The Cursed by Blood Saga

by Marianne Morea

  “Cougar,” Sean said.

  “Cougar? As in Mountain Lion?”

  Sean raised an eyebrow. “I just fought the animal, Mitch, what do you think?”

  Mitch whistled low. “Big cats like those don’t usually venture this far east. What the hell was he doing in our backyard?”

  “It was a hit.”

  Four sets of eyes turned toward Sean. “A hit? As in assassination attempt?”

  “Are you planning to question everything I say tonight?” Sean eyed his second.

  Mitch grinned. “Sorry. I just don’t get it. Who’s got a beef with you so big they’d risk hiring an assassin?”

  Sean’s eyes met his. “I’ll give you one guess.”

  His second in command’s eyes hardened. “Just say the word and he’s a dead man.”

  “No. I want blood as much as you do, but this requires finesse or it’ll end up spin-doctored, and we won’t be able to touch him. Just take the body back to the manor. Don’t let anyone see you. I know what I need to do, so just be ready.”

  ***

  Sean kicked in the door to the war room, flanked by Mitch and another of his hunters, the tracker’s lifeless body wrapped in a blanket and slung over his shoulder. “Good evening, gentlemen. How apropos I find so many of you here, and in such good company,” he said, letting the venom drip from his voice.

  Almost half the council sat around the fire blazing in the large stone hearth, Edward Parr center stage as usual.

  “What’s the meaning of this, Leighton?” Ross Stanton asked, pushing himself up from his seat. The colorfully embroidered crest of the Avian Weres was visible on his shirt pocket.

  “Do you want to tell them, or should I?” Sean asked, directing the question openly to Parr.

  “I haven’t the faintest idea what you’re talking about,” the older man answered, his face a mask of nonchalance.

  “Hmmm. How about assassination? How’s that grab you?”

  A collective gasp reverberated off the surrounding walls, all eyes turning toward Edward Parr. “This is ridiculous. How dare you barge in here and hurl accusations at me? Where’s your proof?” Parr shot back with a dismissive wave.

  Sean dropped the dead body at Parr’s feet. “There’s all the proof I need.”

  Except for the crackling of the fire, the room was silent. Mitch took a step forward and rolled the body over with a muffled thud. Uncertainty buzzed around the room, but Sean’s gaze never wavered as he watched Edward’s face.

  The man was unperturbed, his expression a mask of complete indifference. “Rubbish. He could be anyone,” Parr stated, his Cheshire cat smile cemented in place and his tone as smooth as silk.

  However, after spending so much time in wolf form, Sean didn’t miss the underlying tang of unease coming from the man, despite his apparent lack of concern.

  As if he sensed it, Parr lifted his eyes to Sean, his gaze calculating. “And how convenient for you that he’s dead. Now no one can question him.”

  Sean crossed his arms in front of his chest, his gaze still locked on Parr. “He was a tracker. An assassin, known in certain circles by the name of Cat’s Eye. Perhaps you’ve heard of him, considering he hails from the Pacific Northwest, not far from where you originally came from, Edward.”

  “Sean, surely you’re not accusing Edward of such a heinous crime? It’s unthinkable…”

  Sean put up his hand. “Don’t waste your breath, Stanton. I was in the tracker’s head as we fought. I saw everything. But as Edward has so opportunely pointed out, it’s too late to question him, although you’re all welcome to see for yourselves,” he said tapping the side of his head. “Those of you gifted with telepathic ability are more than welcome to the instant replay.”

  No one moved, but furtive glances rounded the circle, making it clear to Sean and his hunters that Parr hadn’t acted alone.

  Sean frowned. He reached into his jacket and pulled out a set of falconer’s gloves, the same set given to him when he had accepted the call to be Alpha. Smacking them across his palm, he then threw one of the wide leather gauntlets to the floor between Parr and the dead tracker—the Alpha’s crest emblazoned clearly on the cuff for all to see.

  “All bets are off. As the Alpha of the Brethren, I hereby dissolve this council and retain complete rule by right of blood. I also claim Lily Saburi as my chosen mate. She is, by my decree, the Alpha Female. By clan law, anyone who brings harm to her, dies.”

