by J. C. Diem
“I don’t need to eat, boyo.”
That was enough to make the werewolf do a doubletake. “What are you?” he asked, not for the first time.
“That’s classified,” Liam told him. “But Crowmon is right. We all pull our weight on this team. Even Yas helps us make breakfast, although she drinks our blood rather than eating solid food.”
“Speaking of blood, who’s turn is it to open their veins this time?” the bloodsucker asked.
My stomach gurgled, making me grimace. It seemed I needed to quench my unholy thirst as well.
“It’s my turn,” Brynn said in resignation. I couldn’t afford to lose blood now that I needed to drink it to replenish my strength, so I’d stopped donating it to Yas. “Come on, leeches,” she said after filling two glasses with her blood. “Drink up while it’s still warm.”
Franko’s mouth dropped open when he watched me follow Yas over to the wereconstrictor. His expression filled with disgust when he saw me gulp down the glass Brynn handed me. “How much of a parasite are you?” he asked in near horror.
Licking my lips clean, I turned to regard him. “More than the twins. Less than the supreme alphas. Any other questions?”
My cold tone and the hostile glares from everyone else made him flush. “I knew you were a hybrid, but I wasn’t aware that you drank blood,” he said stiffly.
“Aunt Lexi and Uncle Reece have to drink blood,” Brynn told him. “Some hybrids have different needs to others.”
“You two don’t need to drink blood?” Heath asked, pointing at the twins.
“Nope,” Nick replied, then flipped the bacon over before it could start to burn. “We don’t have as much vampire in our systems.”
Franko shook his head incredulously. I turned my back on him to rinse my glass out. I was glad he’d had such an adverse reaction to seeing me drink blood. “Now maybe he’ll stop hitting on me,” I muttered.
“Don’t count on it,” Yas said as she handed me her glass to rinse out next. “The alpha hole isn’t going to give up that easily.”
Her nickname for the rookie brought snickers from us all, which made Franko glare at us suspiciously. He’d made no move to help prepare breakfast even after being told participating was a requirement.
When our meal was ready, Yas scooped Emma from my shoulder and ambled into the living room. Franko skirted around them as he headed for the table, still leery of them both. Emma’s head swiveled to follow him so she could keep him in her beady sights. He’d been here for less than twenty-four hours, but it was clear nobody liked him or wanted him here.
After breakfast, it was time to train. Heath stayed on my heels as Yas and I followed Syd to the indoor gun range. I already knew it was going to suck having him watching me. He proved my hunch right when he started laughing at me when he saw me in action.
“I’ve never seen anyone so bad at shooting before,” the alpha said when I turned to glare at him. His laughter had been so loud that I’d heard him even with my earmuffs on.
“It’s the spells,” Yas reminded him with a scowl. “It isn’t her fault she sucks at everything.”
“Seriously, even a five-year-old human could shoot better than you,” Franko said, ignoring her completely.
I was tempted to turn the gun on him and see if I could shoot him at pointblank range, but Sydney shook her head in warning. The werecougar’s lips were pressed into a thin, unimpressed line. Her new student was disruptive, insolent and annoying. “Are you going to stand there, staring at Alex’s butt the whole time, or are you going to do some training?” she asked him pointedly.
“I’ve already been trained with guns extensively,” he said in a challenging tone. “I bet I’m a better shot than you are, little kittycat.”
“Ooh, that sounds like a challenge,” Yas said gleefully. “Are you going to stand for that, Syd?”
Cocking her head to the side, the werecougar’s smile was serene rather than pissed off. “I’m up for it,” she agreed and motioned for us both to step back.
Glad to have a reprieve from embarrassing myself, I took my safety glasses off and moved out of the way. “A hundred bucks says Syd wipes the floor with Franko,” I said.
“I’m not dumb enough to take that bet,” Yas scoffed. “We both know she’s way better than he is.”
“You haven’t seen me shoot yet, leech,” Heath said. “Why do you always wear that bondage suit?” he asked with a sneer. “This isn’t a brothel.”
