by Juniper Hart
“All right,” she breathed in a small voice.
Silently, they made their way back inside the restaurant, but Marcel could feel Emily watching him through her peripheral vision. When they approached her table, she only stood, staring at her friends unspeaking.
“Where were you?” the gangly man demanded. “Your food is ice cold.”
“I have to go,” she muttered, shooting Marcel a nervous look. “I’ll call you guys later.”
Confusion settled over the table, and they looked at Marcel balefully.
“You’re leaving?” the other one said. “How will you get back to the hotel?”
“I…” Emily trailed off helplessly and looked at Marcel.
“I’ve got her,” he interjected, steering her away from the table.
“Emmy!” Emily paused and looked back at her companions.
“Just give me a second, Marcel,” she murmured before starting back to them.
“Hurry up,” he insisted. “The longer we’re here…” He didn’t need to finish his thought. Emily hurried over to the table.
“Do you know that guy?” her friend demanded. “You’re pale as a sheet.”
“I know him. Everything is fine. Just keep your phones on, and I’ll let you know when I have word on Patricia.”
“Is this about the story?”
“I’ll talk to you later, okay?” She offered them a weak smile, but they didn’t return her expression.
“Emily!” Marcel growled, and she nodded toward him.
“I’ve gotta go.” She rushed away, bypassing Marcel as they moved toward the entrance, and Marcel could feel the eyes of his pack on him, boring into his back.
I hope no one saw what happened out there, or I’ll have some major explaining to do, he thought grimly. Considering the alternative, though, he knew he’d done the right thing fending off Gabriel, even if he’d risked a lot to do it.
“Where are you taking me?” Emily asked when they jumped into his car.
“My place for now,” he sighed, causing her to laugh shortly.
“For old times’ sake, huh?” she breathed, dropping her head back against the headrest.
“The more things change, the more things stay the same, I suppose,” Marcel commented, starting the car. He cast her a sidelong look. “Are you all right? Did he hurt you?”
“I’m fine,” Emily answered. “I just don’t understand what’s going on.”
Putting the car in drive, Marcel guided them out of the lot, his eyes fixed on the rear-view mirror to make sure they weren’t being followed.
“He’s been looking for you since he turned you,” he told her. “Why would you come back here?” Emily gaped at him uncomprehendingly.
“Turned me?” she echoed. “What does that mean?”
It was Marcel’s turn to be perplexed. “What do you mean, what does that mean?”
“Is this an Abbott and Costello skit?” Emily snapped. “I have no idea what you’re talking about!”
A sense of dread overwhelmed Marcel, and he peered at her in disbelief. “Gabriel turned you and three other females eight years ago, Emily.”
“Turned me into what?” Panic overtook her body as she began to understand what he was implying. “Oh, my God. What are you saying?” she gasped, her face almost opaque as the gravity of his words hit her. “Are you saying he made me a Lycan?”
Marcel’s jaw locked. “It seems like that’s something you would remember, Emily,” he told her quietly. “Or at least notice subsequently.”
She exhaled in a whoosh of hot air, her body beginning to shake.
“No…” she mumbled. “I don’t remember. Are you sure?”
Suddenly, Marcel was not certain about anything. Could Landon have been wrong about her? It would only make sense if he hadn’t caught Gabriel trying to take her.
“I’m sure, and I think you are, too.” She inhaled sharply.
“Why wouldn’t I remember it? Eight years ago, I left to go to NYU…” Emily trailed off and blinked, as if a memory was coming back to her. “There was a day that I blacked out… That was after my dad died, and there was so much going on.”
Marcel’s jaw twitched furiously. Not only did he illegally change them, but he also managed to wipe their memories of it. He’s a monster. It’s a miracle they got away.
Or had they? The more Marcel thought about what he knew, the more he realized he knew nothing. He should’ve asked Landon for more details. Shame flooded him as he thought about how annoyed he’d been taking on the task at all.
“What are you doing here, Marcel?” Emily asked suddenly. “How did you know I was in trouble?” His fists closed around the steering wheel, and he sighed deeply.
“Ever called me,” he confessed. Emily nodded slowly.
“I’m surprised he remembered me.”
Marcel’s head whipped to the side in surprise. “You’re kidding, right? You’re probably the most exciting thing to happen to Salem in our generation.”
Emily scoffed at his flattery. “Look at you, mellowing with age,” she teased. “Even paying women compliments. I would have never expected to see that from the brooding Marcel Forrester.”
“And you became a journalist after all, I see.” Her eyes narrowed.
“Have you been creeping on me?” she asked jokingly, but he heard the curiosity in her voice.
Why didn’t we ever get together when we were young? Marcel wondered suddenly, and he laughed aloud at the question.
“What’s so funny?”
“I was just wondering why you and I never dated when we were in high school.” Emily found the query equally amusing, and they both chuckled at the idea.
“Maybe because your pack would have killed me if they found out that I knew what you really were. Every time I went to your house, I felt like your father was reaching into my soul with his eyes.”
“Yeah, he was like that,” Marcel agreed, sniggering. “Don’t take it personally. He didn’t like the Lycans, either.”
