by K.N. Lee
She giggled.
“Yeah, laugh it up. I only lasted six days. I couldn’t handle it.”
Her laughter grew.
“I mean, come on. I have the nose of a wolf. The stench was enough to kill me.”
“Then why did you accept it in the first place?”
“I was hungry and desperate,” he said simply.
“Couldn’t you have…”
“Gone into the forest and hunted for my meals? I was in Chicago at the time. Not exactly a place for forests.”
“I guess not.”
“The worst was right after. I was ready to die. I thought I was going to. Everyone did. Werewolves… We can’t go to hospitals. We can’t have them run tests on us. Our bodies can heal so much that we either die of old age—”
She lifted her eyebrows.
“Around one hundred and fifty.”
Zelda did a double take. “One hundred and…”
“Yeah. We keep quiet about that, too. So, we either die of old age or because of fighting.” He grinned wolfishly. “We’re part wolves. We like to fight and posture and all of that.”
“Are animal wolves cocky and arrogant, too?” she teased.
“The ones I’ve met are.” His smile grew.
She laughed. Were they becoming friends? Maybe. The realization stuck with her. For the most part, she only had a few friends, opting for quality over quantity. Not everyone understood her desire to do well with her studies, with her drive to make a name for herself. She didn’t want to settle for second best.
Magnus, though, he had been cast out by his pack, left to die all alone. He knew all about being second best, or, more like, being the worst.
“The whole mating bond thing, that’s not real, is it?” she asked.
“Mating bond thing.” He furrowed his brow, a picturesque thinker. “What do you mean?”
“In romances. Soul mates. Insta-love. That’s not real, right?” Why was she bringing this up?
“Of course not. Love takes time to form and develop. At least, I assume it does. I’ve never been in love.”
“Neither have I,” she murmured. “But there is something I love about you.”
What in the world was she saying?
“Oh, yeah?” He leaned forward, elbow on the table, chin in his hand. “What’s that? My rugged good looks? My charm? My—”
“I should’ve said there’s something I would love to have of yours. Your blood. Can I… I know this is a lot to ask, but… You see, my research is about crossbreeding and endosymbiosis, and I had been focusing on plants and animals, but animals to humans… I get it if you say no, and maybe I shouldn’t have even asked, but…” She held her breath to stop her rambling.
He stared at her, and her hope dashed. Of course he would say no. It was too big of a favor to ask.
Magnus nodded slowly. “It’s the least I can do considering I dragged you into this. I mean, if the other werewolves knew I told you about us…” He glanced away.
“Why did you tell me?”
“Maybe because I was tired of being alone, tired of hiding,” he said quietly.
For several minutes, they were quiet, content to be in each other’s presence without the need to fill the silence with needless words. Then her phone beeped, and she checked it to find an alert about the werewolf murders. Her stomach twisted, and the soup sank like a rock in her stomach.
“Is something wrong?” Magnus asked.
“No,” she said, brushing aside his concern. “I’m tired. Good night.”
Abrupt, maybe, but she hurried out of the kitchen and retired to her bedroom. It was better this way, to make a clean break now before she became too attached. She had only dated one guy during high school, and she was too involved with her classes and research to worry about guys since she’d started college. Romance with anyone wasn’t smart, and one with a werewolf, especially one she’d witness kill twice, was just plain stupid.
Wasn’t it?
Chapter 9
Magnus hated the way Zelda rushed out of the kitchen, but he made no move to stop her. She had been warming up to him, and he enjoyed flirting with her, but he could see it in her eyes. She was too guarded. At times, she’d let down her defenses, but he understood her better than she probably thought he did. She didn’t want to be with him because he was a werewolf. And because she wasn’t about romance. And because of the killing.
He knew and understood and accepted that killing was a part of his life. He’d hadn’t been joking when he said that their way of life featured fighting. It could be downright brutal at times. That wasn’t the kind of life he wanted for Zelda. If he could go back, he would change things so she had never become involved in the first place. She didn’t deserve to have her life so brutally interrupted.
The blood she asked for was the least he could provide. He found a cup, transformed only his teeth to fangs, bit down on his wrist, and allowed the blood to fill the cup to the brim. Then he stripped and transformed into a wolf.
To his shock, she reentered the kitchen. She backed up, eyes wide with fright.
Like a dog, he trotted over to her and nuzzled her legs. Zelda patted his head and moved to walk around him. He growled, and she pet him again. Then she again tried to move to the side.
