Uber time? Nah. There’s no way I’m gonna risk an innocent.
Diego’s not my partner. Technically, that’s Angelo Colombo. We’ve only been working together for a real short bit. I don’t trust him to cover my back. Not like I do Travis and Diego. Travis has Ali now. They married shortly after Travis recovered from the vamp attack on his mind. Ever since, Diego’s been the one most involved with me as far as vamps and Amarok are concerned.
Why not with werewolves too?
Then again, maybe I should try to tough it out and go by myself. That way, no one else can get hurt.
But I am hurting myself already, and if Rolf is in cahoots with Amarok, I need backup.
Plus, I did promise my parents I’d make a team.
So I call up Diego. Maybe he won’t answer. He hadn’t earlier. And it’s, wait, I’m not even sure what time it is.
“’Risa?” he mumbles. “What’s wrong? Had a bad dream and need someone to protect you?”
I open my mouth to make a retort and have to cover it, so I don’t get sick. Unfortunately, my hand not holding the phone is holding the bloody paw. It almost touches my lips before I realize.
“Actually,” Diego continues, not realizing my plight at all, “I’m the one who had a nightmare. I’d love to be rescued by you.”
I hold the phone away, bend over, and hurl. My stomach feels maybe a little better. Maybe.
Nah. Not really.
“Clarissa?”
I gasp out my location and hang up. Then I have to call him back and correct myself. I’m a little disoriented yet. Yeah, definitely concussion. If my symptoms don’t get better soon, I’ll have to go to the hospital to make sure my brain isn’t bleeding. I swear if it is and I require surgery, I’m gonna flip. I cannot be on the shelf for that long!
The moment I sit on the roof of my car, at least I hope it’s the roof of my car, my eyes close. I nod off. It’s okay to sleep if you have a concussion. Only if someone can’t wake you up, then you need to be taken to the hospital straight away.
The feel of someone brushing my blond hair back from my forehead stirs me. Diego’s staring at me with concern in his dark eyes. It’s not a good look on him. Or maybe I should say an unfamiliar look. He’s such a flirt. He’s got smoldering down pat. But for him to not be smiling, winking, or smirking just leaves me upset.
“What happened?” he asks, tenderly taking my elbow.
His gaze drops to the wolf paw I’m still holding, but he doesn’t pry or hound me with questions. I appreciate that.
“Where am I taking you?”
“South Mountain.”
Diego stiffens. “Not what I was expecting to hear. You sure?”
“Please.”
“Did you maim a werewolf?”
I blink a few times. Maybe it’s because my mind’s all foggy, but I hadn’t considered that the werewolf who once had this paw might still be alive. I just assumed he was dead.
“Yes. Wanted a token,” I mumble.
Although he’s strong, my lack of balance makes us both stagger the ten feet to his car. He buckles me in even though I don’t need him to.
“I know I’m not a doctor, even though I would make a hotter one than that Dean guy. Still, do you want me to look you over?” he asks.
“Maybe later. We don’t have time.” The sky is already graying, lightening. Once the sun rises, my window will be shut until tonight. I want to talk to a werewolf tonight. Considering I don’t know what any of the werewolves look in their human form except for Rolf.
No. Wait. I did seem them all at night. But I can’t remember clearly. Stupid brain. I feel like my brain’s been fried like burnt rubbery scrambled eggs.
Diego goes, and I give him directions on where to park. He opens my door, but I climb out. My legs don’t quite feel like Jell-O now. My balance isn’t quite as terrible. My head still aches though.
“Got any Advil?” I ask.
I hadn’t closed my door yet. Diego reaches in, pops open the glove, and removes a small canister of Advil. He grabs a nearly empty water bottle and hands it and the Advil to me.
I pop two and swallow them down. They land hard in my stomach, but after a few seconds, my stomach calms down.
“We’re off to talk to who exactly?” Diego whispers as he shuts my door as quietly as he had his own.
He reaches toward his gun, halts, and stares at me, waiting.
“Don’t draw it, but be ready to grab it in case.”
“Yeah, I doubt they’ll be happy to see that. We are going to see werewolves, right?”
