by T. A. Grey
That woman he’d loved was gone, buried beneath layers of pain and depression. When he blinked, he was surprised to feel wetness at the corner of his eye. He wiped the stray tears away with the palm of his hand and left his mate’s side.
CHAPTER 3
The following day Grayson called to hire more security at home. He wasn’t worried about the Donato family, but he wouldn’t take any risks to Anita.
Grayson showered and dressed before Anita woke up and got the hell out of that hole. As he drove away from that shit-storm he dialed his therapist—Rudy Katz. He had the doc on speed dial. That’s how often he talked to this asshole. And, yeah, he was an asshole. Grayson didn’t care because the man helped or at least pretended to help him.
Rudy’s secretary answered in on the second ring, sounding polite and cool as always. “Dr. Rudy Katz’s office. This is Mary speaking. How may I help you?”
“It’s Grayson. I need to see Rudy.”
A weary sigh. She knew him. She didn’t like him. That didn’t surprise him. “Mr. Blackmoore, it’s very nice to hear from you this evening.”
“I’m sure it is.”
“I’m afraid Dr. Katz is all booked up for this evening but there is an opening two days from now. Say at 8:30? Would that be possible for you?”
Grayson lit up a cig and almost laughed. “I’m twenty minutes away. How about when I get there you let me in to see him.”
“Really, Mr. Blackmoore, Dr. Katz appreciates your business but it’s not fair to other clients for you to take their appointments.”
“You think it’s gonna be a problem, ask him.” Silence. Damn right, he thought. She knew Rudy would drop all of his appointments tonight if Grayson wanted him to. They went way back. Friends and all that shit.
“All right, Mr. Blackmoore. We’ll see you in twenty,” Mary said, her voice heavy with disapproval.
“Good answer.” He hung up.
Grayson popped the middle console open and grabbed a bottle of AB. The blood tasted like paper on his tongue, but supposedly it nourished him. Nothing ever tasted good anymore. Not the fine stuff laced with fine red wine that his brother Dominic loved, not even Grayson’s own favorite—B positive. Nothing tasted good anymore. Hadn’t for a long time. Such was life for him. Grayson like his name. Dismal and gloomy.
He arrived in twenty minutes as predicted. Mary gave him a polite smile and escorted him into the doc’s office.
Dr. Rudy Katz had a big belly that hung over his expensive trousers and a leather belt with a gold buckle that glinted off the light from the lamp. He always wore a bow tie and a button up white-collared shirt. Ever the professional. Rudy had several specialties which is how Gray came into his services.
For one, Rudy didn’t talk bullshit or at least not much of it. Two, he was a vampire so he understood Gray better than any human or Were could. And three, Rudy specialized in alcoholism and other addictions.
“Grayson, you’re looking more morose than usual this evening. What’s happened?”
Grayson lit up another smoke, sucking hard until it burned his throat like acid. “She found the key to the nursery. She got in there and made a mess of everything. Threw the bassinet out the window, the toys, the books. All of it. After I got her to pass out I cleaned everything up and hid the key in a different place—on my key ring.”
“Maybe that’s for the best,” Rudy said.
“Yeah, maybe.” And here it was. The moment of truth. The reason why he came here. But Grayson struggled to say the words aloud—I failed a client and now he’s a corpse because of me. “Just a bad night…” Grayson said.
“When is there ever a good night with her?” Rudy asked.
His jaw clenched at the question. This is what he liked and loathed about Rudy. He knew Grayson hated the bullshit so Rudy played it straight; however, the upfront attitude was so on-the-nose honest it made Gray want to take a bite out of the bastard.
“Not in a long time.”
“Have you been thinking about what I said?”
That’s it. He couldn’t sit still any longer. He knifed to a stand and paced, skimming his hand over his short-cropped hair. “Yeah. I can’t do it. Can’t do it.”
Rudy sighed. “You have to do it. It’s the only way she’ll hit bottom. It’s the only way any addict will learn. You must leave her. You must take everything you’ve ever given her away if she refuses treatment. If you don’t, this path of destruction will never stop.”
