by C. N. Owens
All I can think about is how angry Trent will be if he catches me sitting with this piece of crap, talking to him, but I’m not sure what else to do. I have no way of defending myself. If I shift, and if what he says is right, I might bond with him… or something. “And what if I don’t want this?”
“I understand that you may not want this. But when your other form sees me again, the bond will be sealed, and you will love me, the way I already love you.”
“You have no idea who I am,” I say, tasting acidic coffee rising in the back of my throat.
“I don’t have to. I knew your ancestor Sara, and I see so much of her in you. She was strong, yet sweet. She hadn’t seen half the troubles that you have, but she, too, was wise beyond her years.”
I fake a smile and lock my thoughts away. “How does it work?”
“I don’t know, honestly.” He laughs, seeming to be enjoying this conversation. “But when Sara and I saw each other for the first time, it was automatic. Regretfully, it didn’t work that way with us.”
“Then Cassie had to put her down.”
He nods. “And I am still in mourning for her, in some ways.”
“I’m sorry,” I say, unable to take what he is saying as anything less than sincere.
He goes silent for a long time, studying me… to the point of being creepy.
“You okay, buddy?” I ask.
He shakes his head and smiles pleasantly. “I can’t wait to show you our home.”
I can’t do this anymore, I think, as the reality of everything he’s said slams into me like a semi. “Our home.” I repeat, and he nods. None of this is my choice. I have no say. My face flushes, my skin tingles. I wonder what’s happening, but it’s all too obvious. High emotions cause the change. I wonder if I could fight him off.
“I would prefer that you wait; I have a very seductive place for us to see each other in our transcendent forms. You could shift right now, though, if you like. We would make a mess of the people here, and it would all be for naught. You resist what your other half wants so badly… you’ll see what I mean.”
“Maybe I should,” I say as I rise from my chair. Leila, calm down, I think, knowing this is exactly what he wants… the beast might fall for him this time, and then it’ll be done. I look back at Bento; he’s unmoved. He knows my threat means nothing, and I can see that he’s not lying about anything. I relax a little, realizing that no matter how I look at this, I have no choice, the same way Trent must have felt before he gave in to instinct.
He smiles. “I agree; I think you should shift. I’d love to see your other half again. If I remember correctly, she is just as angelic as the girl I see before me.”
He’s charming, if nothing else. I shake my head. “What happens now? Why all the formalities if I have no choice?”
“I know your past. I want you to want this as well. Even though it would be much easier to command your respect, I want to try to earn it first.” He looks behind me and his smile melts away, as does all the color in his face. “Pity,” he says with a sigh, “Vlad didn’t do his job.”
I’m afraid to look.
Strong warm hands slide onto my shoulders. “I am gone for a few hours, and already, you are talking to the enemy.”
“Oh, God,” I whisper.
I peek over my shoulder to see Trent standing behind me in jeans and an old stretched-out red sweater. His skin is reddened, and he looks as strong as he ever was. Teary-eyed, I turn and wrap my arms around his neck, nearly hanging from him. “I swear, I didn’t do anything.”
“Not around all these people, Bento, please,” Trent says with a quaking voice, trying to temper his rage.
Bento shrugs, and Trent pushes me behind him.
“People die every day,” Bento says, and his eyes flash yellow.
Trent lets out a terrible growl. “She belongs to me!” He shoves me backward harder, into the lady who was texting, but I recover quickly, his fury fueling mine.
Bento rips his shirt open. This ends tonight. I step to the side of Trent, but he stops me.
“Go, you don’t want the deaths of all these people on your conscience,” he says.
“No, this is our job—you're my partner.”
Trent looks down at me and snarls. Newly formed fangs cut into his lips. He rips a necklace from around his neck and drops it into my hand. It’s my focus. “Take this… protect it,” he says and grabs Bento. They lock arms, their transformations almost complete.