It’s so weird to talk about werewolves so easily, especially after I had been so tight-lipped about vamps. But Diego deserves to know what he’s walking into.
“I hope so,” I whisper.
“For a friendly chat? You sure bringing that will make them happy?”
“Maybe, maybe not. We’re here now. They can probably smell it. So we might as well bring it.”
“If you say so.” He sounds unconvinced, and I don’t blame him.
We pick our way through the trees toward where I think I saw the group of werewolves before. I think there had been a fire the night I saw all of them. My mind’s too fuzzy yet to be sure.
Diego climbs over a tall root and reaches back for my hand. Once I climb over it, he doesn’t let go. I don’t either.
It’s dark here because of the trees, but early morning has arrived. Damn. Maybe that’s for the best. The werewolves don’t need to know right away that one of their own has been attacked and possibly killed.
“Let’s head back,” I murmur.
Diego leads the way. He finally releases my hand to hold back a branch out of our way. I follow but then pause and glance over my shoulder.
A shadow stretches from a tree to the right. A decidedly human-shaped shadow.
“Rolf?” I whisper.
The werewolf in question steps forward. Shadows from the tree shade half his face.
I toss the wolf paw toward him. “Someone left me a present. What in the world is going on?”
Rolf’s nostrils flare. His face twists with anger and fury.
“Who did it?” I ask. “Any ideas?”
“War,” he growls in a mutter, his voice low.
“You think a vampire did this?” I ask.
Because I gotta tell ya, that’s who I’m betting on. And I’m not a gambler.
Rolf takes a single step forward. Light shines down directly on him. “War is here,” he says.
His steely gray eyes flash silver, and then he dashes away, disappearing into the trees and out of sight.
Chapter 4
Maybe I’m crazy. Maybe I’m possessed.
Whatever the reason, I throw back my head and howl. It’s the only thing I can think of to make Rolf come back.
And he does. My howl might be pathetic, probably the worst howl ever, but it’s long and loud. Immediately, Rolf rushes back to me and covers my mouth, forcing me back until I slam against a tree.
“Get your paws off her,” Diego says, climbing back up toward us. His gun is level with Rolf’s back.
The werewolf wrinkles his nose in disgust but backs away.
“What do you think you’re doing?” he mutters to me.
I stare him down. His eyes are steely gray again. Did I really see the silver? Maybe my eyes aren’t right yet. They’re still a little photosensitive.
“Getting your attention. You can’t just say something like that and leave. Doesn’t work that way.”
“I don’t have anything to say to you on the matter.” He lifts his nose into the air like he’s all hoity-toity.
“Good because I don’t want to talk to you about this.”
I cross my arms. Which, pathetically, takes me two tries to master. Diego doesn’t say anything, and I hope it’s not bright enough yet for them to see my cheeks. I’m so hot and flushed with embarrassment right now it’s not even funny.
“I demand to have a meeting with the alpha. What’s hi
s name? I want an introduction. I deserve one, don’t you think? After what I did?”
“After what you did, you’re lucky I haven’t ripped you a new—”
“Better watch it, buddy.” Diego closes the distance between them and presses the nozzle of his gun against Rolf’s temple.
Rolf doesn’t flinch or even look in his direction. The ooze of panic, alarm, anger, and frustration is running so high right now that I want to tap my foot. I need to express some excess energy.
But I refrain. I really don’t want to lose my balance right now. Then again, my back is still pressed against the tree.
“Apologize to the little lady,” Diego says.
Normally, I’d consider being annoyed at that term. Instead, I’m indifferent. I want an apology. I bent over backward for Rolf. I did my best for this city. Bethlehem deserves better. The people need to be safe. They should be able to prepare for Thanksgiving without being worried they’ll be mauled by werewolves or bitten by vamps.
Granted, werewolves haven’t mauled anyone. As far as I know.
Yet.
That was just Amarok.
Rolf doesn’t blink.
Diego taps his gun against Rolf’s temple. “We can wait all night.”
