Pallas
By
Annie Nicholas
Vanguard Elite, book 5
Table Contents
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
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About Annie
Note to Readers:
Every time I return to the Vanguard world, it’s like taking a trip down memory lane. I’ve never been the type of person who fits in with the popular crowd. I marched to the beat of my own drum, even now as an author. So why wouldn’t I love writing about the outcasts of the wolf shifter packs. Sometimes a woman just wants to root for the underdogs.
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Chapter One
The sweet scent of death clung to the corpse even though the Sheriff and her deputies were in the deep freeze of winter. Twisted on the forest floor, the body lay under the sparse bushes, boots sticking out. Sheriff Leona Lee set her hands on her hips and tried not to take any deep breaths. There went her appetite.
Snow up to her knees and her fingers about to fall off from frostbite, she knelt next to Joe, who as the chief deputy was responsible for crime scene investigations. “Do you have what you need so we can move the body?”
He nodded solemnly as he snapped a few more photos. “Not much to collect with all this freshly fallen snow. Not even a footprint.” He shook his head. “Poor Bob.”
Yeah, poor Bob. What was his body doing on this piece of land in particular? Her gaze honed in on the city worker who had reported the find. “Okay, let Murray know you’re done so he can do his job while I speak with the worker.”
“The worker’s name is Paul Snyder.”
She gave Joe a grateful nod. Small towns. She had been Sheriff of Alberg for three years and should know everyone by name, but she just wasn’t social. Not like Joe, who grew up here. He knew everyone and their second cousins.
“I’ll speak with Paul.” She rose to her feet and crossed over to where Paul leaned against a tree, head down, hands against his knees.
Must be his first dead body.
He glanced up at the sound of her boots crunching on the fresh snow. “Sheriff.” He offered to shake her hand. A lot of townsfolk didn’t agree with her stance to allow a pack of werewolves to move into the area. Paul mustn’t be one of them. She didn’t expect to get reelected, but there was no legal recourse to prevent shifters from moving in with a vampire. Mentally, she sighed. He was a whole other can of worms.
“What brought you to this part of the woods?” The locals avoided the area like it was radioactive. She pulled out the notepad she always carried in her back pocket and flipped to a clear page, writing out Paul’s full name in her chicken scratch.
“I came to check the water testing unit.” He pointed to a sewer lid that had been cleared of snow. “There’s a flooding issue in the area and we’re sent to check the levels every week.” He wiped a hand down his pale face. “Never had any issues until this evening.”
“You have the land owner’s permission to come every week?” Leona knew who owned this stretch of wild country. No Trespassing signs were posted on every third tree around the border. The vampire took his and the pack’s privacy very serious. He had also specifically told her to keep the citizens of Alberg away for their own safety.
Bob’s body drew her glance before she returned her attention to Paul.
“This narrow strip of land is considered an easement so Waterworks doesn’t need to inform him.” He visibly swallowed. “But I ask anyway. I don’t have a death wish.”
“Bob’s body isn’t by the sewer though.”
Paul dropped his gaze and shifted the weight on his feet. “I had to take a piss.”
“That’s when you saw him.”
He lifted his jacket to expose his wet crotch. “Yeah.” His eyes darted to the setting sun. “Can I go now, Sheriff?” Since the vampire had moved into the area, she noticed people checking the sun’s position more often. It meant more than time around here now. She’d be damned before setting her schedule around Pallas’ clock.
“We might need to question you further, Paul. So don’t leave town.” She waved him to his truck. The location of the body bothered her. It wouldn’t be common knowledge that Waterworks monitored the water levels in the area weekly. The killer had probably thought this was a good place to dump Bob’s body.
She twisted to face the cruisers, the ambulance, and the work truck parked together in a confused mess along the snowy dirt road leading to the water monitoring unit. Except the road was cleared of debris, and from the old mounds of snow along the edges, it had been plowed at some point during this winter. A dead giveaway it was traveled.
So why dump Bob here? She could think of a dozen better places to hide a body. But then again, it was her job to think about these things. The killer could have panicked.
Paul paused, taking a last look in the direction of the corpse. “That’s Bob Sanders, isn’t it?”
She rested her hand on his shoulder, giving it a squeeze. “It is.” There was no point in not acknowledging his identity. Not in the small town.
“Who will tell his wife?”
She sighed. “I’ll take care of it. Keep this to yourself until I can. She doesn’t need to find out through gossip.”
Paul hung his head and nodded. “I need a drink.” He stumbled to his truck and backed out from the easement.
She could use one, too. Murder in Alberg? Didn’t happen. It was why she’d chosen to move here. She needed tranquility after the turmoil of her last divorce. Talk about a war zone. She was a great cop but a terrible wife. Living in Alberg had been exactly what she needed until the werewolves arrived.
“Sheriff?” Murray, the deputy coroner for the county, gestured for her to join him by Bob’s body. “You should see this.”