Grayson pressed his forehead against the wall and squeezed his eyes shut until his eyes burned from the pressure. “You have no idea what you’re asking. She’s my bruid. My mate. I love her still.” Maybe not as much as he should, but he would always love his mate.
There was a long silence as his thoughts churned.
“She may be your mate but we know that’s only in name. It’s been that way for how long now? Why must you punish yourself for her crimes?”
“Watch your mouth!” Grayson’s eyes snapped at Rudy, a warning.
Rudy threw up his hands. “I didn’t mean any offense, of course. I know you prefer honesty, Grayson, so that’s what I’m giving you. It’s been a mating in name only for, what, ten years now?”
“Twelve,” he said, his voice hoarse.
“Addiction is a terrible disease, my friend. I’m telling you that because she’s never going to get well if you keep enabling her.”
In a flash of movement, Gray had Rudy by the throat, his back slammed against the wall. “Fuck you! I’m not helping her be like this. I hate that she’s like this. I want her back.”
Rudy spoke in a pinched voice. “Whether or not you see it, you are enabling her. She has all your money to purchase alcohol. She has that big house with bitter memories of two miscarriages lingering in the form of a permanently locked nursery door. She has nothing but time to sit and stew and drink herself into oblivion. You give her that support. You give her everything she needs to keep herself depressed and sick. That is the truth, Grayson, whether you realize it or not.”
Gray jerked back several steps feeling as though he’d been hit with a shotgun blast to the chest. It was his fault. Of course it was. It always was. He’d been born a bastard and would always be one. Unshed tears came to his eyes. “What the hell am I supposed to do?”
Rudy’s face softened. “You must level with her. Offer her the treatment at my rehab facility and tell her what will happen if she doesn’t take it. You must go through with it. If she says no you have to kick her out of the house, take away all financial support. All support unless she agrees to treatment.”
It felt like there was an arm shoved down his throat ripping his heart out. “How the fuck am I supposed to do that? I love her.”
Rudy nodded gently. “I know, but if you don’t, we’ll be having this same conversation next year, the year after, and the year after. Forever, Gray. The alcohol won’t kill her as a vampire. But she’ll forever be sick and the longer she’s sick with it, the longer it takes to recover. She can be well again, Gray, but it’s not up for you to decide that. It’s up to her. You have to realize that she may never choose to be well again.”
Gray lit another cigarette, wishing it was weed or something stronger to make him forget all this for a little while. “Listen, I know I need to do it. But I don’t even know where to start.” He glanced at Rudy, tired.
Rudy took a seat, absently rubbing at his throat. “Start by telling her about the rehab, show her the pamphlets I gave you. Tell her what it can be like again. More importantly, explain to her what you’re going to do if she says no. Kick her out onto the street. No apartment set-up, no financial allowance. Take everything away from her.”
“Yeah…yeah.” Gray sat in a leather sofa chair and hung his head. His body hurt. His bones felt brittle and old, used up. Some days, days like today and yesterday, he didn’t even want to be here. What was the point of his existence anymore? He used to have a mate to love and cherish and he’d done that. Those had been the happiest ye
ars of his life. But now? He knew he still loved her, that’s why he couldn’t push her away so easily. But that warmth between them had long turned to ice.
Gray laughed, the sound bitter. “You know she’ll turn to the first man she can sink her fingers into. She’ll fuck him, suck him, let his friends fuck her, anything to keep getting booze. How am I supposed to send her out there knowing she’s gonna do this?” His stomach spasmed at the very idea, nearly making him heave. Crossing his arms did nothing to alleviate the stress or pain. Hell, he actually broken out in a cold sweat instead.
“She might do all those things. Or none of them. We can’t predict how she’ll react, but eventually something terrible will happen and whether she will find herself alone in a cold, unfamiliar place, it won’t be a good place to be. She’ll wake up, Grayson. She’ll wake up and realize whether or not she does want to live. All we can hope for is that she chooses yes.”