Unbidden, Meatloaf’s Paradise by the Dashboard Light springs to mine. God, no. Man, I hope that’s some kind of weird side effect of a concussion. That song is terrible!
Now, Bat out of Hell is another story. That one is epic.
Diego glances at me. Rolf’s expression flickers to from aloof to faint confusion.
Unconsciously, I’ve started to hum the song. Smoothly—okay, not that smoothly—I transition it into the Jeopardy waiting theme.
Diego cracks a smile.
Rolf rolls his eyes.
“Audience with your alpha now or else I’ll take your paw,” I snap.
“Threatening me?” Rolf asks. “How primitive of you.”
“Hey, I’m not the one who can shapeshift into a wolf,” I counter.
He bares his teeth.
I reach up and pat his cheek. “Not intimidated.”
“What’s going on?” a low, impossibly deep voice rumbles from higher up the mountain.
I don’t look away from Rolf, but I do lower my arm.
Diego slowly steps away from Rolf, his gun now directed toward the newcomer.
Rolf, though, reacts the most. He retreats a few steps back and lowers his head as if he’s been disciplined. Or like he’s a child who has been caught red-handed stealing from the cookie jar.
Honestly, it’s pathetic.
I guess the hierarchy between werewolves can’t be understated.
“You’re the alpha?” I ask.
Looking over, I don’t recognize him. How can I? He’s standing, deliberately I’m sure, in the shadows so I can only see his eyes.
At least they aren’t silver.
Amarok’s had been gold. For some reason, that flash of silver frightens me. I have no reason to feel that way. Doesn’t matter though. My gut is strong. Whenever I have a flash like that, I know better than to ignore it. Until and unless it goes away once I’m fully recovered from the concussion, I’m going to be wary of anyone with silver eyes. Or eyes that turn silver even if only for a second.
Whatev. I don’t have anything to lose.
Except for my life.
Stop being a coward, Tempest!
I stroll forward, hand out. “I don’t believe we’ve been properly introduced,” I say. “I’m Detective Clarissa Tempest. And you are?”
He blinks once, twice, unhurried, measured, and unnerving.
Just as slowly, he lowers his gaze to fall to my hand. Does he shake it? Nope. Of course not. Big, bad alpha wolf can’t possibly touch a non-werewolf.
So, I do something potentially stupid. Because I’m smart like that.
I reach out and force him to shake my hand.
His grip is seriously strong. I swear I hear a crack. After the fiercest handshake ever, he releases my hand.
I refuse to shake it out, but, man, do I want to.
I flash a smile. “And you are?” I repeat.
“Annoyed. Angry. Upset. Frustrated. Furious. Irate.”
“Wow. Adjectives.” I nod a few times. “Mind if I roll up your sleeve? Because I don’t want to waste my time and your time talking to you if you aren’t the alpha.”
He narrows his eyes.
The sun has risen a little more as we’ve been talking, as I’ve been talking. I’m fairly certain he’s the alpha. The shadows are receding enough for me to recognize the guy as a towering man with a bodybuilder physique. I can’t tell if his hair is buzzed or not. The tattoo I spied on the alpha’s bicep would be the one telltale necessary to ID him if he won’t out himself.
Since he hasn’t made a move to stop me so far, I lift his sleeve up.
Yep. The tattoo of an angry, ferocious wolf stares back at me.
“Hiya, Alphie. Can I call you Alphie? Because unless you tell me your name, I don’t know what else to call you. Anyhow, I’m Clarissa, yes, but I’m also annoyed. Peeved. Impatient. Frustrated. Disgusted.”
He says nothing.
I glance over my shoulder. Rolf hasn’t moved a muscle from his sullen child pose.
“That one asked me to do him a favor.” I jerk my head toward Rolf. “To do you all a favor. I delivered. I don’t see why you’re so upset.”
“That one, as you refer to him, should not have involved you,” Alphie says dryly.
“But he did. Amarok’s gone. Why aren’t you happy? Glad? Grateful? Appreciative?” I ask critically, not appreciating his attitude.
I can’t help it. My tone is growing more and more argumentative by the second. I can’t keep up the charade of being chummy-chummy any longer.
