“I didn’t know,” she said, struggling to change. It was difficult to revert to her human body.
Hargittai touched her chin. “Don’t try so hard. Your grandmother was the same, in the beginning.”
Keeli stared, and he smiled at her discomfort. “The new generation reveals itself when most needed. And now, a war leader for violent times.”
“I’m no leader.”
“Before the eyes of your clan, you fought an Alpha into submission. You may not have claimed his power, but it is yours, nonetheless.”
Hargittai released her and looked at Jas. “I think you have met your match, Jas Mack. A stronger wolf cannot be suffered to live if you are to be the Grand Sire Alpha.”
Keeli saw Emily’s eyes fill with confusion, watched as those slender human hands clutched at Jas’s waist.
“Wait,” said Keeli.
But Jas was already nodding, his gaze hard. “The clans won’t tolerate a Grand Alpha who divides her loyalties, whose breath smells like fang. They won’t accept someone who takes favors for her freedom. So yes, I accept the challenge.”
Every word Jas spoke cut like a dagger to the heart. His voice was cold, emotionless, but she knew him well enough to understand that the quiet man, the calm man, was also an enraged, bitterly disappointed man. Without even meaning to, Keeli had struck a blow to Jas’s dreams of being Alpha.
And yet, she could not bring herself to feel sorry for that. Keeli knew what it would mean to her grandmother if Jas made his bid for Alpha. The result would be the old woman’s death. Granny May was strong, but to fight someone with Jas’s strength and youth? Suicide.
Which did not mean she wanted to be the next Grand Dame. Absolutely not. But if it kept her grandmother safe, if she could stand between the old woman and Jas … she would do it.
Emily watched Keeli, horrified. She touched her face, stroking fingers along the remains of her cheek, a tactile memory of her attack. Jas pulled her close.
I’m sorry. I’m so sorry that you’re scared. Sorry if you hate me for being with a vampire.
Hargittai placed his hand on Keeli’s shoulder. “The smell of one’s breath should be less important than the qualities of good leadership, like courage and sacrifice. I’m sure your clan agrees. After all,” and here he raised his voice, his gaze sweeping across the gathered wolves, “would you prefer a wolf who hides her true nature, who prefers politics to the protection of her clan, or one who lays her life on the line to help another, when you—all of you—are so unwilling to do the same?”
He shook his head, clearly dissatisfied with the answering silence, the expressions of uncertainty. “I’ll be late to council,” he told Keeli. “Perhaps you should come with me?”
Keeli shook her head. That would be too much. She had simply won a fight, not earned any rights. Nor was she ready to face her grandmother with this news. Hargittai seemed to understand. The solemn kindness in his eyes made her heart feel strange.
“Take care,” he whispered. “Watch your back.”
As if she could do anything else. She nodded her thanks, and turned to look again at Jas and Emily. There were things she had to say to them.
But they were already gone. Keeli glimpsed Emily’s pink hat; she began to follow, but hands caught her wrists. It was Richard, his face nearly healed. “It’s Suze,” he said. “She’s still hurt.”
Most of the Maddox wolves had already dispersed, hurrying away as if they were afraid of being targeted for another demonstration of Keeli’s wrath. A few others milled about, helpless expressions on their faces, as though they still could not believe what had just transpired, and were too baffled to do anything but stare and whisper. The rest, just a handful, crouched around Suze’s prone body. Keeli rushed over to the girl. Sucked in her breath when she saw what had been done to her.
“We have to reset her nose before it heals that way,” Keeli said, angry. She swallowed it down; easier, this time. Having someone in front of her who desperately needed help was good motivation for control.
“We were walking back to our room when they passed us,” Richard said, even as Keeli and her fellow clan mates gently forced Suze to roll on her back. Her face was a mess; a large rip in her T-shirt revealed part of her bra. The Leroux wolves had been having a little too much fun, it seemed. “They smelled fang on her, from this morning’s fight. It didn’t matter to them the why or how, or that it wasn’t sex.”
“They were looking for a fight,” Keeli muttered.
