“Yeah. It’s a fancy club owned by a vampire, and a feeding ground used by his cronies to cull human customers to feed from—or so rumor has it.”
“Yes. Raúl wanted to attack it, targeting the vampires. He thought if it looked like a mass shooting, and the cops and the humans who were there saw that the people who were shot didn’t die, and healed rapidly, it would prove that vampires do exist. Then the humans would hunt them down and eliminate them.”
“Was he out of his fucking mind?” Sand spat out.
“We are talking about Raúl,” Dimas replied. Sand could visualize him rolling his eyes in disgust.
“Enough said. Okay, if you’re right and it was a vampire who killed him, then somehow one or more of them learned of Raúl’s plan and decided to stop the attack by stopping him, permanently.”
“Now all we have to do is find out who it was.”
“Have fun,” Sand replied dryly.
“Well…” There was a long pause on Dimas’s end.
“Oh, no. No way, no how. Get that out of your head now!”
“You’re not connected with the pack, and he was your brother.”
“Dimas, it’s not happening. I suppose I’m sorry he’s dead but that’s it. I hold no loyalty to him or the pack. If you want his killer dealt with, that’s up to you and the other Betas—or the new Alpha once one of you takes over the position.”
“It won’t be me,” Dimas replied. “I have no desire to fight for it, literally as well as figuratively.”
“Can’t blame you for that.”
Dimas snickered. “You could always come back and try. After all, it is your right as the second son.”
“Not happening. I’m quite happy leading a normal life without all the politics and tensions that would be involved if I did win, which you know as well as I isn’t likely to happen.”
“True, I suppose. All right, I’ve passed on the news. If you change your mind…”
“Thanks for letting me know, and I won’t.”
They hung up; Sand returned the phone to the nightstand, and then laid back, hands behind his head as he stared off into space.
Do I want to avenge Raúl’s death? For damned sure he wouldn’t avenge mine, if the situation was reversed. He’d figure I got what I deserved. On the other hand, if he was killed by a vampire then I owe it to every werewolf in existence to deal with him, or her I suppose, before they strike again. The bastards have no honor. They don’t think they need a reason, a real one, to try to kill us. They never have. Yeah, there’s supposed to be a truce of some sort, after the last war decimated our populations almost a hundred years ago. More honored in the breach than the observance now, or something like that.
He sat up again and got out of bed, deciding since he was awake and unlikely to go back to sleep, he might as well shower, get dressed, and face the day. For the moment, he pushed all thoughts of his brother’s murder to the deep recesses of his mind. When he was ready to face them again, he would. And maybe decide if I want to do anything about it? It would be hard since Dimas said there were no clues at the site that even suggested it might have been a vampire. Still…No, stop thinking about it. Breakfast, a run, then figure out how to kill the rest of the day. That was easy enough, he discovered, since there was an all-day street fair downtown to celebrate the Memorial Day weekend. By the time he returned home that evening he was ready to take a long shower to wash off the sweat. He did, and then decided to skip supper as he’d eaten his way through the fair’s many food booths. He flopped down on the sofa to watch a movie he hadn’t seen before, and then headed to bed.
* * * *
“You’re what?” Sand said in dismay Monday morning, soon after he arrived at the security firm where he worked weekdays from eleven to seven—even on holidays like today, which was Memorial Day.
“Moving you to nights, at least for the foreseeable future,” his boss replied. “John’s kid is due any day now and he asked for time off until it gets here and then a month’s paternal leave afterward.”
Sand resisted sighing. He liked John, but damn…“Okay, as long as it’s not permanent.”
His boss chuckled. “It’s going to cut into your nightlife, isn’t it?”
“If I say yes, will you reconsider and put someone else on that shift?” Sand looked hopefully at him.
All he got in reply was a laugh, a shake of the head, and “You’ll start tonight, so take the rest of the day off.”
“If I didn’t like this job,” he muttered. He did perk up a bit when his boss told him the new hours also came with a dollar-an-hour pay raise for the duration.
