lamp didn’t have the same dangers as gas, it was still worrisome.
He drifted off, the scent of Blacque in his nostrils, the image of his face on Bleu’s mind. He slept, and his dreams were not of war.
Chapter 13
The attack wasn’t unexpected. Nevertheless, Blacque was not prepared. He’d come in early for work, just minutes after dawn. Scenting Bleu at the back entrance of the building, he’d lingered by the vampire’s motorcycle, drawing a deep breath and holding it. He exhaled in relief and started for the service entrance of his shop, only to spot a shadow to his left.
The blurred figure vaulted the bike and launched toward him almost before Blacque registered its presence. He clasped the wolf’s ruff and rolled with it, coming up on top. He pinned the wolf and snarled, letting fangs drop in his human mouth. Not many wolves could do a partial shift, but he and his sister had the ability. Their mother had as well. That realization set off an alarm at the back of his mind, but Blacque had something else to attend to first.
“Damn it, Trav—”
It wasn’t Travis. The wolf had gone passive in his grip, staring at him with eyes glazed with fear. Blacque looked at his hands. Long claws grew from the beds of his nails. Blacque gave a final snarl and then let the small changes fade. The figure he straddled shifted back to human. It was a young male Blacque vaguely recognized from the pack. In his human form, he looked nearly as terrified as he had as a wolf.
“Jeremy?” He shifted back so that he was resting on his heels, keeping the other man’s thighs trapped in place. “Mind telling me what the ninja attack is all about?”
“You know.”
“Remind me.” He glared at the surly face below him.
“Let me up first.” Blacque didn’t move, and he didn’t say anything. “Listen, I’m not gonna do anything else. I’m getting gravel in my ass.”
“You’re lucky you don’t get my boot up your ass.” Blacque rose easily and stood with one foot to either side of Jeremy Powter’s knees. He stared at the man’s naked body, automatically cataloging the muscular torso, the light dusting of hair over his lower belly. He avoided looking any lower.
Blacque slowly stepped away, blinking at a sudden thought. Was this to be the rest of his long life? Wanting yet never allowing himself to indulge? By all rights, he could take the younger wolf, dominate him, assert his authority sexually. He could take what he wanted and then walk away.
But that wasn’t really what he wanted. He wanted Bleu. He wanted the vampire, and not just for a short-term fling. He couldn’t think of that right now, even though Bleu’s cool scent still tickled his nostrils. He leaned back against the locked door, his arms crossed over his chest. Jeremy eyed him uneasily as he rose from the ground. Blood trickled down his skin from gravel burns.
“You’re all she talks about now.” The young wolf stood, staring at Blacque’s boot-clad feet. “What color hair will the baby have? Will it be a boy or girl?” His skin was red with embarrassment—or anger.
“Who are we talking about here, Jeremy?” He rested his head against the metal door, wondering when the next pissed-off wolf would show up on his doorstep.
“Debbie Sears. My fiancée.” He frowned and fisted his hands. “What’s wrong with me? Why would she pick you over me?”
Blacque wanted to groan. He wanted to pound his head against the door. Instead he turned and dug his keys from his pocket, opened the door, and led the younger wolf into the darkened room. He flipped on the lights and then unlocked the heavy bay doors. “Grab a pair of coveralls. I don’t need to keep looking at your naked ass.”
He rolled up the doors and headed to his office, listening to Jeremy dressing behind him.
Blacque flopped into his office chair and turned on his computer. As it booted up, Jeremy hovered in the doorway, the anger in his face burned away without fuel to keep it going.
“Has she talked to Alice?”
“No.”
Blacque frowned, trying to recall the girl he was talking about. Was she an offspring from Dane’s predecessor?
“You know, Dane’s not going to approve me for many local women, if any at all. The point is to add new DNA to the gene pool.”
Jeremy snorted in disbelief. “He’d be an idiot, then. Nobody else can do what you do.”
“Partial shifts? Drusilla can do it to. My mother did it as well.”
And that was the little message his brain had tried to warn him of. His mother wasn’t European—she was Native American. A chill ran up his skin. Dane wasn’t acting on sentiment—he was working on cold practicality. He and his sister were the last of their line. They weren’t the only shifters of their kind left in the world, but they were rare.
“I’m not interested in making trouble for committed couples.” He leaned back and propped his boots on the desk. So many issues were swirling through his brain right now, but at the moment, only one had any import at all.
“You attacked me.” He gazed steadily at the younger man.
Jeremy remained standing, trying to keep the advantage by remaining higher than Blacque. Like he cared? He rocked the chair back a little farther.
“Didn’t know what else to do.”
Blacque laced his hands behind his head, knowing that the muscles bulged in his bare arms. “You could have gone to Dane. Me. Even Alice. Nobody wants to break up families. You’re engaged, so that’s a family, far as I’m concerned.” He lazily studied the wolf before him, watching Jeremy’s unease mount.
“You owe me, kid.”
“I know.” He stood uneasily. He knew pack law. Blacque could challenge him, fuck him, even claim his woman as penance. But there were better uses for sneaky young wolves.
“You aren’t the only one who’s coming after me.”
Jeremy’s eyes went wide, and a panic
ked look crossed his face. “I’m not turning you loose on anyone else!”
“Did I come after you? Did I rip your skin from your hide when I had every right to do so?” Blacque stood and leaned forward, knuckles resting on the surface of the desk. Even from across the small room, he dwarfed the other shifter. Deliberately he pushed power over Jeremy, grunting in satisfaction as the younger wolf fought the urge to shift.
“From now on, you’re my ears and my eyes. You understand?” He watched Jeremy swallow hard. His jaw clenched, and then he jerked his head in assent. “Who else?” He settled back into his chair, nodding for the other man to sit as well. The young wolf sat, looking stiff and uncomfortable. He completely lacked the grace he’d shown earlier.
“Travis. He’s been watching you and that vamp next door.”
“And…?”
“Michella. She hasn’t said anything, though. She’s just pissed. Mallory too, but he’s got other problems.”
Blacque didn’t answer.
“There’s a couple of other males who figure you’re gonna get babies on their women. Gabriel and Sam. They won’t come after you unless they can get a group together.”
Well, it was nothing he hadn’t figured out already. Blacque chewed the inside of his lip and gazed steadily at Jeremy, who sat uncomfortably in his chair.
“Okay, the plan is to lure you out of town, maybe on a run or something. Maybe for drinks. They’re gonna take you on as a group. You just won’t come back.”
He barked with laughter. “Are you serious? What do you think Dane will do when a bunch of pups show up smelling of my blood? Hell, what do you think my sister will do?”
“I know.” Jeremy shook his head. “That’s why I came on my own. I just…” He looked at Blacque. “I don’t know what I was thinking. It just seemed a little more honorable this way.”
Blacque continued smiling. “At best, you’d take me down, prove yourself the better man. At worst, I’d beat your ass. You’d go limping back to your fiancée, and I’d be the villain. Not a bad plan, son.”
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