“You gave them one,” muttered the wolf nearest her. Keeli raised her eyebrow and was given a quick sharp grin in response.
“Suze.” Richard murmured, grabbing the girl’s hand. “Come on.”
“Are they gone?” she asked faintly. Her eyes cracked open.
“It’s a good thing you’re a slow healer,” Keeli told her. “I have to push your nose back into a better shape. You understand, Suze? It’s going to hurt, but if I don’t do it now, it’ll heal wrong.”
“S’kay,” the girl whispered, and closed her eyes.
It was not okay. In fact, resetting Suze’s nose was one of the most harrowing experiences of Keeli’s life. When she was finally done, and Suze had finally stopped screaming, Keeli slumped backward and lay flat on the ground, fighting for breath. She closed her eyes. Heard whispers, faint mutters, the shuffle of many feet. Richard, crooning to Suze. She smelled blood and licked her lips. Tasted Leroux.
Something brushed her cheek. It felt like hair. She opened her eyes and found Michael crouched above her. The tip of a braid tickled her skin.
“You are so much trouble,” he said.
She closed her eyes again and smiled.
By the time Suze was ready to be moved, only the four of them remained in the corridor. The rest of the wolves were dispersed with a couple of careful words and some hard looks from Keeli. Yes, how lovely to act helpful when the fight was over. But to not stop the abuse while it was happening? Inexcusable. Keeli no longer cared if Leroux was an Alpha. After seeing what he and his friends had done to Suze, she was mad enough to go hunt him down a second time. The rest of her clan should have felt the same.
Times like this show you who your friends are. Throw a little vampire into the mix, and you’ll get more than just a show.
Richard carried Suze back to the room they shared. Michael and Keeli followed.
The room Richard and Suze stayed in was surprisingly near the Alpha core. It had once belonged to Keeli’s cousin, an older girl who was now more than fifteen years dead. Keeli couldn’t remember her name anymore. The room was bare, perfectly cleaned out. All that was left were bare concrete walls, narrow beds, and a small bathroom. Nothing of comfort and home. Just four gray walls and some potential.
And a bottle of vampire sunscreen.
“Where did you get this?” Keeli asked, as Richard carefully deposited Suze on the bed.
“Um,” he said.
“I picked the fang’s pocket this morning,” Suze said wearily. “Old habits. Sorry.”
Keeli shook her head, glancing at Michael. “How long have you two been here?”
“Only three days,” he said, looking warily at Michael. The vampire leaned against the wall, studying the teens with a thoughtful expression on his pale face. Suze tried to sit up. Richard grabbed her shoulders and gently pressed her back to the bed. Keeli tried not to shudder every time they touched.
“I need some water,” Suze whispered. Richard jumped to his feet and padded into the bathroom. Suze watched him go, and then turned her gaze on Keeli.
“Thanks,” she said. “That fucker was going to kill me.”
Keeli shrugged. She wanted to say, “Maybe you would have done the same for me,” but she knew what the answer to that would be, and just didn’t feel like hearing it.
Richard emerged from the bathroom with a glass of water.
“You’re not siblings,” Michael suddenly said. Richard stopped so fast, water sloshed over the rim of the glass. Both he and Suze s
tared at him with a mixture of horror and shock on their faces. Keeli turned to Michael and raised her eyebrows in silent question.
“I had eight older brothers and sisters,” he said. “I can tell these things.”
Which was a fascinating revelation, but there were two young werewolves watching them. Keeli tore her gaze away from Michael’s face.
“I want the truth,” she said flatly. “And it better be good, because the memory of you two, together, gives me nightmares.”
For the first time, Suze and Richard looked at Keeli—really looked—and it was as though they saw past the scent of vampire and the Maddox name, down to the woman beneath the pink hair and striped stockings. Keeli looked right back, and wondered if she might learn to like these bold teens who stared at her so openly, without fear.
Suze said, “We act like we got the same parents because it’s easier that way. We don’t want anyone to separate us. That’s what people do, when people think you’re kids and not blood. But hell, we weren’t sure it would work. We don’t look anything alike.”
