by Tara Lain
Table of Contents
Blurb
Dedication
Acknowledgments
Author’s Note
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
More from Tara Lain
Readers love Tara Lain
About the Author
By Tara Lain
Visit Dreamspinner Press
Copyright
Hidden Powers
By Tara Lain
Superordinary Society: Book One
Jazz Vanessen is weird—and not just because he’s a werewolf. For most of his life, he’s felt different from his alpha male brothers and friends. Since he’s adopted, he can’t even blame it on family.
Now eighteen, Jazz meets his idol, the social activist Lysandra Mason, and her breathtaking nephew, Dash Mercury. When Dash is around, even stranger things start to happen, including Jazz falling hopelessly in lust. Not only is Jazz having visions, making people disappear, and somehow turning invisible, but somebody’s following him and threatening to reveal his pack’s secrets to the world.
Together with Dash and Jazz’s equally amazing friends—Carla, BeBop, Khadija, and Fatima—they discover the danger is even more lethal than they thought, and Jazz’s weirdness may save all their lives.
To Saritza, who, like me, never tires of magic! And Brenda Chin, another magic lover. I’m so happy to be working with both of you.
Acknowledgments
TO THE amazing innovators of Dreamspinner Press, for being open to my ideas and making them better.
Author’s Note
HI! I’M so excited that you’re here. Superordinary Society is a brand-new adventure for me—a new type of story, a new world, and a new story structure. I created the character of Jazz a few years ago in my Tales of the Harker Pack. I kept thinking he needed to have his book, but at the end of the third novel in that series, it felt complete. Jazz stayed in the back of my mind. I knew he was special. He knew he was special. And gradually, the Superordinary Society was born. For my regular readers (thank you!) you’ll find this book a bit different in tone. Harker Pack meets Harry Potter. LOL. For new readers (welcome!) I hope you’ll enjoy traveling with me into the superordinary. Thank you for reading!
Chapter One
MAN, I’M weird.
Jazz Vanessen snorted at the thought. Exactly how weird could a guy be sitting in a huge room full of werewolves? But his skin kept crawling, as if some Sith lord was plotting his doom, and he wanted to scratch his arms and the back of his neck. He wriggled in his seat. No matter how he squirmed, he couldn’t get rid of the idea that somebody was watching him. Somebody who wasn’t a pissed-off member of the Marketo or Harker Packs, because they were definitely staring.
Next to him in the line of straight-backed chairs, his mom gave him a glance.
Focus! He smiled at her and forced his eyes on Merced Marketo, alpha of the Marketo Pack, who was holding court at the front of the room, but no matter how much he gazed, the ants in snow boots kept crawling up his neck. He shivered.
His mom hissed, “Jazz!”
He mouthed, “Sorry.”
Merced was saying, “We’re proud of our record of peace and the strength of the Harker/Marketo pack alliance that has helped to maintain that condition for three stable years.”
Somebody from the back of the room yelled, “So what? How about the future? What happens to us next year?”
Jazz’s superalpha sense of smell swamped him with scents of anger and resentment all around.
Another voice grumbled, “Yeah. Is some out-of-state pack gonna come in and take us out?”
Around Jazz, other wolves grumbled, stared at their hands, bounced their legs, and gave the Vanessen Pack glares that were evil AF.
Merced held up a hand. “Our future will be as strong and peaceful as our last three years. Don’t worry. Your pack leaders are on the job. We’ve got plans.”
Jazz shivered again and took a quick look over his shoulder. Between the smells clogging up his head and the creepy chills running up his back, he wanted to run out of the pack meeting. His mother sighed.
Somebody in the hall yelled, “What are your plans?”
Merced swallowed but smiled. “We’ll be sharing them soon. A whole plan for the future.”
A new voice, super aggressive, from a guy a couple of rows up, snarled, “We’re getting tired of the bullshit, Merced. We want to know what’s happening or….”
His voice drifted off. Nobody wanted to say the scary words—no alpha. No successor. There was no superwolf willing to lead the packs into the next generation. While the current alphas weren’t old, they should have appointed some new blood who were chewing off their paws to be the next leaders. They didn’t have them. Nada. Nobody. And for some reason, it had become a bigger deal than Jazz would have expected. Wolves tended to live for today by nature, but the packs had become a hell of a lot more than restless. They were angry.
Who did those furries blame for their fate?
The male who’d spoken turned and stared straight back at Jazz and his pack. Oh hell yeah. They hate us, but they want us to bail them out. No contradiction in that. Assholes.
Still, the dude had a point. Marketo and Harker didn’t have any alphas right now… because the alphas they’d had before had all left their packs and joined Vanessen. Except for Jazz, an orphan werewolf, who’d been adopted by the Vanessen family. But there was one teeny problem. The Vanessens–Jazz’s mom, Elizabeth, and his grandfather, Casper–were human, and humans weren’t supposed to know anything about werewolves. Except they did because Jazz’s adopted brother had shifted in front of them in an effort to save the man he loved, and the only way to keep them all from being killed by angry werewolves was to declare themselves a pack.
