Midnight Dare

by Laurel Cremant

  She tapped her fingernails against the door handle clenching her teeth.

  Is that what everyone thought? That she'd disappeared to have some sort of tryst with Marcus?

  Justus opened the door and slid into the driver's seat.

  "Your boyfriend has some fancy toys."

  "He's not my boyfriend."

  "Uh-huh. I can smell him all over you," he said smirking at her through the rear view mirror.

  She clicked her mouth shut and glared at him.

  He chuckled at her and before she could think of a retort the back door opened and Marcus folded his big body onto the seat next to her.

  He glanced down at his watch.

  "We're later than I expected."

  Justus turned the key in the ignition and the car revved to life.

  "The roads are pretty clear. I'll get us home quickly."

  Marcus grunted his response and stared straight ahead.

  Georgia stared out of the window and watched the snowcapped trees whiz by.

  Oh the joys of traveling.

  Six

  Georgia walked up the three small steps of her home and breathed a sigh of relief. She had at least an hour to spare before she needed to be dressed and primped for the Christmas Ball.

  If her luck held she wouldn't have to see Marcus at all for the rest of the night.

  She turned the key in the lock and stepped inside.

  "It took you long enough."

  Why am I not surprised?

  Shaking her head she shrugged off her coat and hung it on a hook by the door before turning to the force of nature sitting primly in her living room.

  "Merry Christmas to you too Mama."

  Her mother sat on the deep red, suede couch situated in the middle of Georgia's living room. And as usual she'd made herself at home.

  A tray of cookies and tea sat on the coffee table and a magazine lay on her lap.

  Typical.

  Dressed in a white silk evening gown, with diamonds studding her ears and her long curling hair piled on top of her head in an artful display of salon magic, she looked like a queen holding court. Her mother never ceased to look elegant no matter what she wore or did.

  She didn't look a day over forty. But to be honest, Georgia doubted anyone who treated their moisture regimen like their religion would age much either. Growing up, that ability always held Georgia in awe, and it still did. But at times, it could be annoying as hell. She'd spent most of the day on a jet and she still felt grimy and groggy despite the luxurious amenities.

  "I was expecting you sooner."

  "I got here as soon as I could, trust me," said Georgia, walking over to her mother.

  She leaned down kiss her smooth brown cheek before standing and frowning down at her.

  "Now what the hell is going on?"

  "Language!"

  She rolled her eyes at her mother's admonishment.

  "Really, you have me fetched home like some errant child and you're surprised at a mild curse? And trust me, with the expletives running through my head right now, be thankful that I'm restraining myself."

  Pulling her luggage behind her, she walked passed her mother and entered her bedroom. She didn't bother closing the door behind her. She'd learned a long time ago that it took more than a shut door to keep her mother from pestering her.

  "You know, you're never too old to have your mouth rinsed out with soap."

  Her mother drifted into the room and sat down on the bed with the same amount of grace and composure as she would serving afternoon tea.

  Shaking her head, Georgia ignored her and lifted the suitcase to the bed.

  "You've been saying that since I was four, and it's yet to happen, so as threats go it's a non-starter."

  "Hmm, you might be right. Maybe it is time I start asking Marcus for advice."

  Georgia stiffened at her mother's words.

  "I don't know what you're talking about."

  "Sweetie, I raised you. I know when you're lying about something. Besides I have visions remember?"

  Her eyes widened in horror.

  "You saw—"

  Her mother tilted her head back, her tinkling laughter filling the room.

  "Saw what darling? Did you do something naughty?"

  Snorting in disgust, Georgia turned back to her suitcase.

  "I can't believe this. Most people get a Mrs. Garret, Claire Huxtable or Kitty Forman for a mom. Hell even Lois Griffin would be good. How did I end up with a mix of Morticia Adams and Lorelai Gilmore?"

  "I'd be offended if they both didn't have such great style."

  "Morticia wore the same thing every episode."

  "She was a woman who understood the importance of staples."

  "Jesus."

  "Again language."

  "I can't believe we're having this conversation."

  "I can't believe you still haven't jumped that man's bones yet."

  "Oh my god."

  Georgia sank down onto the bed and buried her head in her hands.

  "This is so not happening."

  "Georgia, you're not getting any younger."

  "Shit, it really is."

  "Ow!"

  She cried out at the pinch at her side and looked up, glaring at her mother.

  "I told you language."

  "How can you sit there and encourage me to go sex some man and then complain about language."

  "Don't sass."

  "You raised me. You're responsible for at least half that sass."

  "I blame your father for at least sixty percent of it. If not more."

  "Sheesh, I can't believe this."

  "You still haven't answered my question. How long are you going to ignore Marcus?"

  "Don't we have more important things to talk about? Like the reason I got dragged home."

  'You know more than anyone that nothing leads to everything and everything leads to nothing."

  "Oh great we now get to the riddle part of the conversation."

  "Hush!"

  Her mother stood and began pacing back and forth in the room a frown marring her otherwise smooth face.