Eyes burned from a mixture of stinging tears and cigarette smoke irritation. He scrubbed the palms of his hands into his eyes and rubbed hard. “Yeah…yeah. I’ll think about it.”
Rudy sighed. “You’ve been thinking about it for months now. Stop thinking about it and do it. The longer you wait, the longer she’ll stay sick on your conscious. This is her disease, not yours. The person who can fight it is her. If she has the will. She’s selfish now and you must push her away, like pulling a tick off, so that she may learn to fend for herself. That’s the only chance she has of turning her life around.”
Grayson stood, unable to keep still. These sessions never made him feel any better. Why the fuck did he even come? “Yeah…you make it sound so fucking easy. If it was easy I’d already have done it.”
Rudy crossed to him. Up close, Grayson could see the dark brown mole above his right temple. Rudy placed a hand on his shoulder. “Yes, but see you are stronger than her. And she needs you to be. She needs you to make her go to rehab or push her out of your life. It’s the only way either of you can go on with your lives.”
“Same old story. Same old answers,” Grayson finally said after a while.
Grayson left without a word. Mary sputtered a farewell and he didn’t utter a single word, couldn’t.
He knew he was an idiot for not listening to Rudy’s advice. He knew it. And yet, why couldn’t he go home and simply put his mate out onto the streets? He wanted to…in a way. The bigger part of him had always been the protector that part of him still needed to take care of her, not shove her into danger. And that was the crux of his problem.
But he knew, just as Rudy knew, that the only way to get on with any semblance of life was to do the very thing he went against—and feed his mate to the dogs.
“Fucking hell.” Now, how was he supposed to go about doing that?
CHAPTER 4
“He’s not your man, you fat cow!” The insult rang the length of the basketball court. The current crowd featuring one mad pregnant woman, one jilted angry lover, and the man between said two women was in the midst of a great row.
Arabella had seen plenty of baby-daddy fights in her day and didn’t hesitate to intervene. Plus it helped that most people in the pack knew and respected her.
“Hold it right there!” Arabella said nice and loud.
Whichever insult Amber the jilted lover was about to spew froze at Arabella’s command. It took only one second for Amber to realize who yelled the command and deduce that Arabella had no real power in this situation. Which was true enough.
Amber rolled her eyes. “Jeez, it’s just Ara.”
Ara had to give her credit, she was one of the few people who actually pronounced her name correctly. It was Ara pronounced like aura not air-uh.
“Yes, it’s me, which means this family drama is over.”
“Mind your own business, Bella,” said the man at the center of it all. Jeff Gordman was known around the pack. He was good-looking, quick smiling, and sweet with woman. He loved them and they loved him. That’s how he came to have two lovers at once, though Ara wouldn’t doubt if he had a few others on the side too. However nice Jeff normally was, when his women found out about each other there was always drama. This time one of them was big with his baby.
“Listen, you’re at the basketball courts where kids play. There’s even one right there, see?” Ara pointed to a mother pushing a baby in a stroller nearby.
Michelle, Jeff’s pregnant lover, glared a hole at Ara. It looked like Arabella had unwittingly made herself a punching bag by stepping into this conversation. “That’s Patty’s new baby. He’s about six months old. I don’t think he can even see us over here. Since you seem to be such an expert maybe you can clarify. Do babies that young see from, oh, thirty yards away?”
If anyone could glare well it was Arabella. She had a heck of a glare, or so she’d been told. She put her eyes to full force on Michelle. “I was trying to be nice about this but I can see that is no longer an option. There may not be kids around right this very second but that does not mean you three are allowed to stand out here and air the dirty laundry with a bullhorn. Take the drama home and finish it there.”
“Like I’ll go back with her!” Amber said. She pulled a cigarette out of her purse and lit up, sucking on it like this would be her last smoke ever.
“Oh please, slut, like you’d be allowed in my house,” retorted Michelle.
Jeff squeezed the bridge of his nose. “We’ll go to my place.” This announcement riled up the girls until they were both shouting at Jeff. Arabella couldn’t dredge up even a smidgen of guilt for him. Not even a faux-frown.