Stretched out on either side of Jazz were his adopted brothers, his adopted father, his brothers’ husbands, and their other pack members. They were the only young, alpha-class weres in Connecticut, and they were either married to other males or to humans or both, defying the two cardinal werewolf laws—there was no such thing as a gay werewolf and never reveal werewolf existence to humans, under penalty of death.
So why were they sitting here being recognized as a pack instead of dead in a ditch for defying the law? Easy. The alphas were too strong and Casper Vanessen was way too rich for the other packs to take out. But that didn’t mean the other pack members had to like them.
Jazz changed buttcheeks again and scratched at his neck.
Merced Marketo smiled like someone was holding a gun to his head. He waved an arm. “There’s lots of food. Let’s all get to it.”
Good move, Marketo. When they’re about to attack you, throw them some meat.
Most of the wolves in the room, especially the young ones, jumped
to their feet and performed a full-frontal attack on the table in the next room where huge piles of roast beef, ham, and turkey sent out aromas even a second-class wolf pup could pick up on. Jazz, who could smell mouse droppings in the next state, had to suck saliva back into his mouth at the enticing scents.
His mom turned. Man, he hated it when she looked like that. “You’re not usually rude.”
“Sorry, Mom. I feel weird, crawly. I apologize.”
She raised an eyebrow. “I’d say apologize to Merced, but I think he has his hands full as it is.”
“Ya think?” They shared a wry grin.
She put her hand on his forehead. “You feeling okay?” He loved it when she did that since it was such a mother thing, but he also wanted to laugh since werewolves’ body heat ran several degrees above humans and her checking his temperature was pretty silly.
“Yeah, fine. Just antsy.”
“Pack meetings aren’t a favorite for any of us, but we need to be a part of the community.” She didn’t add that it kept them all safe, but those were the facts. Renegade werewolves, no matter how powerful, were targets. “You hungry?”
“Always. Maybe we can fatten me up.”
She gazed into his eyes like she could force the sense of worth she held for him straight into his heart. “You’re gorgeous. You don’t need to be any fatter for that to be true.”
He whispered, “Look around. See any other werewolves so skinny they ought to be accompanying Dorothy to ask the wizard for a brain?”
She laughed, and he gave in and laughed too.
Man she was pretty, from her golden hair all the way to her solid gold heart. How did I get so lucky? “Want me to get you some food? Keep you away from the marauding hordes?”
“That’d be great. I’ll be with Damon and Pop-Pop.” She nodded toward her husband, Damon Thane, the werewolf who’d seduced her years before and come back to get her because he could never forget her. Beside him stood the mighty, though mighty small in this room full of giants, Casper Vanessen, Jazz’s Pop-Pop. Pop-Pop not only ran a huge, multinational financial investment company with controlling shares in businesses around the world, but also had become, kind of by accident, the alpha of the weirdass Vanessen Pack.
Jazz walked away from his family toward the mass of bodies around the serving table, and the vibe got instantly chill. Some pack members glanced at him suspiciously out of the corners of their eyes, and more just plain stared—not in what you’d call a friendly-like manner. He got in the line, and the couple ahead of him stepped closer to the wolves in front of them. Hell, I should crowd them, just for fun. But it was too much trouble to be a dick on purpose.
Suddenly the shiver snaked its way up his back again, and he snapped a look over his shoulder. What the hell’s going on? Aside from the whole hate-on-him thing from the other wolves, nothing seemed different. He tried to look like he didn’t care, which was kind of true.
Nobody wanted to stand behind him, so there was a big gap. Suddenly a cute female stepped into the space. “Hi. I’m Posy.”
He couldn’t help laughing. She had red hair, a curvy body, and false eyelashes three inches long. “I’m Jazz.”
“You’re one of those Vanessens, right?”
It was like there was a fill-in-the-blank between “those” and “Vanessens” where you could put in words like strange or creepy. “I guess I am.” He’d quit smiling.
“Is it true all your males are, like, gay?”
He felt the crease between his eyebrows and didn’t try to hide it. But she didn’t seem put off. “We’re not, like, gay, we are gay, and not all, but most.”
“Honest?”
He nodded once. “We keep it 100, lady.”
“But I thought….”
He stared at her.
She wrinkled her turned-up nose. “So much for gospel, right? I mean, there’ve gotta, like, be gay werewolves, since you’re, like, standing in front of me, right?” She laughed at her own joke. “I never knew anybody who was gay before.”
“Surprise.” He shuddered, harder this time, and glanced around but again saw nothing out of the ordinary.
“You okay?”
“Fine.”
“Well, I don’t care if you only like boys. You’re it, baby, no matter what anybody says.”
Suddenly Radsy, Bill Radser, a young male stepped out from a group of guys lurking near the windows shoving meat in their mouths and laughing like fools. He clamped a hand on her shoulder. “Get away from that freak, Posy. I never said you could talk to him.”