Keeli begged to differ. “You’re not siblings?”
“Not unless someone important is asking,” Suze said. “You’re dirty for thinking that way.”
“Yeah, I’m dirty in the best possible way. You two are idiots, acting like you’re siblings and then doing each other in public. That’s … that’s so gross! What the hell were you thinking?”
“We love each other,” Richard said, crouching protectively at Suze’s beside.
“That explains everything,” Michael said.
Keeli frowned. “You sure you’re not siblings? I think I want blood tests.”
“Bitch.”
“That’s Miss Bitch to you. And while you’re here, no more pretending to be kin. Now that is dirty.”
“We did it to—”
“I know why, but I promise that no one is going to separate the two of you just because you’re not blood-related. You’re safe, understand? Jeez, I mean it. You’re both safe.”
Richard and Suze looked at each other. Some tension left their shoulders.
“It’s been a long time,” said the teen, gazing around the room like it was something from the Ritz, instead of just old concrete.
Michael squatted. “How long were you on the street?”
“Years,” said Suze, looking at the ceiling. “We were too afraid to approach any clans for help. Had some bad experiences.”
“We were going to steal a car,” added Richard. “Sell it, get enough cash for over the border. Take us to the new underground.”
Mexico. An easy place to get lost in if you were a werewolf. The new underground for those who wanted to live in relative freedom, where humans were so poor they didn’t care if you wore fur or fang, just as long as you didn’t bite the hand paying the check, or take the blood or flesh of family. Farther south into Brazil, life got better—or so rumor said. Werewolves in places like Rio de Janeiro lived above ground, no room in the sewers to carve out new clan homes. Human children occupied those places.
“What’s the name of your old clan?” Keeli asked.
“We come from different clans. They can go fuck themselves.” Suze’s mouth twisted. “We wouldn’t have come here, but there was some bad shit on the streets. Real bad. Killing-kind bad. We saw it ourselves, and were afraid it would get us.”
“What did you see?”
“Blood,” Richard whispered. “Lots of it. On a man. On his face and body. Like he rolled in it. You don’t get that wet unless you’ve been in it real hard.”
“Was this a human bad or vampire bad?” Keeli asked. “Werewolf?”
Richard and Suze looked at each other.
“Was it something else? A mech, maybe?”
Richard shook his head. “No. But we’ve seen those, too. We know what those smell like. They look human, but smell … wrong. No. This was different. A little bit of … everything.”
“He saw us.” Suze’s voice was low; Keeli had to lean close to hear. “I looked right into his eyes. He had a funny voice.”
“He sang a song,” Richard said.
“What else did he do?” Michael looked troubled.
“He told us to run,” Suze whispered. “We did.”
“When did this happen?”
“A week ago. We started knocking on doors right away. Maddox was the only clan to take us in.”
“My grandmother must have been the one who interviewed you. Did you tell her this?”
They nodded, and all the bravado and punk-wit was gone. Richard and Suze looked like two scared children. Richard said, “She told us it was a demon.”
“Maybe,” Michael said, though Keeli heard the doubt in his voice. She wondered why the Grand Dame had not mentioned it to them. A man covered in blood when there was a serial killer on the loose seemed like a significant piece of information to give to the two people who were supposed to be investigating the crime.
They left the teens to recuperate—and from the way Richard looked at Suze as they closed the door, have some really good sex. The corridor outside was empty, quiet except for the distant banging of pipes and sledgehammers. The clan was growing so fast that the Grand Dame had authorized funds for renovations. More homes, more rooms to spread out. The werewolves who would benefit from the expansion were still children, barely teenagers, but Keeli’s grandmother liked to think long-term.
Michael wrapped Keeli in a tight embrace. Warmth flooded her body, lingering even when he released her.
“Are you all right?” he asked.
“How did you know?”
He touched her jaw, feather soft. “I looked at your face.”