Clutching the necklace, I back away slowly, wishing I had the nerve not to listen to him. I turn and run when they tumble toward the exit, entwined, ripping and biting at each other. Sirens wail all around me—police speeding in from all directions. I abandon my flip-flops on the way to the car, sprinting through the curious crowd of people, and drop the necklace on the seat, locking the key inside with it.
Helicopters hum in the sky above, closing in, their spotlights tracking something on the ground, drawing closer. Back toward the battle, I approach the crowd, but they turn and run toward my direction when the sounds of multiple gunshots echo off the tall buildings.
“Get out of here!” I yell, grabbing random people by the arm and pushing them away. Some listen, others are too dumbfounded to realize what’s going on. I run and stop behind a police car, just as the body of a helpless victim slides across the pavement, making a horrible grating sound, leaving a streak of red behind him. The two battling monsters come back out. Trent plows through the corner of a building and swats at Bento, ripping a chunk of wobbly flesh loose, but the wound instantly heals.
“Miss!” I hear behind me, and an officer grabs me by the upper arm. “Are you stupid? Get the hell out of here!”
“No! Please, listen, you are the ones that need to get out of here!” I struggle to get free, but the officer lifts me up and slams me down onto my stomach, slapping cuffs on my wrists.
“I don’t have time to deal with you,” he says, hoisting me from the ground and planting me beside his patrol car.
I lick the blood from my busted lip. “You’re making a mistake,” I say, hearing menacing howls everywhere. The sun is setting. I stand and look out toward the water. The full moon hangs low in the crimson sky. My vision clears the longer I stare at it. I take a few steps away from the car but grunt when I am jerked backward and slammed on the trunk of his car.
“What did I just say?” He sobers when he sees my face. A stretched, distorted mess, I’m sure.
I slide off the trunk. “That’s the last time you will ever manhandle a woman.” The cuffs flex and snap off my wrists, my strength increasing exponentially, and before I can realize what happened, my clawed fingers penetrate the officer’s belly, just below his ribs. Now several feet taller than him and still growing, I raise him into the air, loving the metallic scent of his blood rolling down my arms and the gurgling sounds he makes as he struggles to take his final breaths. In an incredible display of gore, I pull apart, and the man falls to the ground, splayed open. I told him he was making a mistake.
***
Cassie
“No!” I leap from where I lay sleeping and land on my feet, the memory of what happened earlier shocking me awake.
“Leila!” I yell and run to the other side of the bed. She doesn’t respond. “I’m going to kill her,” I say, assuming that again, she didn’t do as I instructed.
Before she left, it looks like Leila cleaned and dressed Andrea in a lovely yellow blouse, and a pair of dark jeans. As if she knew, Leila finished off her outfit by putting her in her favorite high heels, black leather with pointed toes. They showed off her muscular calves and made her long legs seem to go on for days. Her skin tone is off, and her neck is ruined, but otherwise, she could be sleeping. “You were the only person who accepted me completely,” I whisper and touch her hair, the color of wheat, like a candle’s flame, I think, my vision tinting red as they mist over with tears. “I already miss you so much, and I’ll always love
you.”
I stand and unlock my phone, dialing Gordon’s number. It rolls to voicemail. “Gordon, Andrea’s dead, as well as Trent. Leila is missing. I need you here straight away.” I hang up and take a breath, wanting to scream.
***
Leila took my car, an Audi S8, on her little road trip. It made finding her convenient; I can track that car wherever it goes. Andrea showed me. She was way better with technology. I’ve just made it through Clearwater proper and am about to reach the causeway when I roll the window down—a chorus of howls echoes across the water. I speed up, weaving through the light traffic but jam the brakes when I find that the causeway is shut down by the police.
I reach behind me and grab my blades. My Audi is parked a half mile away, across the causeway. Per the GPS it’s in a parking lot, and it was shut off four hours ago, but the car was unlocked twenty minutes ago. She might be sitting in the car, but I think that’s unlikely.