  "Things are about to change Georgia."

  She stared at her mother's serious expression for a moment and nodded slowly.

  "I know."

  "No you don't. This is more than just your father choosing a successor."

  "What do you mean?"

  Her mother stopped her pacing and took a deep breath.

  "I had a vision about the pack's future...What I saw disturbed me."

  Ice frosted down Georgia's back. Very little scared her mother, yet the look on her face showed fear.

  "What did you see?"

  Her eyes watered and she shook her head.

  "The end or the beginning. I'm not sure, but either way I can't tell you."

  "But you told Daddy."

  "Yes."

  Georgia's breath left her chest in a loud whoosh of sound. This was not good.

  Visions weren't exact representations of the future. Free will and chance played a huge role in the outcome. A see'er understood that revealing a vision had the chance of making the outcome either better or worse. It always depended on the players and the moves they decided to make. No one could change fate, but they could determine whether their destiny was a blessing or curse.

  A king could be told that his kingdom would fall and either save his people and move to a new land or stay and fight, watching his people die. In both cases the kingdom fell, but the king's actions could change death to life. Very few people realized that they showed more strength in retreat than war.

  When a see'er's had a vision of an event they knew that elements of that glimpse into the future were subject to change. In some cases, the pieces of the puzzle were so exact that providing a warning didn't cause any danger. Like the warning of a natural disaster. But other, pieces, like death, were much more dangerous to convey. There was no telling what chain of events may be set off.

  For her mo
ther to be afraid of revealing the vision, meant that Georgia's actions however small had the chance of tipping the outcome of whatever she'd foreseen.

  "What does this have to do with the alpha succession," she asked.

  "After I told your Daddy what I saw he became convinced that choosing now would make a difference."

  "Oh Mama—"

  See'ers knew better than to mess with fate.

  "I know, I tried to tell him but he wouldn't listen, But...I think he may be right."

  "What?"

  "Choosing the next alpha tonight speeds up the time line of a decision he's already made. Darius has known who he would name alpha for a while now. By naming them now he ensures, that moving forward the golden pack has the strength of two alphas instead of one."

  Georgia frowned at that.

  "He plans on sharing power?"

  Two alphas sharing power at once was unheard of.

  Her mother looked away.

  "He plans on making sure the pack is well protected."

  "That's crazy."

  "No honey, that's your Daddy."

  A laugh trickled up her throat, but it sounded thin even to her ears.

  "Come on and cheer up. It won't be all bad."

  "Cheer up? You basically tell me that something wicked this way comes, and you want me to cheer up?"

  Shrugging her shoulders, her mother turned and opened the closet door.

  "Your father's mind is set and what will happen, will happen in whichever form we make it and it chooses."

  "Definitely Morticia Adams," said Georgia shaking her head.

  "It comes with the witch’s badge."

  "Thank God, I'm a half breed or I'd walk around driving people nuts all day too."

  Her words fell on deaf ears as her mother began to riffle through her closet.

  "What are you doing?"

  "Getting your dress out for tonight."

  Trust her mother to be all doom and gloom one moment and party planning the next. Sighing she resigned herself to one hell of a Christmas Ball.

  Lord help us.

  "I'm wearing the black dress."

  "Hmm, No. Too blah."

  "I can dress myself you know."

  "Of course you can darling."

  Why do I bother?

  Without looking up she knew which dress her mother would select—the turquoise one. Like clock-work the long dress had arrived on her doorstep a few days before she left for vacation. Every year before the holiday celebrations, her mother sent her a designer dress for the Christmas ball. Georgia never minded. More often than not, she wore her mother's selection. It saved her from doing the shopping herself and she could never fault her mother's taste.

  But this year's selection had been surprising. Its long silky fabric flowed over her body like water dripping down to her feet. The neckline was deceptive in its modesty before curving over her shoulders and plunging down to the top curve of her ass leaving, her back completely bare.

  The dress made her feel naughty and nice all at once.

  "Got it."

  "Uh-huh."

  Still not looking up, she leaned down and took off her boots, plopping them to the ground before standing and discarding the rest of her clothing. Walking to her bathroom as she spoke over her shoulder.

  "I'm going to go take a bath."

  "The ball starts eight sharp."

  "I know."

  "Georgia."

  "Yes?"

  "I love you baby girl."

  She paused at the threshold to the bathroom and turned to look at her mother. She'd been right, the garment bag for the green dress already lay on the bed.

  Glancing at the thin-strapped gold heels in her mother's hands she smiled.

  "I love you too."

  Turning she set entered the other room and began preparing for her bath.

  The long night stretched ahead of her and she wanted to take what little respite she could.

  ***

  Marcus entered his cabin and walked to the bar at the side of his living room.

  He took out a bottle of Glenlivet and two heavy bottomed glasses.

  Without hesitation he poured two fingers of the liquor into each glass and walked to his couch. Placing one drink on the coffee table he lifted the other to his lips.

  After taking a deep sip, he stared down into the amber liquid and spoke.

