Vampire (Alpha Claim 8-Final Enforcement): New Adult Paranormal Romance (Vampire Alpha Claim)

by Eros, Marata

  “—You must stop, Clyde.” Though I really appreciated his efforts, I had to say.

  I threw some juice at Clyde, underscoring my command and he loosened his hold on LeClerc. Planting his knee in his chest, he used LeClerc's body for leverage and stood.

  He stared at me, only a couple of inches taller now, but oh, he was so much more.

  Clyde was in tough shape. My original, unconscious call had raised something with purpose, but not enough form. He was really decomposed. I felt a little guilty, Clyde deserved to look better . Huh, I'd do better next time.

  My parents and Jade stared at Clyde, but he had eyes only for me.

  “Ah, thanks, Clyde. But, ah—you better go now, cuz the cops will be here, and I'm starting to get in trouble for zombies popping up like jack-in-the-boxes.”

  “Akin to the toy which winds?” he asked.

  “Yeah.” Technically, it was zombie-in-the-box but I felt that might be what my parents called, “splitting hairs.”

  Mom, was definitely more alert now. “Has he been the one making the separator bins smell?” she yelled, disentangling herself from Dad, who let her slide down the front of him, but kept her pinned to his body. None of us were too keen on getting close to LeClerc, who was writhing around on the floor moaning. He reminded me of a snake who'd been poked.

  Staying out of range, thanks.

  The Dog was relieved when the Dead One entered the cave. He smelled of the Boy in a way that the Dog did not understand but accepted. His nose never lied. The Dead One had subdued the feral and the Boy was Alpha to the Dead One. The Alpha Male had returned and the Dog would stand down. Protectors of the pack were in place now, and the feral was in great pain. The Dog could smell the Bad Male's agony and it brought a primitive and savage satisfaction. This was as it should be. The Dog sat, watching the Boy make the sounds with the Dead One.

  My eyes narrowed on Clyde. “Have you been... hiding out here, Clyde?”

  “Why, yes. You were incapacitated before, Master. There was nowhere to go, but I am able to follow your signature, as it were. Therefore, I found myself here.” He inclined his head slightly in deference, another blob of flesh sliding off his skull and landing with a splat on the tile entryway. Mom watched the dollop of gore fall with an expression between surrealism and disgust.

  Swell.

  Dad looked at me, like, what the hell. “Explain,” voice terse.

  Jade came away from the safety of my body, facing Dad. “My dad,” she looked down at the undulating heap on the floor, “came over here looking for me,” and even I could hear the dry swallow of her throat, “and he... hit,” she looked at Mom.

  Mom smiled and nodded her encouragement.

  Jade didn't go on. Couldn't go on .

  Mom said, “Actually, he shoved me into the wall.”

  Dad and I gave Mom A Look.

  “One in the same, Ali,” Dad said.

  There was no diffusing the act. If you touched a woman in anger, basically, you were A Loser.

  Dad and I got the concept, most guys got it.

  LeClerc needed more lessons from Clyde. Maybe, like a final lesson.

  Clyde was following my train of thought. “You tell me, ʻdo not kill him,ʼ but your heart says you wish his death. His imminent death.”

  Thanks, Clyde: didn't really want to share the whole tamale with The Parents.

  I sighed, hearing the wailing sirens of the cops coming, again.

  The cops parked outside the house and Garcia (of-effing-course) came at a sprint, gun drawn—Smith and Gale at his heels. They burst through the door. ( Let's have the whole world over , I thought randomly 'cuz, why not ?).

  They trained their guns on Clyde, who stood stock-still. I heard Gale gag, you know the type: the pre-barf cough, she was gonna toss her guts on the floor to join the rot.

  Nice.

  “Mr. Hart, what is going on here?” Garcia asked in a low, fierce voice, his gaze a steady menace on Clyde.

  “I think, from what I can piece together, Jade's dad came here to get her, assaulted my wife, and Caleb's zombie who was never put to rest took command of the situation.”

  We all looked down at Jade's dad who had ground glass embedded in the flesh of his face and throat.

  “And I came in and ascertained a 911 call was in order,” Dad finished.

  “Ya think?” I said to no one in particular.

  Gale had holstered her gun, a hand over her nose, shallow breaths escaping between her fingers.