“‘Was like that’?” Her smile faded. “He’s… gone?”
Marcel’s back stiffened, and he nodded. “Pack wars about five years ago. He knew it was coming, messing with other territories all the time. He was never happy with what he had.”
“I’m so sorry, Marcel. I know your relationship was difficult, but…”
“He was a pain in my ass,” Marcel growled. “I miss him, but I’m glad all those senseless battles are done now.”
“Ever doesn’t subscribe to the same tactics?” There was a hint of surprise in Emily’s tone.
“Ever isn’t the pack leader,” Marcel replied, glancing at her. “I am.”
Shock colored her face. “But I thought he named Ever…” She trailed off and shook her head. “I mean, congratulations. You deserve it. I thought you would be a better alpha than Ever.”
“I bet you say that to all the boys,” he jested, but warmth washed through him as he heard the truth in her words.
“What changed?” Emily asked. “Why did you end up with the responsibility?”
“He was always going to name me his successor,” Marcel explained, steering the BMW up toward his secluded house. “He only named Ever to make me angry. In the end, it only served to infuriate Ever when he went back on his word and told my little brother that he’d been lying.”
“Fathers are difficult,” Emily sighed as she leaned forward to take in the sight of his beautiful house. “Is this all yours?”
“Yes. You’ll be safe here,” Marcel assured her. “I live alone.” He wondered why he’d felt the need to add that. It would have become clear in seconds.
“I’m surprised to hear that, Marcel.” He parked and turned to her, one eyebrow arched.
“Why’s that?”
“I just thought that you Lycans were always about finding your mates and settling down to create more Lycans to take over the world.” He scoffed and turned off the car.
“Well, it helps if you find your mate f
irst,” he agreed. A hot blush touched his cheeks, and he turned his head so that she wouldn’t see his expression. For the first time since taking on this adventure, Marcel found himself wondering if that was why Landon had come to him to find Emily.
Is it because Emily is my mate? He couldn’t deny that he felt a deepening connection between them, one he had dismissed when they were in their teens. But then, we didn’t stand a chance. Now, if I can defeat Gabriel, nothing will stand in our way. After all, we’re both Lycans now, whether Emily wants to believe it or not.
6
Eleven Years Ago
The shattering of glass caused Emily to pause outside the door. She hadn’t noticed her father’s truck in the driveway until that moment, and the familiar knot of stress formed in her stomach as she realized he was probably drunk already. Quietly, she turned away and snuck back to the road, thinking of where she could go to wait until he passed out.
Her backpack was heavy with the reminder of homework she needed to do, and there was still the article for the school paper which needed to be written, but her immediate concern was finding somewhere warm and without the threat of violence or verbal abuse.
Going back to school was an option, but if she ran into one of her teachers, there would be questions. There were always questions she didn’t want to answer. Emily told herself that she would be out of this town in three more years, but to a fifteen-year-old, that was an eternity. Light snow was beginning to fall, and the chill of the winter air was seeping into her bones as she trudged down the road. She had a few bucks in her pocket, enough to buy a coffee.
I’ll set up shop at the Dunkin Donuts, she decided. At least it’s warm. Twenty minutes later, she found herself inside the bustling coffee shop, wishing for a quiet that she’d never get anywhere. Still, she managed to get to work.
Out of the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of a familiar face, and her back tensed instantly. He hadn’t seen her yet, but he, too, was alone, sitting in a corner, pouring over his computer notebook.
Leave him alone, Emily growled to herself. The more she stared at him, though, the more she realized that it was impossible, that she was going to get up and go talk to Marcel Forrester, even though she hadn’t seen him in over a year—since she’d boldly approached him that day with what she’d learned about the Lycans. She was older now. Wiser. She knew how to approach someone about a story without scaring them off.
Before she could talk herself out of it, she gathered her things and wandered toward him, plopping her things down at his table. He did a double take when he saw her.
“What are you doing?” he snarled.
“I thought you could use some company,” Emily replied sweetly. “We’re both alone.”
“I don’t need company.” Marcel lowered his gaze back to the computer, as if the matter was done. Emily ignored him and sat at the table.
“I think we got off on the wrong foot last time,” she said cordially, and he scoffed.
“There was no foot to get off on, Emily. Honestly, I’m surprised to see you walking around.” A fission of alarm coursed through her.
“I made a mistake,” she told him simply. “I was young and stupid, but you have to know that I wouldn’t tell anyone what I know about you.” Marcel’s head whipped up, and he glowered at her in anger.
“Tell anyone what?” His face was mere inches from hers. “You wouldn’t live long enough.”
Emily balked but held her position. “Why is it such a secret? Why do you choose to live among us when you could take us all over and—?”
“You really are looking for trouble, aren’t you?” he hissed. “Lower your voice!” Contritely, she did as she was told.
“I’m just looking for answers,” she said earnestly. “I’m not looking to cause trouble.”
Marcel’s cerulean eyes narrowed into slits. “That’s not what you said last time we talked. You said you were looking to write an exposé on the pack—on my pack.”
Emily hung her head in shame. “That was because I didn’t really believe what I’d been told,” she admitted. “I thought it was an urban legend. I was just looking for good clickbait material.”