  "Is there a contract?"

  "No."

  A dark figure walked out of the shadows from the far corner of the room. Sergei.

  "One of these days you're going to learn how to ring a doorbell."

  His friend shrugged and made his way over to him.

  "You weren't home."

  "What do you know?"

  If there was no contract for Sergei to take care of then why had the Council sent him?

  Sergei settled into the large chair across form the couch, ignoring the whiskey on the table.

  Marcus, watched him, taking in Sergei's large frame and pale, almost ethereal white skin with one glance.

  Sergei was often referred to as the Ghost. The moniker had little to with his complexion and everything to do with his ability to come and go undetected. Even most shifters with their heightened sense of smell and hearing were unable to sense him unless he wanted to be found.

  Marcus was an exception. He'd always been able to sense Sergei and as a result the two had become unlikely friends. Sergei had once told him, that he worried that one day he would just disappear. It was a sentiment that Marcus understood.

  "All I've learned is that the alpha's woman has had a vision."

  He nodded. That much he knew as well.

  "It seems to have caused quite a stir."

  "Has she shared it with anyone?"

  "Only Darius as far as I know."

  "Perhaps not."

  "Is that why you're here?"

  "I was told to witness the order of succession."

  Marcus shook his head.

  "Why send a Ma'at for this? Why not a usual emissary instead? An enforcer isn't needed to witness."

  "I thought the same thing, but my orders were clear. Come to Golden Valley and serve as Council witness when Darius announces his successor. But I did learn one thing—Serafina is the one who assigned me."

  Marcus froze at those words.

  Serafina was the highest ranking member of the Council. For a directive to come directly from her confirmed his suspicions. Darius and his mate had shared the vision with the Council and whatever choice Darius was about to make would have ricocheting effects not just within the Golden pack but throughout the shifter world.

  "This may get ugly," he said.

  Sergei's lips lifted in a small smile.

  "I had a feeling you'd say that."

  "When are you scheduled to leave?"

  "That's where it gets interesting. I've been told to remain in the area until further notice."

  Marcus grunted.

  Curiouser and curiouser.

  Raising his glass in salute he smiled.

  "Merry Christmas my friend."

  Tilting his head back he drank the remainder of the smooth liquid, letting it sting his throat.

  It's going to be an eventful year.

  Seven

  Georgia stood in the small alcove of the ballroom trying to decide whether it was safe to venture out in the open and snag another glass of champagne.

  I should have taken a bottle.

  Midnight was approaching and the last few hours had been draining.

  Her mother had out done herself. The ballroom was swarming with the members of the Golden Pack dressed to impress along with several other shifters from neighboring regions.

  A small jazz band played on a stage at the end of the room and waiters wound their way through the throng of celebrators carrying hors d'oevres.

  She'd played the role of dutiful daughter in the beginning, making small chat and dancing with grabby handed men. She couldn't wait for her cycle to be over and done. U
nlike what humans were taught to believe, a she-wolf's heat didn't drive all the men around her wild with lust. The pheromones released heightened their awareness and served to put them at attention, alerting them that the woman available for mating. But every wolf understood that it was an invitation only event. That didn't stop some men from trying to take advantage and every year Georgia had to fend off every pup who thought it would be cool to date the alphas daughter.

  This year proved to be no different.

  She smoothed her hand down the bright fabric on her hips. Her dress didn't seem to be helping matters either, but she didn't regret wearing it. The sexy sheath given her an added boost of confidence she'd needed to make it through the evening.

  Sighing she watched as another waiter marched by with a tray of champagne just out of her reach.

  "Thirsty?"

  She stiffened at the sound of Marcus' voice.

  It looked like her reprieve was over.

  He stepped into view holding two glasses bubbling with champagne and joined her in the alcove.

  His scent engulfed her and she took a step back hoping to lessen the effect his presence had on her senses.

  "Do you ever get tired of stalking me?"

  He handed her a glass and turned to watch the room.

  "Not really," he said.

  She sighed and took a sip of the chilled liquid.

  "Has anyone told you how beautiful you look tonight?"

  Her hand clenched around the fluted stem.

  "Several," she whispered.

  He nodded.

  "I'm glad. I knew you'd look stunning in that dress."

  A prickle of dread skated down her spine.

  "The dress?"

  He turned to look at her and smiled.

  "Merry Christmas."

  His gaze flickered down her body like a caress, creating a trail of fire wherever it touched.

  "I couldn't resist the idea of your draped in nothing but silk."

  She swallowed hard and wrenched her gaze away from him.

  "You play too many games."

  "Only the best kind."

  "Whatever you think this is Marcus, it's not."

  He ignored her words and titled his head to the crowd.

  "It's time," he said.

  The music wound down to an end and Georgia watched her father step onto the small stage. Her mother stepped up beside him, her head held high and regal. As a pair they made stunning tableau. Her mother petite and dark, next to her tall father standing tall in his black tuxedo, his pale skin almost glowing beneath the lights.