* * * *
Since he wasn’t due back to work until seven, Sand called Dimas on his way home to find out exactly where Raúl had died, explaining he wanted to check out the site.
“I’m not making any promises,” he said when Dimas asked if he’d changed his mind. “I want to take a look, is all.”
“If you find anything we missed…”
“Yeah, Dimas, I’ll let you know.” He probably wouldn’t. He was no longer a part of the pack, which seemed to be fine with most of the members, excluding Dimas, so he owed them no loyalty.
“I’ll send you a map with the death site marked.”
“A visual would help, too.”
“Can do. Are you going to teleport in?”
Sand considered that for all of five seconds before dismissing the idea. “I don’t want to take a chance that hikers or hunters might be there, despite the fact it’s far off the beaten path, and see me appear. It is a holiday.”
“Makes sense.”
Dimas sent what Sand needed to his phone as Sand drove home. When he got there, he changed from his work clothes into a pair of jeans, a flannel shirt in deference to the fact it was only late spring and the mountains would be cooler than the city, and a pair of hiking boots. He got out the backpack he used for sorties to the high country. Even though he wouldn’t need most of the gear it contained, he was a firm believer in ‘better safe than sorry’. He tossed it on the floor in front of the passenger seat of his twelve-year-old Jeep Wrangler, checked to be certain he had enough gas—which he did—and took off.
An hour later he was deep in the mountains, not too far from the home of the Wintermane pack for which Raúl had been the Alpha. He pulled off the road onto a narrow lane that, according to Dimas’ map, was less than half a mile from his destination. After making certain no one was around, he shifted to his werewolf and set out, staying well within the trees to the side of the path where Raúl’s body had been found.
Locating the exact spot was easy enough. It smelled of blood and death. He circled it slowly, searching for anything that might indicate who, or what, had murdered his brother. Then he widened his search, as he was certain Dimas and the other Betas had. Their scent lingered, not that it mattered if the killer was a vampire. They had no scent of their own. If it had been a human, however, then he knew he was shit out of luck as the Betas’ scents would have overridden any human one.
If I were a vampire, where would I hide to wait for him? Not close and not on the ground where I might inadvertently step on a twig which would have alerted Raúl to my presence. He gazed up at the branches of the tall trees beside the path. If it were me…Yeah. Which one, though. As his werewolf, he couldn’t climb, or balance successfully on the branches, so he shifted, clothing himself with a thought, and teleported to the larger ones, checking them one by one. Finally he saw it—a few small twigs that had been bent or broken, on one of the branches. Balancing carefully, he put one hand on the tree trunk for stability and studied the branches above and below him. Given what he was, his eyesight was sharper than an average human’s, allowing him to spot two dark hairs caught on a branch about six feet above him. He plucked them free, tore a leaf from the branch, and wrapped it around them, putting it into his shirt pocket.
Finding nothing more, he dropped to the ground and shifted again. Moving slowly up the path, away from the pack�
�s home and toward where he’d parked, he scanned for anything more which might tell him who was responsible for Raúl’s death. He was almost to the car when he saw them—tire tracks. The jeep’s tires had obliterated most of them, but there were a few partials. Becoming human again, dressing with a thought, he pulled his phone from his jeans pocket to take pictures of them, and of two footprints that weren’t his. He was well aware the car that had been there might have had nothing to do with what had happened, but he wasn’t about to ignore possible evidence.
He called Dimas to find what forms he and the others had been in when they searched the area. If they’d teleported in, and remained as werewolves, then he might have found a clue other than the two hairs. Dimas said that was exactly what they’d done, which made Sand feel as if he’d one-upped them. Given his relationship with the pack—which didn’t exist thanks to his father and Raúl—that made him smile.
“Did you find anything I should know about?” Dimas asked.