“They protect me from the sun, moron,” she retorted. “I wear the suits all the time to break them in, so they don’t creak every time I move.”
“Are we going to do this, or what?” Syd asked before the werewolf could retaliate.
“I’m ready when you are,” Franko said. He winked at me, then sauntered over to stand next to our trainer.
Sydney handed him one of the Colts that we used while training. “On the count of three, empty your magazine into the target,” she said. Several magazines were lined up in front of them both.
I shared a grin with Yas, then we put our earmuffs back on when the two opponents readied themselves.
Syd counted down loudly. “One. Two. Three!”
On three, the werecougar rapidly emptied her magazine. Every shot went through the bullseye. Franko was just as accurate, but he wasn’t as fast. He gave her a smug look when she pushed the buttons to bring their targets to them. “See?” he said in vindication even though it had been a draw. “I told you I was good.”
“You said you were better than Syd,” Yas reminded him. “All that proved was that you’re accurate, but slower than she is.”
Instantly insulted, he didn’t get a chance to retaliate. Sydney pointed at the fresh target she’d just hung up. “That was round one, Franko,” she said.
Heath swapped his target for a new one, still confident in his abilities despite the fact that the feline was faster than him. “I’m not sure why we should bother,” he said when she pushed the buttons to return the targets to their usual spots. “I’ve already proven myself.”
“This round is going to be harder,” Syd told him with a grin. “This time, we’ll be shooting with one hand.”
The werewolf’s eyes narrowed, but he nodded. “I’ve had practice using one hand before. This should be easy enough.” His tone was a little disturbed that she might actually beat him.
“On three,” Syd said after they’d both loaded fresh magazines into their guns. She counted down, then rapidly fired her weapon with her right hand. Every shot went through the bullseye again, but Franko nicked it with two of his bullets.
“Hah!” Yas shouted in glee. “The little kittycat wins, loser!”
“I hit the bullseye with every shot,” the rookie protested.
“You just winged it with your last two shots,” Syd said. “But we’re not done yet. We have another round.”
Franko was angry that she was clearly better than he was when it came to shooting. His face was flushed, reminding me that werewolves had the hardest time holding their tempers. If he lost it, he might try to hurt her. While I wanted him gone, I didn’t want him to harm anyone in the process. Yas seemed to know what I was thinking and nodded at me. Far faster than any shifter I’d met so far, she was ready to act if he proved to be a danger.
Chapter Six
AFTER THEIR TARGETS had been changed and fresh magazines were loaded into their guns, Syd told the alpha what their third challenge would be. “This time, we’ll shoot with our left hands.”
Franko instantly scowled. “That’s not fair!” he protested. “I haven’t had any training shooting lefthanded.”
“You should have thought of that before you challenged her,” Yas said without a shred of sympathy.
“On three,” Syd said and lifted her eyebrow to wait for him.
Unwilling to concede defeat, Heath switched his gun to his left hand. I could tell by the awkward way he was holding it that his confidence was gone. He was too stubborn to give up and point
ed it at the target.
Sydney counted down, then rapidly unloaded her magazine. Again, every shot went directly through the bullseye. Franko only managed to hit his bullseye a couple of times. The rest were scattered near it.
“Not bad,” Syd said rather than crowing in triumph. “We’ll work on improving your aim with your weak hand.”
“There’s nothing weak about me,” Heath snarled, humiliated at being beaten by a lesser shifter.
“Touchy, touchy,” Yas said in a singsong voice. “No one likes a sore loser, Franko. Suck it up and act like a man, not a five-year-old kid throwing a tantrum.”
For a second, I thought he was going to snap at her taunts. Then he reeled in his temper. “Are we done here?” he asked in a raspy voice.
“We’re done,” Syd confirmed. He tossed his Colt to her, then stalked over to the door and let himself out.
We waited for the door to close before bursting into giggles.
“He really didn’t like being beaten by a kittycat,” I said when we had ourselves under control.
“I thought he was going to shoot you when you made fun of him just then,” Syd said to Yas.