He growled.
She frowned and side-eyed him. “What do you…” Zelda glanced at the table and noticed the cup. “Thank you for the… You want me to have some fur, too? Is that it?”
Magnus nodded.
She found scissors and cut some fur. Then he turned away from her, regained his human form, and began to dress.
Her fingers touched his shoulder.
“How is it?”
“Not completely healed yet. Can I… Can I take a sample of the wound, too? Since it’s open?”
“Go for it.”
Her hands were soft, gentle, and he closed his eyes. All too soon, she was done.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
“Missed me that much?” he joked, facing her as he put on his shirt. “Want me to tuck you in?”
“You’re not allowed in my bedroom,” she said sharply. “I came here because I heard your claws on the tile. Don’t scratch it, okay?”
“I’m sorry.” He stared at the floor. The black and white diamond looked all right to him.
“I’m sorry, too. I’m just… Stress.”
“Understandable.”
She smiled wanly. “Good night. This time, I really am going to sleep.”
“Not that you need beauty rest.”
Shaking her head, she left the room.
Magnus’s shoulders slumped. He hated that he’d barged his way into her life.
What was the best present he could give her beside the blood and fur samples?
To leave her life entirely.
So he waited outside of her door until her bed stopped creaking and her breathing grew even. She’d left the door cracked open, and he pushed it open just enough to be able see her. So peaceful, so serene. Zelda looked like an angel. Juliet was the perfect nickname for her.
A part of him wanted to cross over to her, to kiss her forehead or to even crawl into bed beside her, to hold her. It wouldn’t be fair to worm his way deeper into her life or possibly into her heart.
But he wanted to.
Before he could do anything he would regret, he stole out of the cabin like a thief in the night.
After thoroughly de-scenting her truck and rigging a plastic bag to cover her busted window, Magnus left Zelda behind, hopefully for good.
It took him until the day almost murdered the night before he located another Nightstar Hunters. Old Gregory Hughes was one of the werewolves Magnus had missed the most this past year. The man could tell a story after a few brews.
Which meant it was no surprise when Magnus spotted him leaving a bar. The werewolf never bothered with a coat, not even on his yearly treks to Alaska. He loved the fish up there, tasted like none other, he would claim.
The air was chilly enough for Magnus, though, and he wished for a coat as he crossed the street. The moment the wind shifted, Hughes lifted his head, turned, and spotted Magnus. The lines around his eyes deepened as he squinted, and then creased even more in recognition. “Magnus? Is it really you?”
He hurried over. “Yes. I need to speak to Leviticus.”
Hughes’s lips settled into what looked like a perpetual frown. Strange. The Hughes Magnus knew was always smiling and laughing his way through another outlandish tale.
“Leviticus is gonna be fit to be tied.” Hughes sighed and rubbed his forehead. “Well, come on then.”
Still driving his ready-to-fall-apart-if-it-hit-another-pothole car—which, riven Pennsylvania’s road meant the car could collapse at any second, Hughes drove out of the city toward the northeast. In a decent but deserted apartment complex parking lot, Hughes stalled.
“Room 246,” he said. His voice sounded old, worn. Hughes had to be nearly one hundred and twenty, but he only looked to be in his late sixties.
“You’re not coming in?” Magnus asked. For some reason, he felt like he needed an ally. Like he was about to walk into the lion’s den.
“You know me. I like to roam more than most werewolves. But this constant moving for almost a year now…” Hughes shook his head. “Leviticus has been bitter and nasty even since you… since we thought you died.”
“Never realized he cared so much about me,” Magnus joked. “All right then. Have a good night.”
He got out of the car.
“Watch your back,” Hughes called, and the old werewolf drove off.
If Magnus felt nervous before, he felt even more unnerved when he approached the apartment complex. The stench of werewolves wasn’t to be had, which led him to wonder if a great deal of his old pack were here and in hiding. Maybe they already knew or suspected that the Blood Warriors were after them.
It’s all my fault they in danger, but what was I supposed to do? Let myself be killed? That’s not the wolf way!
Facing up to his actions, admitting he had failed them… He had to be strong and true and accept whatever may come.
Squaring his shoulders, Magnus climbed the stairs to the second floor and pounded his fist against the door marked 246.
It opened immediately. Rosemarie stood there.
She looked lovely, with her long blond tresses now wavy, her silver-green eyes flashing. At one time, he would’ve been thrilled to have the chance to talk and flirt with her, but right now, he just said, “I need to talk to Leviticus.”