“No,” Sand replied, sticking to his vow that he had no loyalty to the pack, even if Dimas per se was still his friend. I’ll do my own hunt for Raúl’s killer. If I find him, then I’ll decide whether to deal with him on my own or bring in the pack.
From the angle of the shadows, he knew it was well past four and he had to be at work by seven—and needed to change clothes and eat dinner first—so he took off, heading back to the city.
Chapter 3
Sand spent the first three nights of his new shift, from seven P.M. until four A.M., at a downtown office building, sitting at the guard’s desk in the lobby reading—when he wasn’t going from floor to floor checking to be certain no one was around, other than the cleaning crews for the various offices. For him, making sure no one had hidden in the building after hours was easy. All he had to do was use his nose and ears. Although in his human form smells and sounds weren’t as intense as when he was a werewolf, they definitely were sharper than they would have been if he was merely a human.
Then his boss called him mid-Thursday afternoon to tell him he was being reassigned.
“Again,” Sand said sourly. “Now what?”
His boss laughed. “It’s not that bad. Mr. Lincoln wants you to accompany his daughter when she and her friends go clubbing tomorrow evening.”
“Still running the escort service on the side?” Sand teased, relaxing.
He’d done that more than once when one of the firm’s wealthier clients wanted to make certain nothing happened to their nubile young daughters when they were out and about on a weekend night. Sand would pretend to be a young woman’s boyfriend of the moment, while in reality he was their bodyguard to keep them safe and out of trouble.
“We should get paid as much as some of those services do,” his boss replied with a laugh. “You remember Patricia Lincoln, I hope.”
“Oh, yeah. That girl needs a keeper, and I don’t mean me.”
“Be that as it may, you’re to pick her up tomorrow evening at seven. Apparently she and her friends are going to a fancy club that’s supposed to be all the rage at the moment, so dress accordingly.”
Sand groaned. “Tell me I don’t have to wear a tux.”
“No. A suit and tie should be sufficient, according to Mr. Lincoln. And Sand, use your car, not the jeep.”
“Will do.”
* * * *
Sand arrived at the Lincoln estate on the dot of seven Friday evening. Mr. Lincoln greeted him at the door, stepping aside to let him in before going to the bottom of the stairs at the far end of the long entryway. He shouted up, “Your date is here, Patricia.”
“Coming, Father.”
Patricia bounced down the stairs moments later. Her wine-colored dress had a short, full skirt and a plunging neckline with a lace insert that left little to the imagination. When she whirled around, Sand saw that the back of the dress, from the waist up, was two thin strips of the same lace. The stiletto heels of her matching shoes must have been at least five inches.
“Hey, Sand, what do you think?” she said, coming to a stop in front of him.
That you should go upstairs and change into something a lot less provocative. He didn’t say that, opting for, “You’re going to be the belle of the ball.”
“We’re going to a club, silly man, not a ball.” She linked her arm with Sand’s. “Don’t wait up, Dad.”
“When do I ever?” Mr. Lincoln grumbled. “Try to be home before dawn.”
She rolled her eyes, kissed his cheek, and she and Sand went out to his car.
“All right, where are we going?” Sand asked as he pulled out of the long driveway onto the street.
“You’ll never guess.”
“Which is why I asked.”
She grinned. “The Crimson Cathedral. They say it’s the hottest club in the city and me and my friends have never been there so tonight…”
Sand tuned her out after ‘Crimson Cathedral’, almost turning the car around to take her back home. I’ll be lucky if they let me through the door. On the other hand, if they do, I might be able to pick up some information about Raúl’s murder, if someone there was responsible or knows who did it. Maybe my being there will loosen a few tongues, although probably not in public. He had no problem with eavesdropping when the situation warranted.
“Sounds like fun,” he finally replied, tuning her in again.
* * * *
Andre did take some time off as Thorin had requested, going down to New Orleans. Despite the excitement the city provided, he found he was bored with no one to share it with, so he had returned home late Thursday night.
When he walked into the club soon after eight Friday evening, the first person he saw was Thorin, seated at one of the bars.