She crouched next to him. Bob had been rolled onto his back, cloudy eyes gazing at the dark sky. The sun had finally set.
“Look at this.” With gloved hands, Murray exposed Bob’s neck and shone a flashlight on a set of bite marks.
“Shit.” There went any hope of an easy case. “Time of death?”
“Best guess is forty-eight hours.”
“I’ll call Homeland Security.” They monitored supernaturals nationally and had to be informed of any possible crime caused by them since they were specially trained to deal with vampires and shifters. She and her team were not.
“I don’t care if the teams are uneven, Nick. Do you think armies consider the fairness of numbers in battle? Work with what you have.” Pallas left the skinny wolf shifter to reinforce his team’s snow fort.
The age old game of capture the flag still existed while he slept the centuries away. He’d added the twists that they could build weapons and forts using only snow and ice. He climbed the porch and gazed over his open land, filled with scrambling werewolves preparing for his signal to engage in war. The thrill of combat flowed in his veins.
Maybe he should add real weapons? Now, that would be fun.
Pallas’ property extended far beyond his sight, encompassing most of the surroundi
ng forest. His manor sat in the center of an open field where the snow forts were built. Next time they would use the whole property. Extra points for prisoners.
The wolves had a few hours to work on construction and strategy. Winner received the brisket Pallas had been slow cooking since last night in a smoker he had bought in town. The people living in Alberg no longer screamed and ran at the sight of him. They seemed to be getting accustomed to his unusual appearance, but the store had cleared of customers quickly. Made waiting in line non-existent.
Vampire kind had needed to remain hidden the last time he walked the earth, then during his long sleep, they had revealed their existence. Now, he was expected to live out in the open.
He didn’t shop often. Most stores were closed after sunset, but the arrival of glorious winter meant the sun set earlier and he had a couple of hours to pretend to be normal.
Even though he didn’t look normal.
In the distance, Darrell slipped on the thin ice rink he’d built around his fort and landed on his back after almost levitating mid-air for a second. The busy pack paused as one then laughter broke out.
Pallas turned to face the manor to hide his grin. He’d been waiting all evening for someone to walk on the ice. It was a brilliant idea for defense. He glanced at his watch. It wasn’t really time for them to finish but battles weren’t fought on a schedule. This exercise was about thinking on four paws, but mostly it was for fun.
The pack had gone through hell on their survival trek over the weekend. Their alphas had almost eaten them. They needed something less life-threatening and more bonding.
“On the count of three, the game will begin,” he shouted over the general buzz of shifter noise.
“We still have time.” Clare, the alpha female of the pack, tapped her wrist.
He shrugged. “Not anymore. One!” He loved watching them hurry into position. When a whole smoked brisket was on the line, shifters got serious. “Two!” Snowball hoards were well-stocked. Walls had been built to defend their flags. Traps created for his entertainment. “Thr—”
The flash of police lights painted the night sky, turning the snow pretty shades of blue and purple. No sirens. Two vehicles pulled up to the manor. He grimaced. Not a social call from the delicious sheriff then.
He held up his hand. “False start, stay where you are.” He ordered his wolves. “You can continue your preparations.” He descended the stairs as Sheriff Lee exited her vehicle, accompanied by Deputy Joe and Deputy Wesley from the second car.
“Sheriff.” He nodded to her and eyed the others. They stank of fear. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?”
Sheriff Lee’s bun looked tighter than usual. He wasn’t sure why but it drove him mad. Like she was daring him to let all that hair loose.
“We need to talk.” Her lips pressed into a thin line. Her eyes strained and haunted.
“Are you here on official business?” Instincts sharpened by ages of fighting stirred. A general didn’t arrive at someone’s home armed with soldiers unless they expected a fight. In another time or place, he would have killed them and continued training his werewolves, but those days were long gone. He had promised his brother not to kill. To give this modern world and public living a chance.
Things in the old days were much easier.
And he liked annoying Sheriff Lee.
“I’m always on official business when it comes to you, Pallas.” She followed him onto the wrap-around porch. “Stay here,” she ordered the deputies.
“Ma’am, I don’t think that’s wise,” the older of the two men spoke out.
She hesitated at the entrance. “I’ll be fine.” Then she crossed the threshold as Pallas held the door open for her. A simple statement, but her trust struck him harder than a cast iron pan to the head. He had worked diligently for months to gain that trust and it had finally arrived.
Where were the trumpets? The parade?
He guided her to his office in the basement.
She eyed the space with surprise. “A classroom? Office? Are you doing something more here than giving shelter to this pack of wolf shifters?”
“No, I bought the place like this and I like the idea of having an office, though I don’t get to use it often.” The lie rolled off his tongue and tasted sour. He doubted a human would like to hear he was training werewolves how to fight. Good thing the weapons closet door had been shut when they passed it to the basement. He knew for a fact some of those guns would cause concern. He didn’t need the town marching to his home, pitchforks in hand.