“So did I,” the vampire confessed.
“His gun was empty,” I reminded them both.
“There’s still another magazine he could have used,” Yas pointed out.
“That was meant for the fourth test, if it turned out the alpha hole could shoot with his left hand,” our trainer said, making us both snicker again.
“What was the fourth test going to be?” I asked.
“Put your earmuffs on and I’ll show you,” she replied mysteriously.
We all put our ear protection back on and she motioned for us to join her at the wooden barrier. “On the count of three,” she said. When she counted down, she closed her eyes and rapidly emptied her magazine.
“Holy crap!” I gasped when I checked her target. Every bullet had gone through the bullseye again. She could shoot far better with her eyes shut than I could with mine open.
“Franko didn’t stand a chance against you,” Yas said in admiration. “I want to be you when I grow up.”
“How the hell did you do that?” I asked in awe.
“I had the best trainer in the world,” the werecougar said with a shrug. “My dad taught me how to shoot when I was still in diapers.” We thought she was kidding at first, but she didn’t laugh along with us.
“Is it true your half-sister is a better shot than you?” I asked.
“Lexi has a natural talent for shooting,” Syd said without envy. “She might not be my dad’s daughter by blood, but she might as well be. She was better than my father before he became a shifter. He reclaimed the title after his speed and accuracy received a boost. He’s probably the best shot in the entire world.”
“Damn,” Yas said with a grin. “The only thing either of my parents could boast about was which one of them was the biggest couch potato in our family.”
Nick stuck his head through the door, interrupting our conversation. “Which one of you girls bruised the alpha hole’s ego?” he asked.
Yas and I both pointed at Sydney. “She did it,” the vampire said. “He thought he was better at shooting than she was and she handed him his ass. It was priceless.”
“I wish I’d seen that,” he said with a grin. “A job has come up. Liam wants us all in the living room.” His tone was serious, so I hung my weapon back on the peg. Syd hung Franko’s borrowed Colt up as well. We would clean them later, when we had time.
Heath was still sulking when we filed into the main area. He was slumped on an armchair with his arms crossed, refusing to look at anyone. Crowmon cut a look at the alpha and rolled his eyes at the drama.
“What’s up?” Brynn asked when we were all seated.
“I just heard from one of our contacts,” Liam said. “A vampire matching Killion’s description has been spotted in Phoenix, Arizona. It seems he’s bought another nightclub and has been taking control of the gangs in town like he did in Denver.”
“Who’s Killion?” Franko asked.
“He’s a master vampire we’ve had a couple of encounters with,” Nick explained.
“What sort of encounters?” the alpha queried.
“He and his goons kidnapped me and tried to drain my blood,” I said when Liam gave me a nod to answer him. “The team saved me from him, but they came here and broke into the base to try again. The herd chased them off.”
“Vampires can’t kill living beings,” Heath pointed out. It didn’t come as a surprise that he showed no concern about whether I’d been injured during their attacks. It was becoming pretty obvious that the werewolf was self-centered. “How could they have tried to drain you?” he asked. “Their bites are toxic to normal shifters.”
“They were going to use needles and tubes to drain her,” Liam explained.
“Why did they try to break in here?” the new recruit asked. “Are they obsessed with you or something?”
“Killion made a deal with the witch who stole me from the hospital,” I told him. “She apparently offered them more power if they bring me to her. She’s determined to have me back under her control.”
“That’s why we’re keeping Alex’s identity a secret,” Liam said. “The fewer people who know who she is, the safer she’ll be.”
“It doesn’t sound like she’s very safe here if a bunch of walking dead men managed to break in,” Franko scoffed.
“We have extra security now,” Brynn informed him coolly. “If they’re stupid enough to return, they won’t be able to break inside so easily.”
“Are we taking the jet to Phoenix, or are we driving?” Sydney asked.
“We’re driving,” Liam said. “It’ll take around fifteen hours to get there, unless Alex drives.”
“You wouldn’t do that to us, would you, bro?” Nick asked, face paling slightly.