Aha! Ara’s eyes lit up. “You can use the conference room at the library. I’ll call ahead and tell them to let you use a room. As long as you keep your voices at adult, normal ranges then you’ll be fine. If you get loud, you know who the librarian is.”
Jeff groaned. “Matilda.”
Amber shook her head. “She’s the strictest librarian in the world. I can’t believe she’s still allowed to work there.”
“It’s because she works for free and does an excellent job,” Arabella said, grinning. Old Matilda worked like a horse and those who dared to break one of her rules would live to regret it later. Arabella had seen what Matilda was capable of. She shivered just thinking about it. Library fees could be expensive.
The trio came to an agreement and left. Arabella hopped into her Jeep and continued on her original mission. Today she was going to see the president. The president. She’d been on her way when she’d spotted The Troubled Trio at the basketball courts. Now that she was focused again on her task, she gnawed on her bottom lip.
The new president of the vampire and Were council, Zeke Hunter, was also Ara’s alpha. She and all others were under his protection while she lived on his lands. She’d talked with alpha Zeke on a few occasions, enough to agree with the rumors of his sanity. The Were was not all there in the head.
How he still managed to become elected and beat Dominic Blackmoore in the race only proved how smart he was. At least some of the time anyway, when he had his senses about him. Zeke swayed many voters with his promises of change and new mating laws that would open between vampires and Weres—something previously unheard of—and pairings were now allowed between same-sex beings. He’d made good on his promises so far.
Zeke did not keep a normal office, such was part of his oddness. Instead, he preferred to keep to a tent which he and his closest confidants moved regularly. It kept Zeke as one the hardest to track Were’s in the world, and that was on top of the alpha’s natural power to keep untraceable.
Arabella found the tent in the clearing as her orders had said. A group of guards hung around the tent. Two more Were’s were shapeshifted into their natural Were form. Their bodies were muscular but covered in a heavy tuft of dark hair. Their faces had been replaced with snouts, teeth with fangs, hands with heavy paws. They prowled around the tent, sniffing the wind, always searching to catch alarming scents.
These Weres could shapeshift. Some Weres, powerf
ul ones like Zeke, were even multi-transformational. Meaning they were able to transform into a variety of powerful predators. That was rare though. Ara’s smile was as bitter as the sour taste on her tongue.
What I would give to be a real Were.
The guards didn’t stop her or ask for her name as she passed through the flap of the tent. Inside the tent it was like a fully functioning business. Along the walls were desks, tables filling the middle of the room. There were open laptops with programs running, TV monitors with the captions on, and paper everywhere. However, the alpha was nowhere to be seen.
Arabella peeked around the tent to ensure she was alone, then poked her head out of the tent flap. The guard nearest her turned around. “What is it?” he asked. Zeke’s guards were infamous for being the best fighters. And by great fighters she meant excellent killers. That’s what they’d been trained to excel at, among other secret talents of which Arabella couldn’t possibly begin to fathom. She was not a fighter. She was a tracker.
Arabella wasn’t sure how to say it. “Um…there’s no one here.”
“Go inside and call line sixteen on the phone at the desk. Not the wireless phone on the wall. Make sure you only use the one on the desk and dial line sixteen,” he said.
So far this wasn’t too strange. Once she heard a story of a man who had to perform a dance, sing a song, then run five miles before Zeke would see him.
“And then what happens?” she asked
The guard blinked. “What do you mean?”
“I guess I’m wondering who I’m calling and why,” she said slowly.
“He’s underground and doesn’t know you’re here. Call line sixteen from the black phone on the desk.” The guard spun back around. End of conversation.
“Okie dokie then.”
Arabella found the phone and punched the button for the correct extension. The phone rang, then rang some more. “Hm…” The line reached the minute marker of ringing when Arabella heard it—the sound of something mechanical engaging. The sound came from the middle of the floor beneath one of the tables located in the center of the room. It sounded like an elevator lift.