  “Leighton! You have no right!” Ross Stanton shouted over the din of the other council members.

  Sean turned toward him. “Oh, yes I do, Stanton. I have every right, given to me by each of the clans when they gave me their blood and their oath. The diplomacy we shared was by choice—my choice. You and the rest of your cronies abused my trust and my loyalty. It is, therefore, now my choice to rescind that diplomacy, and reassert my sovereign right as Alpha.”

  Edward’s face was a still a mask of calm, but Sean knew the wheels were already turning behind his composed facade. The tracker was only round one.

  Sean turned his full attention to Parr. “You wanted the return of the old ways, Edward? You got it. You want to challenge me? You got that too. By decree, fights are held in a blood arena and are to the death, where there are no words for you to spin and nowhere for you to hide. Think you could handle that?” Without waiting for an answer, Sean turned on his heel and stormed out.

  ***

  The power window whined as it rolled a quarter of the way down between the front and back seats of the posh black Lincoln. “Just pull the car around to the back of the house.” Edward Parr said, his eyes the only thing visible from behind the smoky glass.

  The driver glanced into his rear view mirror. “Yes, sir. Would you like me to park and wait?”

  “That won’t be necessary.” Parr pressed his finger to the console on the side of the door and closed the window between them. The last thing he was in the mood for was a chatty, inquisitive driver.

  He pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes, squeezing against the pressure pounding his head from the inside out. Things were not going according to plan, but then again, when did they ever? Miller had failed, unfortunately, him ending up dead instead of Sean. To make matters worse, the tracker hadn’t been astute enough to keep Leighton out of his head, thus implicating Parr in the assassination attempt. Exhaling, he ran his hand though his hair and opened his eyes.

  His eyes narrowed, despite the dim light. He’d have to keep a low profile for a while, until some other opportunity presented itself to take the spotlight from him.

  Parr was used to relying on his wits to succeed, and over the years had mastered the art of contrivance, of exploitation and subterfuge. An outcast without a pack, he never knew what it was to have strength in numbers. He was a loner, a throwback, a genetic anomaly forced to rely on his own instincts for survival.

  His kind was believed extinct for millennia. Yet, latent recessive genes, from years of prehistoric crossbreeding had somehow become manifest in his bloodline. Combine that with the preternatural nature of shifters, and voilà, the last American Lion, once the most feared predator in both North and South America, was reborn.

  If it could happen once, then it could happen again. Parr had experimented with cross breeding and mutation and eventually found a way to bring the big cats back from the brink. Of course, they weren’t exactly the same as their ancient ancestors, but they were close, with a few added talents thrown in just for kicks. The American Lion would once again rule all Weres, and humanity would fear them the way they had once upon a time. Now he just needed the right host. A woman.

  His dream was within reach, and to make sure it came to fruition he’d have to sharpen his claws even more. Across Leighton’s throat… he thought with a smirk.

  The car swung wide onto the long drive, the tires crunching through unplowed snow. The house up ahead appeared to be deserted, just as he’d requested. Marcus had done well in choosing this latest ven
ue. One of Leighton’s ‘hunter’s in training’, the Alpha had misapplied the boy’s talents, keeping him pigeonholed at a computer with mundane internet searches. Of course, it didn’t take much to coax Marcus into switching sides, and with the promise of doing real Intel dangled in front of him for good measure, he gave up the goods on Lily without question.

  The sleek, black sedan came to a stop just to the right of the snow-covered porch. Its railings and supports had seen better days, with the weight of the snow adding to its imminent collapse at any moment. Two icicles hung from either side of the pitched roof like a set of jagged, crystal fangs. Parr’s lip curled, and his crotch tightened.

  Vampires were a taboo in their world, but his proclivities had always leaned toward the forbidden. The remembered feel of icy cold incisors against his skin had set his mouth to water. His gaze flicked to the small rectangular windows dotting the foundations edge, and his cock thickened even more.