She jerked her shoulder away. “You don’t tell me what to do, asshole. I’ll talk to who I want.”
He reached for her again, and Jazz snapped out a hand and grabbed his wrist. “Leave her alone.” He actually startled himself, since he spent so much time hiding his strength from humans at school. But this was a werewolf—an asshole werewolf. No need to hide.
Radsy stared at Jazz’s hand, bared his teeth, and growled.
Jazz’s wolf stirred, and his hackles rose. Not a good thing in the middle of that room. If he shifted, he’d break about a million pack laws. Instead of going wolfy, he increased the pressure on the were’s arm. Radsy’s eyes got wider. Jazz’s grip got tighter. Radsy’s teeth bared, only this time in pain, not anger. A couple of the dude’s squad stepped forward, but they stopped almost immediately. It was easy to see why. Jazz’s brother, Winter, had just walked over to the food line. Two hundred and fifty pounds of superwolf. No one messed with Winter.
Jazz stared back at the asshole. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
Radsy gritted his teeth and said, “Yeah. She’s right. I can’t tell her what to do.”
“Keep your hands to yourself.” Jazz nodded and let go, ignoring the finger marks on the guy’s wrist.
Posy stepped closer. “Thanks, honey.”
“Sure.” Made another enemy. He walked the few steps closer to the table, looked up, and heard his own gasp.
Suddenly, every nerve in his arms and legs flamed with more fire than when he shifted, and he felt like the outline of his whole body was wavering in and out of focus. Sparks flashed in front of his eyes, his stomach turned, and his field of vision went white. In front of him, beyond the table near the back windows of the big building, stood a male. Huge and dark but almost transparent, like a ghost or a spirit—an evil, malevolent spirit—or… Sweet gods, I’m losing it. All the crap is real. I’m sick in the head. There are no ghosts. I’m crazy. I’m…. The bright white light behind his eyes rolled out from him like waves on some intergalactic sea, sounding into the universe.
The outline of the male wavered. The lights in Jazz’s brain went out, and in the sudden, terrifying blackness, the last thing he heard was Radsy laughing.
Then Jazz pitched forward into the dark.
IN THE woods behind the wolf pack meeting hall, Nardo shook himself. What just happened? Did someone see me? No, impossible. Not here.
There’d been some kind of altercation between silly young males fighting over a female. One of them must have gotten hurt. That’s all.
He turned and walked toward his car. His foot, usually so sure, twisted on a root and he staggered, falling to one knee. Damn!
Stupid werewolf fights didn’t usually make him dizzy.
A FEW miles away, the young man raised his head. “What was that?” His whole spine vibrated.
The woman, his mentor and aunt, said, “No idea, but it was powerful, I’d say. Not far away.” She frowned, perhaps a bit more emphatically than he’d have expected. I wonder why? “We’ll have to keep an eye out.”
He glanced at her as she drove. Eye out? Isn’t she planning to tell the Magicouncil? His nerves continued to quiver, but she drove and said nothing more.
Maybe he needed to keep an eye on her.
JAZZ BLINKED. Bright sun almost blinded him, but he saw his mother’s beautiful face staring at him. She looked super compassionate. Damn. He closed his eye. “Tell me I didn’t pass out in th
e middle of a pack meeting.”
“I always taught you not to lie. I have to be a role model.”
He flipped on his side and covered his head with his hands. “Jeez, Mom.”
“Before we deal with your humiliation, Jazz, tell me how you feel. The doctor examined you last night. We thought you were unconscious, but he said you were actually asleep. He couldn’t find anything wrong with you. I think he’s looking into narcolepsy.”
“What’s that?”
“Excessive daytime sleepiness.”
“Come on!” He sat up, his skinny chest bare above his floppy sleep pants. “I’m fine.” He pressed the heels of his hands into his eye sockets. “I can’t believe I did that.”
“You did that.” She didn’t sound like she was laughing. “Look at me.”
He dropped his hands.
“Young werewolves don’t pass out for nothing. If this was before your first shift, it would be understandable, but that was years ago. Has this happened before?”
Had it? “No.”
She nodded.
He exhaled. “Not exactly.”
“What?” Her hand gripped his leg.
“A couple times, I’ve gotten kind of lightheaded. No big deal.”
She stared at his face, frowning. “The doctor says you’re growing so tall, so fast, your weight can’t keep up, and it’s affecting your blood sugar levels.”
He leaped to his feet and paced. “Oh come on, Mom. All werewolves my age are tall, but they’re huge. Big and muscular. I can’t seem to gain a pound. I’m weird. A damned freak. Who the hell were my parents? Some kind of werewolf rejects?” He threw his arms out and had to take a deep breath to keep from getting dizzy. Oh hell. He gripped the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger.
His mom stood too. “You’re an alpha-class werewolf with great power, Jazz. Your parents had to be powerful.” Her serious expression softened. “And you’re a fine, honest, lovable person. They probably had something to do with that too.”