  Clyde regarded her. “You. I know you.”

  “She's like me,” I responded to Clyde.

  “Not exactly. She is not a Master. But she feels—very good.”

  Cripes, zombie love for Gale.

  She backed away a little, smart girl.

  Clyde switched his gaze to Garcia. “The Master is under threat.”

  He swung a palm to indicate Jade's dad. The skin on his knuckles was gone from the abuse of Jade's dad, sloughing off with every squeeze.

  Clyde had everyone's attention, especially Garcia.

  “Did we not just discuss your future, Caleb? A future where you stop raising everything and using it as a weapon?” Garcia said, his eyes on Clyde, along with his gun, but his words were all for me.

  I was getting tired of Garcia. “Why don't you get your gun off my zombie?” I asked disrespectfully.

  Clyde hissed at Garcia, his black mouth opening, decay wafting out in an errant rush.

  Dammit , I couldn't let emotion rule because Clyde was tuned into my frequency, wasn't he? “Clyde, cool it, I got this.”

  Clyde straightened, his dead gaze glittering on Garcia, taking his measure. Garcia didn't know it but Clyde was calculating range, not judgment.

  Zombies weren't huge on ambivalence.

  “Caleb,” Dad said, warning me about my behavior.

  I gave him a look, and he looked back, watch it, pal.

  I sighed. “Listen, like my dad said, he came to our house. He shoved my mom.”

  My hands balled into fists and Clyde sidled closer to LeClerc.

  Garcia motioned with his gun at Clyde to move away from LeClerc.

  It wasn't until I gave the signal that Clyde moved to stand closer to me.

  “This is the danger I was talking about, Caleb. You're dangerous.”

  “Only if you threaten me,” I said, giving a look at Clyde.

  Gale and Smith were looking at Garcia. Slowly, Bobbi Gale took verbal charge. “I don't sense,” she swallowed as Clyde gave her a zombie-smile (black mouth, a couple of teeth, partial tongue), “that the zombie will act unless you threaten Caleb, Raul.”

  “I'm not threatening Caleb,” Garcia said.

  “Caleb feels like you're threatening his zombie,” she responded.

  “What does the zombie matter?” Garcia asked.

  “It matters,” Gale and I said at the same time.

  We looked at each other. She got me . Of course, she was AFTD.

  Smith said, “Garcia, we don't need this show of force. I'm a five-point Null, I think I have the situation under control.” He splayed his arms out away from his body like, duh.

  Garcia holstered his weapon, looking at Smith like bitch-slapping was an option. What the eff was happening with Garcia?

  Everyone in the room let out the breath they'd been holding.

  Clyde stared at Garcia. His guard was still up, and the smell was a cloud of rot. I was okay, but the rest of the group were breathing through their hands.

  Mom said, “Caleb, would you have... ah, Clyde, step outside for a moment please?”

  What was left of his eyebrow cocked, and some of it fell on the floor. Huh, he was in tough shape. “Clyde, can you go outside just for a sec?” I asked.

  “Of course, if that is what you wish. But, there are those present who give me lingering doubts about your safety.”

  Huh. “Tell ya what, why don't I call you if things get pear-shaped again?'

  He nodded, leaving to stand outside the fr
ont door.

  Everyone's hands dropped off their noses.

  I looked at Garcia again. “Anyway, LeClerc needs to get the shaft because he touched my mom. He broke into our house, he was going to hurt us, it's jail time for him.”

  “That's not for you to decide.” Gale opened her mouth to rebut Garcia who continued before she could, “But he has violated the terms of the restraining order that Andrea LeClerc initiated, so you're in luck.”

  Dad gave an apologetic look to Jade then said, “We're pressing charges. That man laid hands on my wife while she was here unprotected.”

  Clyde cleared his throat discreetly from outside.

  Dad looked at him. “... almost unprotected.”

  Clyde nodded.

  “There should be a clear consequence for this behavior. My son has just returned from the hospital, and was in no shape to offer assistance. He shouldn't need to.”

  Get at me.

  Smith whipped out his pulse-pad and laid his thumb on it. Facing Dad he said, “Ready.”

  Garcia and Gale hauled up a struggling LeClerc, and Jade pressed herself against me.