  “Are you sure this is the right address? By the look of things, I don’t think anyone’s been here for a while.”

  “This is the correct address, so if you would just get the bags…” Parr’s voice trailed off, letting the distain in his voice finish the sentence for him.

  “Been driving people around these parts for years, but I never even knew this place existed. Who’d a thought, right off the main road like that…bam, a farm? Would you like me to clear a path to the door?”

  “No, that won't be necessary. Just get my bags.”

  The driver got out, making his way around to the back of the car, opening the rear passenger door as he passed. Stepping out into the ankle deep snow, Parr followed him around to the trunk.

  “Here you go,” the driver said, placing the bags on the ground.

  He never heard the shot.

  The bulkhead door to the storm cellar opened, and a stocky young man in a fur-lined parka poked his unkempt head up through the partitioned steel.

  “Get the bags, and then have someone clean up this mess,” Parr said, as he walked toward the enclosure, gesturing toward the steaming circle of crimson spreading under the rear tire. “Good job on the location, Marcus.”

  With a raised eyebrow, he looked at the young man’s coat. “Planning a trip to the tundra or are you telling me there’s no heat inside?”

  “No heat in the concrete corridors leading down to the bunker, sir. Been patrolling non-stop, ever since…well, you know…” Marcus answered quickly, flinching somewhat. Parr’s temper and lack of tolerance was something no one in his command wanted to incite.

  “Yes, that was an unfortunate, if not entirely unexpected complication,” he said, pulling his gloves tighter onto his hands. His gaze lifted. “I was under the impression you had taken care of that situation weeks ago, so why the need for patrols at this point? What haven’t you told me, Marcus? You know how I hate surprises.”

  “We did take care of it, just as you instructed. But it appears things didn’t go as expected, again.”

  “…and?”

  “According to tracking and intelligence, the situation has resolved itself...”

  “Where?” Parr asked, cutting the young man off midsentence.

  New York. Manhattan, specifically.” Marcus held his breath waiting for the explosion.

  Parr’s mouth spread into a wide grin. “New York City. You’re positive?”

  Stunned at his reaction, Marcus nodded. “Yes sir. Also, the latest report from our mole says the girl is headed that way, as well. Cochran is being sent as escort.”

  Parr threw his head back and laughed. “Cochran? He’s a fool. I couldn’t have asked for better news.”

  “Sir?”

  “Do what I said, and get the bags. When you have the mess out by the car taken care of, grab Leon and Tony and meet me in my office. We have a lot to discuss before I head back to the Compound.”

  Chapter Ten

  It was close to two a.m. when they finally got back to the apartment. Jack had phased to human the minute they hit the lobby, scaring the hell out of Mrs. Kwon as she poked her nose out of her apartment door. The poor old woman screamed so loud, Jack phased back, probably figuring a big, grey dog in the lobby was a hell of a lot easier to explain, than some random naked man. Lily shook her head. Jack still didn’t get that this was New York.

  Too tired to sleep and too wound up to call Sean, Lily finished washing and drying what was left in the sink from breakfast. There was nothing like mindless work to settle your brain and help you think clearly—that and a quick shot of Jameson’s eighteen year old, limited reserve.

  “Can you take this downstairs to the curb?” she asked, handing Jack the garbage.

  “Now?”

  “Yes, now. If we don’t do it now, we’ll miss the morning pickup,” she said, hanging the damp dishtowel over the drying rack.

  Grumbling, he took the bag and headed down the stairs, smirking as she called after him to keep his paws off her neighbor’s cat, and his clothes on if he ran into Mrs. Kwon.

  For the most part, Jack had listened while she reiterated what she saw in Michael’s mind, even though he had seen for himself via the channel she supplied.

  He let her talk as she washed the dishes, not really saying much, almost as if he knew she needed to go over it in her own mind just to be sure. Both agreed Sean needed to be told, but Jack wasn’t too keen on telling the police. Telling him Martinez already knew, went over like a lead balloon.