He eyed her dubiously.
“Where did you get your information in the first place?” he demanded. An uncomfortable silence ensued, and Emily cleared her throat.
“A good journalist never reveals her sources,” she answered. “That said, now I know it’s true, and I’m asking out of human interest. This is completely off the record.”
“There’s no record. You’re not getting a word out of me. Now get lost so I can finish my homework, or I won’t be graduating.” Emily’s brow raised with interest.
“Are you going to college?” she asked hopefully. “I want to go to NYU.” Marcel stared at her, his mouth twisting into a smirk.
“No,” he said flatly. “I’m not going to college. It’s not necessary.”
“Because you’re going to be your pack’s leader?” In fact, Emily already knew that Marcel’s father had named Ever to be his successor.
“Because packs stay together,” Marcel retorted. “You really don’t know anything about us, do you?”
“I’d like to,” she insisted. “I really—”
“EMILY!” She turned and looked at Helen Rose running into the coffee shop, her face stricken. Slowly, Emily stood, feeling the energy around her shift the closer Helen drew to her. “You have to come home at once,” her next-door-neighbor panted, tears welling in her eyes. “It’s your father.”
A whooshing sound filled Emily’s ears, and she stood dumbly.
“What happened?” It wasn’t Emily who spoke but Marcel, who had joined her side. It was only then that she realized he was holding onto her.
“There was an accident,” Helen moaned. “The ambulance came, but it was too late.” She sobbed and bit on her lower lip.
“What accident?” Confusion overwhelmed Emily. She had just heard him in the house, not an hour earlier. What could he have possibly done?
“It seems like he fell through a glass table,” Helen mumbled, pity and humiliation in her eyes. “He was lying on the floor for a while, calling out for help.”
Bile rose through Emily’s throat as she realized that she had heard the incident. She had heard it, and she had walked away. She had left her father there.
“Is he going to be okay?” Emily whispered. “Is he…?”
“My car’s outside.” It took Emily a full minute to realize that it was Marcel who was guiding her out of the shop while everyone stared at her.
She didn’t remember getting to the hospital. All she remembered was Marcel quietly sitting at her side while she waited for news on her father’s surgery, the shame threatening her like a tidal wave. When the surgeon finally came to tell her that her father had succumbed to his injuries, she vaguely recalled her knees buckling and Marcel grabbing her.
“You’ll come home with me, honey,” Helen Rose told her. “Until Child Services can come for you.”
“No,” Marcel said firmly. “She’s coming home with me.”
And here I am again, Emily thought now, looking around the luxurious surroundings of Marcel’s home. Being protected by a friendly stranger who happened to be at the right place at the right time. Is that a coincidence?
“You’re thinking about the night you came home with me after your dad… passed,” Marcel said, and she turned her head to look at him in surprise.
“How did you know that?”
He smiled wanly. “I can read your thoughts.”
At first, Emily thought he was kidding. But when she realized that he was serious, the understanding filled her with a mixture of confusion and excitement.
“How did this happen?” she muttered. “How could I be a Lycan and not know it?”
“I don’t know,” Marcel sighed. “All I know is what the lead Lycan told me, and that wasn’t much. To be honest, Emily, I didn’t even know it was you until I Googled your name.”<
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She didn’t know what to say. “Why me? Why would he turn me, of all people? And why doesn’t he just turn more instead of coming for me?”
“Come and sit down,” Marcel urged, leading her into a sprawling sitting room at the front of the house. “I’ll get us a drink. Are you hungry? You must be—you didn’t get a chance to eat your dinner.”
Emily shook her head. Food was the absolute last thing on her mind.
“Just some water will suffice,” she said gratefully. “I need to keep a clear head right now.” There was so much swirling through her thoughts, she didn’t know where to focus her attention.
“I’ll be right back. Just make yourself comfortable.”
She sank onto the sofa and looked around the tastefully decorated room. It was obviously professionally done, and she wondered what Marcel was doing those days. Does being an Alpha pay this well, or does he moonlight?
“I own a club,” he replied, again inside her mind, and he handed her a glass of ice-filled water. She blushed.
Note to self, she thought, watch what you’re thinking.
A wry smile formed on his lips, but he didn’t comment as he sat across from her in a wing chair.
“You’re a club owner?” she echoed. “You’re full of surprises.”
“Yeah?”
“You’re an introvert,” Emily said. “I can’t picture you sipping Cristal in the VIP with half-naked models twerking on you.” Even as she conjured the image in her mind, a flash of jealousy coursed through her veins. What man wouldn’t want that kind of life? She chided herself for being so naïve. Just because Marcel had always struck her as more sensitive than most males she’d known didn’t mean that he wasn’t a player at heart.
“I hate it,” Marcel confessed, and she looked at him in surprise. “But it’s lucrative, and my partner runs most of the front end of the business. My job is mostly books and balancing.”
Emily wondered if he was just saying that to make her feel better. She only smiled.
“Well, it sounds great,” she offered with forced cheer and swallowed another sip of water to choke back her feelings.
“How about you? Married? Kids?” He was trying to sound nonchalant, but she could sense that her answer was very important to him.