  Garcia slapped cuffs on LeClerc as Dad detailed the events as they happened, pausing to let me fill in the blanks. He was almost finished when there was a voice from outside the door.

  “Excuse me?”

  Unbelievable. The Organic from the hospital was here. Jezebel was doing a polite, backward lean away from Clyde, who hadn't budged from his sentry post at the front door. Her hand was pressed over her nose.

  “Master?” Clyde asked.

  “Nah, she's okay Clyde.”

  A tension that had been running through Clyde eased.

  He was on it. My zombie bodyguard. Awesome. The Js were gonna really appreciate this. Speaking of which there they were. John's red hair flopped as he walked, a half a head taller than everyone else.

  Well, wasn't this turning out like usual? A catastrophe, followed by everyone on earth showing up.

  “Hey Clyde, how's it goinʼ?” Jonesy asked, squeezing past Jezebel the Organic, with John on his heels.

  I smiled, I couldn't help it.

  “I have rights!” Jade's dad bellowed into Gale's ear.

  “Not right now. When you decided to violate the terms of your parole, your rights were negated,” Garcia told him.

  Jade trembled against me.

  I sucked her in tighter.

  John came up to me. “What now?” he asked, surveying the general mess.

  “What's this crap all over the floor?” Jonesy asked delicately, and Mom slapped her forehead.

  Gale smiled while she struggled to subdue LeClerc, who was so into resisting arrest.

  Again . He was a slow learner, the doofus .

  Smith had just shut his pulse-pad down and was turning to look at LeClerc when Jezebel asked, “Is this a bad time for Caleb's follow-up?” her eyes flitting from LeClerc, to mine, then to my parents, the cops and finally settling on Clyde.

  He was straightening the shredded lapels of his suit jacket.

  Yeah, kinda a bad time.

  Mom shrugged. “No, he needs to be seen after yesterday's ordeal,” she paused. Then as an afterthought said, “Excuse the odor.”

  Clyde sniffed at that, and she shot him the, I'm sorry but ewww-gross look.

  This was all so weird. Jezebel stepped through the lingering cops, corpse and creep and came to stand directly in front of me. Giving me a severe look she said, “You were supposed to rest today.” Her hand hovered over my core, and with a nod of satisfaction she stepped back. “You're subjecting yourself to way too much excitement here, Caleb.”

  The Js snickered behind me.

  Too Much Excitement, yeah, that was so Not My Life.

  Mom's hostess ability came online and she said, “Jezebel, thank you for coming, you can come into the living room and look Caleb over in there.” She looked at Jade and the Js. “You guys can come too.”

  “No way,” Jonesy said, “I'm staying out here with our man, Clyde.”

  John nodded. “Stuff could go down, what if Caleb needed us to manage things while he's playing patient?”

  Mom and Jade rolled their eyes. “Fine,” Mom said with a tone.

  Jonesy shrugged, he knew future food was more or less secure, no worries.

  Jade was more than happy to go with me, leaving her dad in the foyer.

  But, as I turned around he had reached out with his cuffed hands and latched on to the molding that ran the perimeter of the door.

  Smith had already made a wide berth around Clyde and Garcia was trying to jerk LeClerc off the wood.

  “Allow me,” Clyde said, and before anyone could do anything, he latched onto LeClerc and heaved him right out onto the front lawn.

  We all just stared at the spot LeClerc had been. Then how he'd evacuated the atrium and now lay in a heap on the lawn.

  “Damn man! You never disappoint, Hart!” Jonesy said, fist pumping.

  That was me, Mr. No Disappointment.

  “This is so out of hand I don't even know where to begin,” Garcia said, scrubbing his face.

  “Raul, let me stay behind and deal with,” and she looked at Clyde, who strode over to her. How she maintained her position was beyond me but she stayed rooted to the spot. He came to stand in front of her. All that decomposed strength waiting, the vibrating energy of the dead coming off him in waves.

  “How may I be of service, necromancer?”

  Gale gulped. “Caleb! A little help!”

  I walked out there, leaving the gang inside, the Js standing in the door opening, Dad standing behind them, John was taller than he was now.

  Clyde leaned into her, smelling her neck.

  Okay, this was getting frickin' weird.

  Gale mewled but did the lean, staying where she was.