  Lily should have known better. No supe liked to have their existence outed, but her gut told her the detective was smart enough not to dismiss something outright just because it was outside the box. Martinez had his own brand of sixth sense, and that had to count for something.

  Rubbing her lower back, she headed down the hall to her room. All she wanted was a hot shower and her pillow, but somewhere in between the two, she needed to call Sean. She gathered up her toiletries and plugged her cell phone into the charger. Plain and simple tonight, that’s all she had strength for, so if that meant using human means of communication, then so be it. Just the idea of a telepathic battle with Sean exhausted her more than she already was.

  He wasn’t happy with her being in New York to begin with. Add her involvement with hunting a rogue vamp to the equation, and it wasn’t hard to guess what he’d say. But she was prepared. If he went all Alpha Male on her, well then…sorry…click. Sean wasn’t stupid, though. He understood her well enough to know she would never just sit back and let humans handle things by themselves. It would be tantamount to signing their death warrants.

  Her apartment had only one bathroom, and it was in the hallway. Armed with her fleece bathrobe and pajamas, Lily closed the door behind her and turned the lock. If Jack had to use the facilities, he’d just have to hold it until she was through. Then again, he could always head back downstairs and lift a leg against the nearest tree.

  She turned on the tap and brushed her teeth. Running a hand through her tangled hair, she grimaced at the dark smudges beneath her eyes and the hollows in her cheeks. Sean would hate how tired she looked. Not that he would say anything, though. To him, she always looked beautiful. God, she missed him.

  The bathroom was small, and like most apartments in the city, it took forever for the shower water to warm up. The complete opposite of the luxury she shared with Sean up at the Compound.

  With a sigh, she pulled the ivy patterned lace curtain back and stepped into the tub, making sure to spread the clear plastic liner evenly across the inside of the porcelain. The water was finally hot, and she turned, allowing it to cascade across her chest and back. She drenched her head, closing her eyes and sighing as the warmth and steam went to work loosening the knots in her neck and shoulders.

  Humming the theme song to Charmed, she wiped the water from her eyes, and then reached for her shampoo to lather, rinse and repeat, as the familiar words and tune numbed her thoughts. She finished up, rinsing the soap from her body, but stayed in the warmth and the heat, enjoying the peace and the mind
less roar of the water pouring from the showerhead.

  As she stood in the spray, a sudden chill crept over her skin, giving her goosebumps despite the moist heat. The sensation of wind, bitter cold and howling, caressed her skin and her mind.

  Sean.

  He was in wolf form. She’d know the wild animalistic feel of him anywhere. His need hit her full force, as did his growing frustration waxing full right along with the moon. Sean did his best to hide it from her, but they were so connected, she knew his discomfort the minute their minds touched.

  She sighed, but the sound was full of regret. Her body craved his too, but unlike hers, his need was primal, driven by a desire more lunar than love-starved.

  His mind was a barrage of want, buffeting at hers at every turn since she left Maine. It was exhausting, and after the day she’d had, the last thing she wanted was to deal with Sean and his amped up sex drive. Moreover, she hadn’t had the chance to talk to him, to tell him what she had found out.

  He had warned that things would get wilder the closer they got to the full moon, but he’d never said a thing about how their separation would worsen the effect on him. Sean was in agony, and her heart broke. But as things stood at this moment, he would have to wait. Guilt washed over her like a cold rain despite the heat from the shower. But what else could she do? She needed Sean rational so they could figure out what to do, and if that meant putting a lid on his libido for the time being, then so be it.

  She pulled the shower curtain back and stepped out of the tub, wrapping a long, thirsty bath sheet around her body, humming even louder. Sean was in the back of her mind, and she sighed. Lily… he called, and she sighed, again. Ding, ding…round one.

  ***

  It was dark, but the full moon hung high in the blackness, illuminating the trees in silver light. “Lily…” His voice held a desperate edge even as it brushed gently across her mind.

  He heard her humming, as she tried to drown out the feel of his voice in her mind. The sensation of warm water and the gentle rasp of a sea sponge feathered back along their shared path. She was in the shower, and his groin tightened, even as his paws scored the earth.