She closed her eyes, pressing her forehead against his chest. “I beat the crap out of an Alpha and two of his men. I’ve been declared Jas’s challenger in any future fight for leadership. And I still haven’t gotten all that DNA I promised you. I want to run away, Michael.”
She heard the smile in his voice when he said, “Where would you go?”
“Where were you born?”
He stilled. “Central Asia. The high steppes, just below what is now Russia.”
“Is it beautiful?”
“Very.”
“How long since you’ve been back?”
Michael touched Keeli’s cheeks, lifting her chin so he could gaze into her eyes. She sensed his pain, discomfort, and was instantly sorry she had asked.
He said, “It’s been a long time, Keeli. For good reason. But one day, maybe, it will be time to go back. When I do, we’ll go together.”
Her breath caught. “You mean that.”
“I would not say it if I didn’t.”
They heard footsteps in the hall. Michael began to pull away, but Keeli grabbed his hand, entwining their fingers.
“Keeli,” he said.
“Let them look,” she said. “I don’t care.”
She might have punched him for the breathless way he stared at her; agony and pain and troubled darkness swirled through his eyes, only to be mixed with awe. Sweet—his lips were sweeter, and she pressed upward into his gentle kiss, wanting the world to see how much she cared about the man, how much she did not care about the what or the how, but instead the simple lovely who, the who touching her shoulder, drawing her into a cool strong embrace.
“Cold showers do not work for me,” he murmured in her ear, and she laughed out loud, turning as she did to see who had passed them in the hall. Two wolves, their backs turned, spines ramrod straight. Fine, then. Fine.
“They don’t work for me, either,” she told him, her body shifting into something warmer and more delicious than the wolf. She felt wet, ready.
They did not run back to her room, though it was only a corridor and a twist away. They walked at a normal pace, Keeli’s hand locked in Michael’s, and it was a game, a test, to see who had the most self-control. She felt tension running through his arm; she brushed her breast against his bicep and savored his shudder. Fought down her own, as well.
But the moment Keeli opened her door and they stepped into her room, control became a myth, an absolute mystery. Michael slammed shut the door, crashing back against it hard. He grabbed Keeli tight against his chest as she grappled with his pants. Her limbs banged up against multiple solid objects. She peeled back his coat and saw steel, wood.
“Wow,” she said, but then his hands were on her and she forgot his weapons.
“Kiss me,” he said, and she did, swallowing his gasp as she ripped open his top button and plunged her hand down, down, wrapping fingers around his hard hot length, stroking quick with her thumb. She pulled away from his kiss, sliding down his body, dragging her nails across his chest. She licked the front of his pants, nuzzling, and then in one quick movement yanked them down to his ankles. Michael did not have time to react; Keeli ran her tongue up his entire length, swirling her tongue around the seeping tip. She sucked gently. Michael buried his hands in her hair, jerking.
“No,” he gasped, sinking to the ground, grabbing Keeli’s T-shirt and pulling it over her head. He unsnapped her bra. “You’re too quick for me.”
“I like it fast,” she said.
“Not that fast.” He smiled, and she laughed as he took her breast into his mouth. Laughed, and then moaned, arching her back when his teeth—sharp, good—tugged. His hands moved under her skirt; she felt her stockings rip, and then his fingers were inside her, moving and pressing and—
She cried out, bucking against his hand as he shifted rhythm, faster, harder, his teeth tugging, tongue licking, pulling, while her hands reached down to his hair, his face—
She came and it was good, so good, but even before the last shudder was done she felt him, the hard hot length of him, and he kissed her on the mouth, his tongue ducking light against her own, and he slid in and in and in, pushing deeper than anyone had ever gone, and she was still coming down from the last high, the last big wave, and the feel of him so large and thick, the first thrust, made her senseless all over again so by the second thrust she was a goner, shaking, her body clenching tight—so tight—and he called out her name and pounded her hard, hard, hard, her head banging into a pile of books that toppled down on top of her and she did not care—barely noticed that Moby-Dick was lying open on her face, though she had enough sense to think how ironic before she was hit for a third time—the charm—because Michael came with her, and …
A Taste of Crimson Page 17