Just as I step out of the car, I run to the front and duck behind the bumper in just enough time to avoid a small army of werewolves—betas—heading for the fight. They’re slower than others, large, but old and gray, covered in scars. I know this pack. I stand, survey the damage to my car, just a couple large dents and gouges from claw marks. It’s a Lincoln… It wasn’t my favorite, anyway.
***
Blood, black in the evening light, covers the street like oil, filling the rain gutters. The air feels thick; it’s hazy with tear gas and metallic with the scent of blood. I find my Audi undamaged and Leila’s focus sitting on the seat. Small blessings, I suppose.
The pack of aged werewolves, the ones I met on the bridge, didn’t last long after clashing with another much younger pack, but all of them, young and old, lay scattered about the street and parking lot, most of them in pieces. I see the source of the killings off in the distance; three large werewolves, circling each other. I dash for the group and stop along the edge, staying in a shadow, trying to avoid the police. They have fallen way back, undoubtedly deciding there’s nothing they can do. I can only assume they are waiting for reinforcements. I reach for the now two necklaces hanging around my neck—Trent and Leila’s foci—and take off toward the fight, fifty yards away. One of the older betas is still alive and turns on me. I don’t want to kill it, so I dive away when it lunges, and hit it hard with an elbow, hoping to discourage it, but it turns again and swats. I duck and charge, severing its leg and then its head with ease.
I’m surprised to find Trent, Leila, and Bento. The two watch Bento off in the distance, who bounds through a mass of victims like a dog playing in leaves. My two are calm now, being so near their foci gives them control. I’m a little disappointed, though, having arrived late. I’ve never seen how a mated pair defends their territory.
“Look at the mess you two have made,” I say and step toward them. “Trent, finish it.”
He looks at me and, with a growl, takes off toward Bento, who doesn’t react until Trent is on him. His massive paw-like hand wraps around Bento’s throat, and he lifts him into the air and slams him onto his back, crushing the asphalt underneath him.
“I love watching this,” I say to Leila, only half-sure she understands me. “It has been an age since I’ve seen him so strong… He’s unstoppable.” Trent’s other form is peeling away, he almost steps out of it, yet still wields his paws and massive forearms. Three more swats and he does enough damage to make Bento want to escape. He skitters backward, but Trent doesn’t let him go. Arms and claws falling away, Trent continues, slashing at him with limited time, until Bento also falls out of his other form, too weak and injured to maintain it.
“I told you what would happen, the next time we saw each other,” Trent says, but doesn’t give Bento a chance to respond and jams his clawed right hand into his chest. Seconds later, he removes it, clutching Bento’s heart.
He looks to us, and to my left, I see that Leila has collapsed and is coming out of her form as well. She stands, and he looks to her, steaming, gasping for breath. She says nothing, but takes a few steps toward him and drops to her knees on the bloody pavement.
“I’ve let you both down,” she says with a small voice.
His eyes are solid black orbs; fangs and jagged teeth still fill his mouth. With his free hand, he guides her eyes to his by the chin. “You kneel before no one.”
“Trent,” I say, and he snaps back to attention.
“There are more betas out there, still alive,” Trent says, and wipes a streamer of bloody drool from his chin. “Should I go after them?”
“Yes.”
“Leila, protect Cassie,” Trent says. “We’ll have more than werewolves coming for us now.”
“I will.”
Without a moment’s hesitation, he takes a bite out of the still-pulsing heart in his hand. He lets out a groan, and once again, I see his skin redden and grow tight. “I’ll see you soon,” he says, before his other form nearly bursts from his skin in a spray of blood and flesh and he takes off into the night.
Leila looks out over the carnage. “Why do those people look familiar?” she asks, while modestly covering her breasts with her arms.
“They were his pack. You remember them from the Moose Lodge.”
“Oh, God. That makes perfect sense.”
“Yes. It wasn’t just any celebration, that night. It was your homecoming.”
“And now they’re dead. This is also my fault.”