“What if Emma and I drive to Phoenix, then I send her back to get the rest of you?” I suggested.
“I’ll go with you,” Franko offered. “We can take my Corvette. It’ll be much faster than the SUVs or that boxy van.”
Liam didn’t look happy about the thought of me being alone with the alpha for an extended period of time. He saw the nasty smile on my face and remembered how hellish it was to be one of my passengers. “Good idea,” he said, instead of dismissing it. “I’ll book hotel rooms and arrange for transportation to be waiting.”
“We’d better grab our gear,” I said to the new recruit. I headed upstairs with the alpha hot on my heels. Knowing we’d be gone for a while, Emma said goodbye to her crystal squirrel. She leaped up onto the dresser and hugged the figurine, while I stuffed my laptop and snacks into my backpack. “Come on, Em,” I said. “It’s time to go.”
Putting the figurine down, Emma obediently jumped onto my shoulder. I grinned at Crowmon when I ran into him in the hallway. “You look happy, lass,” he noted warily. “Are you really that frightening behind the wheel?” He’d figured out why everyone had been quietly freaking out at the thought of driving all the way to Phoenix with me.
“Yep, but that’s not why I was smiling.” Okay, I had to admit that I was gleeful at the terror I was about to inflict on Franko. “Emma loves the crystal squirrel you stole for her,” I told him. “She just hugged it goodbye.”
Heath overheard me and let out a derisive snort when he stepped into the hallway. “Zombies aren’t capable of feeling emotions,” he refuted.
“I didn’t realize you were an expert on the undead,” I said snarkily. “Are you a necromancer in disguise?”
“No,” he said in insult, as if I’d accused him of having a communicable disease. “Everyone knows the dead don’t feel anything.”
He turned around and jerked in surprise when he found Yas standing directly in front of him. “What you know about the dead and undead couldn’t even fill a thimble, Agent Franko,” she told him. He didn’t have a comeback for that one and grumbled beneath his breath a
s we trooped down the spiral staircase.
Chapter Seven
I’D NEVER SEEN A SPORTS car up close, let alone driven one before. I admired the sleek red vehicle when we entered the garage. Franko handed me the key, smiling smugly as I silently drooled over his ride. “It’s fitted with a radar that will notify us of any speed traps,” he boasted. The PIA vehicles had special government plates, so the cops never pulled us over. I wasn’t surprised to see his surname displayed on the Corvette’s plates.
We stored our gear in the trunk, then I slid behind the wheel. Emma made herself comfortable on my lap and stared at my passenger in silent judgement. I adjusted the seat and mirrors, then waited for Liam to open the garage door from the coms room. Franko hadn’t been given a device to open it yet. Barely waiting for the door to clear the roof of the car, I gunned it and we shot out into the open.
Heath couldn’t quite muffle a yelp of terror as I careened down the mile long dirt driveway. The tires skidded for a few yards when I slammed on the brakes. We stopped only inches away from the electrified gate. He gave me a sickly smile when I looked at him. “You’d better buckle up,” I warned him. “Things are going to get pretty hairy during this trip.”
For a moment, his arrogance almost overruled his common sense, then he took my suggestion as the gate swung open. I waved at the camera to thank our boss for triggering it to open, then I stomped on the gas.
The usual exhilaration I felt at being behind the wheel was heightened now that I was driving a sports car. The engine throbbed with power and made the seat vibrate slightly. I gave in to my urge to see exactly how fast it could go once we reached the highway. Franko held onto the seat and door with a death grip as I wove through the traffic. People saw me coming and did their best to get the hell out of my way. My cheeks were sore from grinning so hard after a couple of hours.
A warning beeping noise had me slowing down moments before a police radar could bust me for excessive speeding. We’d left Denver in our dust and were heading southwest towards Arizona.
“You really like to drive, don’t you?” Franko asked. He was trying to be nonchalant, but he was coated in a light sheen of nervous sweat. It was common in my passengers, so I was used to it by now.