“What are you doing here?” Thorin asked when Andre joined him.
“I got bored in New Orleans and came back,” Andre replied with a grin.
“Only you.” Thorin shook his head. “One of the most interesting cities in the world, for those of us in the know, and you turn your nose up at what it has to offer.”
Andre shrugged. “I’d rather hang around here.” Resting an elbow on the bar, he looked around, asking, “Is there anything you need me to do?”
“No. It’s been calm, which is fine with me.” Thorin lowered his voice so that only another vampire could hear him. “If Raúl’s pack has figured out that it must have been one of us who took him out, they haven’t done anything to retaliate.”
“So far.”
“There is that,” Thorin agreed. He crooked a finger at the bartender, and when the man came over, ordered red wine for himself and Andre. When it arrived, Thorin suggested he and Andre go up to his private table on the balcony where they could watch the crowds without being disturbed.
Once they were there, Andre sipped his wine while scanning the men and women on the dance floor at the back of the club’s main room. He saw two men who might have interested him, if they hadn’t been human. Finally pulling his attention away from the view, he asked, “Have you heard any rumors about who the new Alpha is, now that Raúl is out of the picture?”
“Nothing, so far, and I’ve had two of my spies keeping watch on the pack. It seems, from what they told me, that there were four Betas who had their eye on the prize. Two were eliminated.” Thorin chuckled. “Their battles often make me think of the teams who vie for the Super Bowl, although more bloody. In this case, one of them died at the hands of his opponent. The other was sent away with his tail between his legs.” He grew pensive as he drank his wine. “There should have been one more in contention. Raúl’s brother. By rights, he should take over the pack by dint of being the second son.”
“He chose not to?”
“So it seems, as he hasn’t returned to try to claim his birthright. Do you know his story?”
“Hell, I didn’t even know Raúl had a brother.”
“He does. Unfortunately, he was forced out of the pack by his father because he’s homosexual.”
“The worst possib
le curse to befall a werewolf, from what I understand. Even the weakest of the Omegas are allowed to remain as they serve a purpose.” Andre lifted his glass in a toast. “To vampires, who have sense enough to know it isn’t a choice and there’s nothing wrong with any man or woman who favors their own sex over the opposite one.”
Thorin smiled, clicking his glass with Andre’s. “A very good thing in your case.”
“Indeed it is.”
They ceased talking at that point, lost in their own thoughts. For Andre, it was wondering if the new Alpha of the Wintermane pack would decide to seek revenge for Raúl’s death, or if he would figure it was no loss and move on to other, possibly more pressing issues.
Andre heard hurried footsteps approaching, even above the music and noise filling the club, and turned to see who it was.
“We might have a problem,” Malik said, speaking to Thorin. “The guys on the door sent me up to tell you.”
“How so?” Thorin asked.
“There’s a group of humans who want to come in.”
“And?” Thorin looked at him quizzically.
“They’re accompanied by a werewolf who seems to be one young woman’s escort from the way he’s treating her.”
“Do you get any sense that he’s here to cause trouble?” Andre asked.
“He’s a werewolf,” Malik replied, giving Andre a ‘duh’ look. “Why else would he be here?”
“My first guess would be that he’s the woman’s boyfriend. That would be unusual, given what he is, but it’s been known to happen,” Andre replied. “I, myself, have sometimes taken a human I’m interested in out for a night on the town. Nothing ever comes of it, in the long run, but that’s neither here nor there.”
Thorin nodded in agreement. “Tell the doormen to allow him and his friends in, and then come back and point him out to Andre so he can keep an eye on him.”
Malik dashed away, causing Thorin to say, “That young man has too much energy. I should figure out how to channel it.”
“While keeping him from rattling on at the wrong time,” Andre said, recalling Malik’s babbling in his mind while he was trying to concentrate on killing Raúl before Raúl realized he was there.
Unnatural Allies Page 2