“They made a choice, and they were loyal to the end. Trent will be sad when he has time to think about it, but in a way, he’ll be proud of them.”
“Why were they so old, did he mark them that late in life?”
“No. They tried to give up the curse when he did, and it does bad things to betas. Come now, it’s time to leave.”
Chapter 29
Trent
I arrive at the house shortly before sunrise and find Cassie waiting for me in the living room. She’s wrapped in a blanket, sitting in the leather chair she bought me, looking like a worried mother. Strange, vampires don’t get cold, I think as she shrugs the blanket and stands when I enter the room.
I stop at the entryway. “I know what you’re going to say.”
She crosses her arms and slowly shakes her head. “You know this cannot stand.”
“I know, but I didn’t know what else to do. Something happened.” A familiar feeling hits me—fresh thoughts that aren’t my own. “Wait, there’s something else,” I say. “Andrea. Holy shit… I’m so sorry.”
Bottom lip quivering, Cassie trots to me and wraps me up in a hug. “I know. Don’t worry about what happened in Clearwater. You did what you had to do,” she whispers into my neck. “We must hasten our plans to disappear.”
“I know. I’ll go wherever you tell me to, and Leila will follow, we won’t give her a choice.”
“Who instigated this?” Cassie asks.
“I can’t be sure, but I don’t think Leila knew what was happening, when she felt Bento drawing close. I think she just followed the scent and was surprised when she ran into him.”
“More training,” Cassie whispers, still clinging to me. “You’re so warm,” she says, distracted by her envy of my human feel.
“Lots of training,” I say, and gently peel her off. “Where is she now?”
“Upstairs, sleeping. We talked for a bit last night. She’s petrified, and she blames herself for everything. I gave her a sedative to calm her down and help her sleep.”
“She’s ashamed. That’s a good sign, right?”
“Yes. I couldn’t get Sara to stop after her first taste of blood.” She gives me a nudge. “Enough talk. Go see her.”
***
The early sun beams in through the tall rectangular windows along the opposite wall of my new room. The bed is empty, but I can still feel the warmth, and I can smell her on the disheveled sheets. There’s activity in the bathroom, so I walk over to the dresser and grab a little something that has been si
tting in the back corner of my sock drawer… just in case.
The door swings open, and she stops in the doorway, resplendent in an airy white silk slip and loose flowing pants, matching in color. She gasps when she sees me and takes a small step backward. Her feet are so pale, if they didn’t bear a hint of pink they would disappear on the immaculate white tile of the bathroom.
“Not the kind of hello I was expecting,” I say.
She matches my step forward with another step backward. “I don’t know if I’m ready for this.”
“Ready for what?”
“The thing in your pocket.”
Damn, she’s good. I pull the small velvet box out of my pocket and set it on top of the dresser. “Done. Don’t worry about it.” She remains silent and crosses her arms, still not willing to leave the bathroom. “So, you were in love with me hours ago, and now this?”
“You died.”
“Is that what happened?”
“Vlad got your focus from Cassie while she slept. He damaged it, but Cassie was able to replace the finger bone.”
“Bad ass,” I say. “I don’t remember anything. There was nothing but blackness, and then, like flipping a switch, I was back, and the only thing I wanted to do was find you.”
She shakes her head. “I’m confused. You show up, find me alone with your enemy, and then I don’t listen to you. You should be mad at me right now, you should be demanding answers.”
“That’s what you expect from a man?” I close the distance between us, not giving her a chance to escape. “I’m not like the men you’ve been with. I trust you.” I reach for her and don’t let go of her hand when she tries to pull away. “What are you afraid of?”
“What you’ll think of me.”
“What now?”
She hisses and steps away, wringing her hands. “Everyone I love… dies.”
“Leila— “
“It’s gotten stronger. I see everything now, and it’s driving me crazy.”
“Hey, I know the struggle.”
She raises a hand to shut me up. “I’m not this angel you have built up in your head. I see those thoughts right now, and I assure you, once you discover the things I’ve done—”