  Garcia's hand hovered over his pistol. “Caleb!”

  “Get off me, I got this.” I looked at him, and he looked back, we were really starting to have a misunderstanding. “Stop being a panicker,” I said. “Clyde.”

  His head bent over Gale, but his eyes flicked to me. “Why don't you step away from Gale and we'll go from there.”

  He straightened, looking at Gale like a drowning man, his skin sloughing, but his eyes looked disconcertingly human—very human.

  She straightened up. “Thanks.” Shaky.

  “Welcome.”

  Garcia looked from one to the other of us. “Okay, I want it,” he pointed at Clyde, “back wherever he came from.”

  Smith said, “Come on, Raul, let's get back to the station, get bozo the clown booked...”

  “I heard that!” LeClerc hollered from the lawn.

  Smith and Garcia sighed, walking out together. “We'll keep in touch.” Garcia pointed to me, and I figured he meant the case.

  “Tiff would love the clown reference,” John commented.

  “Yeah she would,” I agreed.

  “It qualifies his shit,” Jonesy said.

  “There are ladies present, young man,” Clyde said with menace.

  Jonesy looked at Clyde. “Right. I didn't think about that.”

  “Possibly a pastime you should embrace,” Clyde responded.

  “What?”

  “ Thinking ,” he said, the suffix lost to the garble.

  Jonesy looked offended but didn't say anything more.

  Thank God.

  Jezebel poked her head out from between all the males at the door.

  “Okay, let's get hot, daylight's burning.”

  I trudged back in and turned once to give Clyde the signal that could he, by God , stay out here so I didn't have Mom pissed at me for the grave smell in the house.

  Clyde nodded, his eyes on Gale, and hers on him.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Jezebel gave me a clean bill of health and I was relieved because we had a big weekend/sleepover planned for Grampsʼ. I'd never missed a Labor Day weekend at his house since I was born.

  As a Level Five Organic, she
knew what she was doing. Although, I had the distinction of being her first minor to heal. Big surprise, that.

  Right now, Clyde was a problem that we needed to deal with. He couldn't hang around in the garbage separator. It was somehow wrong, and Mom was having a turtle about it. Parents.

  Gale, the Js, the Wellers (minus that dumb honeypot, Christi), and Alex had stopped by the house. It was Saturday morning and we were gonna deal with Clyde first then get hot at Grampsʼ.

  “Let's swing by the cemetery and get Clyde back to rest,” Gale said. Looking at all of us, her gaze finally came to Clyde. She struggled with some emotion that I couldn't understand but something was down, that was for sure. She turned to me. “Caleb, you and Tiff can put him to rest, right?”

  We nodded.

  “Okay, let's get to the cemetery.”

  I turned to Clyde. “Clyde, can you meet us at the cemetery?”

  “The place I dwell when I sleep in the earth?”

  I nodded.

  He stared at me. “Yes, I will rendezvous with you there,” he looked at a timepiece, the only whole thing of his outfit, “twenty minutes from now.”

  “Hey, does that clock thing work?” Jonesy asked, eying the pocket watch.

  Clyde's perfectly human eyes met Jonesy's. “Yes.”

  “Damn, Caleb, you gotta get organized! The eyes and the watch?”

  “Clyde needs a makeover,” John said.

  “Yeah,” Tiff said, snapping a bubble.

  “Raise in haste...”

  “Don't say it,” I warned Jonesy.

  He grinned, a slash of white in the shadows.

  Gale rolled her eyes. “Bry, can you take your sister and Jade, we'll meet up there.”

  “Ah, I want Jade with us. The Js can go with the Weller's.”

  She shrugged as though saying, whatever.

  Mom poked her head out the front door. “Are you going to take care of Clyde, then meet us at Pop's?”

  I nodded.

  “No dawdling, get straight there.”

  Dawdling, yeah-right . The Js were facing me and giving me the big Puss Alert.

  Dumb-asses.

  “Okay Mom. Don't worry about it, I can handle a simple corpse rest with Tiff and the police officer in attendance.”

  “Anyway,” she said, undeterred, “in light of your hospitalization , I want to be humored. So do it.” This was getting close to the I Will Eviscerate You lecture so I agreed in order to circumvent that possibility.