“We wanted him wiped out,” Alphie hisses angrily.
“Then maybe you shouldn’t have sent in a single human,” I snap, furious myself. “He’s left your hometown. Would it kill you to be nice to me in exchange?”
“If all you wish to discuss is your failure, you can save your breath, turn around, and leave.”
His voice is so deep he gives Louie Armstrong a run for his money. It’s kinda soothing in a way. That is if he weren’t so gruff and abrasive.
“All right. Fine. We’ll change the subject,” I say, pretending to be indifferent.
With my other hand, I toss him the wolf paw.
“Someone left that for me. A message, I take it. That one says war is here. With the vamps? How many? Why? I thought vamps and werewolves normally avoid each other. Why did vamps come here in the first place?”
Alphie’s jaw tightens. His nostrils flare. With worry? Fright? His eyes widen, and he bares his teeth, his anger returning. Then he shakes his head, and his face becomes a mask.
“Thank you for bringing this to me,” he says almost kindly. “If you will excuse us.”
He snaps his fingers, and Rolf falls in behind him as the duo start to walk away.
“Hey. No. Wait. This isn’t gonna be how it goes down. You stay here and start talking.”
I begin to go after them, but Diego grabs my arm to halt me.
“Let them go,” he murmurs in my ear, his breath warm against my neck.
“But they gave us nothing,” I protest.
“For the moment.” He lifts his arm, so his gun points heavenward. “They’ll talk eventually.” Now, Diego winks, back to his flirty self. “Or else we’ll make them talk.”
A slow smile crosses my face. “You’re a bad influence, you know that?”
“Me? I think you’re the bad influence.” He knocks his hip into me.
I almost fall over.
His arm snakes around my waist. I don’t protest as he takes me back to his car.
Diego’s right. One way or another, we’ll learn what’s going on.
And if war is coming to Bethlehem, we’re gonna find a way to end it ASAP. I won’t tolerate that in my city.
Chapter 5
> That night, I don’t sleep well. Not too surprising. I’m all amped up and exhausted all at once. The Advil has long worn off, but I don’t opt to get more. At least I only threw up the one time.
I so hate vomiting.
Ugh. The last time I got sick to my stomach, I had been checked over by Dean. Now, my stomach churns even more. I really screwed things up with him. If I bother to fix things with him, it would be pointless. No matter what, I can’t tell him about the vamps and werewolves. It’s not that I don’t trust him to keep quiet about it. I do.
Well, no. Actually, I don’t. He’s so protective of his sister, he would tell her. And even if she only tells one person, it could start to spread, and soon, everyone would know.
So I can’t tell him. Dean’s already made it quite clear that secrets are a deal breaker. We’ve always been on borrowed time.
We can be friends. Maybe watch the Eagles together some. But that’s it. Nothing more.
I close my eyes and roll over. Suddenly, I’m so relaxed that I can fall asleep, but I swear, I open my eyes a second later, and it’s morning.
My stomach still feels a little weak in the morning. I opt for a protein bar, so I can take more Advil. I’m not willing to take more on an empty stomach.
When I stroll into the police station twenty minutes later, I pause near the front desk and inhale. This place might seem like chaos to a lot of people.
To me, it’s home.
Although lately, things have been turned upside down even here. What, with Travis not being my partner anymore. I’m no longer a part of the vice team. I duck my new partner most of the time. Hate my new boss. I’m constantly under Lieutenant Reynolds’s skin.
I was suspended and reinstated. After the stunt I pulled with releasing Amarok, I’m one wrong step away from being canned.
Which can’t happen. My badge, my gun, my honor, that’s all I have. Sure, I have friends. Yeah, I have karate and my black belt. I have a house, a car.
But I don’t have family outside of those in the blue. My life is my work.
Before my parents were murdered, I wasn’t sure what exactly I wanted to do with the rest of my life. In a way, the worst thing that ever happened to me morphed into me finding my path. Becoming a cop was the best thing I ever did.
When Sirens Screech: A Mayhem of Magic World Story (Bedlam in Bethlehem Book 3) Page 2