She sat on the metallic folding chair in front of his desk as he sat across from her. “I have some questions that need answering.”
Folding his hands over his stomach, he leaned back in his chair. “Fine.” Her icy tone inspired spontaneous guilt. His mother had had that skill. If he and the sheriff had been involved romantically, he would have expected accusations of cheating to follow. This conversation wasn’t going to be amusing like their previous ones. He could feel it in his bones.
“Where were you this weekend?”
He blinked. “Am I suspected of doing something wrong?” He might not be born of this age, but he had spent much of his first few weeks awake watching television to learn about modern customs. Most of those had been crime shows and he had learned that police questions never seemed what they meant.
“You’re always suspected of doing something wrong. I showed you the list of nonsense complaints I get about you every day. Just answer my question.” Sheriff Lee sat on the edge of her seat as if ready for hand-to-hand combat. She was more agitated than normal, but at least she realized that the complaints against him were rubbish. She’d given him a summarized version at his request.
“I’ve done nothing illegal since moving to this area.” Some townspeople blamed him for dead animals or vandalized stores. One person claimed he had pulled lightning from the sky. That last one would be a splendid skill. Just not one he possessed.
“I know that.” She sounded annoyed. “But this problem is more serious than the others or I wouldn’t be here.”
He sat up straighter, leaning his elbows on the desktop. “Is this where I ask for a lawyer?” He had never understood that part when watching those shows. Human laws were complicated.
“Not yet. Answer the question, Pallas.”
He could hear her grind teeth.
“I was here.” He spread his hands to gesture at his home. “Except that night I crashed my car. Then I was with you.”
She snorted as she wrote something in her notebook. It was quaint. From what he witnessed, most people used their cell phones. To see ink and paper was comforting. That some old things were still used. “Who else saw you over the weekend?”
“Um, the wolves left Friday evening and were back by Sunday night. Besides you? No one.” Alone for two days. He’d almost lost his mind. Pack mentality didn’t vanish when a person was raised in one. The wolves weren’t here just for their own good. They were here for his benefit as well.
Setting aside her pen, she glared. “That’s it? Just me on Saturday night?”
“For all of ten minutes before you abandoned me in a snowstorm.”
“You can’t freeze to death.”
“Doesn’t mean I don’t feel the cold.” The walk home had been long. He hadn’t dressed for the weather. Taking a shortcut through the woods hadn’t helped matters. The snow had been quite deep in places.
“Sorry.” She bit out the word as if it cost part of her soul. “How’s the jaw?”
“All healed.” He snapped his teeth and she jumped. He had broken his jaw in the car accident with some minor brain damage. She had pulled him from the wreck.
Sheriff Lee shook her head, a frown marring her lovely skin. “A body was found on your property.”
“What were you doing on my land?” He had posted No Trespassing signs all along the border. It wasn’t just for privacy. Humans could get hurt if caught in one of his training sessions. N
ot to mention the wolves hunted these woods often.
“Seriously? That’s what you are worried about? A city worker found the body close to the easement where the water monitor is kept, and you’re worried about me trespassing?”
“I forget about that spot.” The human workers usually stopped by and spoke with Ian, the pack alpha, before trespassing. It was a smart thing for them to do but didn’t involve him. He was usually asleep when they came to check the monitor thing.
She sat very still, hand resting on the butt of her gun. “Is that why you happened to dump a body there?”
“You think I did this? That I’d be stupid enough to leave a body lying on my own land?”
“There’s a vampire bite.”
His dead heart beat once. It hurt from the strain. He rubbed his chest. “It’s not me. I don’t feed from people anymore. There must be another vampire in the area.”
She took more fucking notes. “How do you feed if not from people?”
He rose and crossed to a small fridge in the corner. Inside were bags of blood. The population of Alberg was too small and too frightened for him to hunt, according to the new vampire code. He’d starve to death if he had to seduce his food. A microwave warmed the stuff quite nicely. His part of the manor had electricity.
She stood slowly, head tilted. “I didn’t know you could survive off stored blood. Where does it come from?”
“My brother in Chicago ships it to me. After the whole house fire incident, we agreed feeding on locals could blow up in my face.”
She massaged the bridge of her nose as if easing a headache. “That doesn’t mean you didn’t fall off the wagon.”
“I don’t kill when I feed.” Not anymore. They needed more proof than this to arrest him. “Is the body drained of blood? Maybe those wounds aren’t bite marks.”
“The medical examiner is doing the autopsy as we speak.” She sighed. “The body we found is Bob Sanders.”
“Oh.” Pallas had to restrain from laughing. Good. He deserved it. The asshole had killed one of his gentlest wolves.
Pallas: Vampire Romance (Vanguard Elite Book 5) Page 1