“What are—”
He pushed up the door and walked in. Several other werewolves were in the room. Clusters of Jerusalem sage were on shelves and tables, enough to mask their scent and filling the space with the scent of soap.
Leviticus was sitting on the couch. It appeared Magnus had interrupted a meeting of some kind.
The alpha stared at Magnus, unblinking. “So you are alive after all.”
“For better or worse. I need to talk to you.”
“So talk.” Leviticus crossed his arms and scowled. He looked even more like a meathead than Magnus remembered. His biceps were as big as his head. No one would think about crossing him. There was a reason why he remained alpha—no one wanted to tangle with him. No one had a death wish. Leviticus would crush anyone who dared to oppose him.
But the Blood Warriors were just like him, and their alpha was even worse. Leviticus was smart to try to keep his head down, but the gig was up.
“Alone.”
“Anything you can say can be said in front of them all.”
Magnus held his tongue. There was almost mythical bond that forced werewolves to listen to their alpha, but it had died away when Magnus had been left for dead. He’d wondered—feared—that being in close proximity to Leviticus would reforge the bond, but that wasn’t the case, thankfully.
Leviticus’s eyes narrowed.
He knows I don’t have to answer to him.
With a growl, Leviticus jerked his thumb to the door. At once, the seven werewolves all left. Rosemarie smiled at him, but Magnus ignored her, crossing over to the nearest Jerusalem sage plant. He rubbed the hairy stem before fingering the fuzzy gray-green leaves.
“Out with it,” Leviticus said. “I don’t have time for ghosts.”
“Do you know the Blood Warriors are on the prowl?”
“Yes,” Leviticus spat out. “If that’s all you have to say—”
“They’ve found you.”
The alpha sucked in a breath. “How do you know?”
“I crossed paths with two.”
“How are you still alive?”
“How is that you don’t care that I am? I was one of yours. You’re not happy to see me alive. Why not?”
“It’s a shock, that’s all.” Leviticus stood and crossed the room to the window. He shoved the curtain aside. Outside, the stars twinkled, casting a light glow to the nearby buildings. Red and orange leaves decorated the sole tree in the courtyard, a cluster of brown leaves already fallen at its roots. The cars in the parking lot were decent models, reflecting that those living within the walls were decent hard workers if not upper middle class. Magnus hadn’t been in an apartment complex this nice ever before.
“Not a good shock, I take it.” Magnus flared his nostrils. He had expected this kind of reaction, but it stung anyhow. His alpha essentially wished him dead. Granted, that the Blood Warriors had chased them across the country because of what Magnus had done meant he could not blame the Nightstar Hunters one bit for their hatred of him.
“Of course not,” Leviticus hissed, whirling away from the window to face him, his fingers curling into fists.
“I assume an apology won’t help any…”
Leviticus smirked, his fists unfurling.
“…and you won’t get one.”
Now the alpha’s lips curled back into a nasty snarl. “How dare you—”
“If someone attacked you, would you not fight back?” Magnus asked. “If someone attacked Laci, wouldn’t you expect your sister to fight back? If someone attacked—”
“I—”
“You have been moving across the country to get away from the Blood Warriors because of me, and for that, I am sorry, but I will not apologize for defending myself and for killing that werewolf.”
Leviticus growled deep in his throat. Then he sniffed. “You’re wounded.”
Again hung in the air.
“Yes. The Blood Warriors I came across didn’t take to kindly to seeing me.”
“Did they recognize you?”
“I don’t know, but they won’t be bothering me or anyone else for that matter.”
“You’ve killed a decent amount of werewolves.”
“More than some alphas,” Magnus said coolly.
Leviticus bristled; even the hair on the top of his head stood on end. He breathed deeply a few times and visibly relaxed.
Magnus smirked. Leviticus was known for being prone to violence. For him to use breathing techniques to calm down was laughable. Yoga? Meditation? Wolves were about action, not relaxation.
“Are you threatening me?” Leviticus demanded.
“I came here to warn you. Why would I turn around and then threaten you?”
“I feared they were closing in.” Leviticus began to pace around the glass-topped coffee table. “We’ve been doing our best to find a new place to relocate every since you pulled your stunt.”
Stunt? What a term. Magnus grimaced.
A knock on the door interrupted them. Leviticus crossed over and opened it.
Laci strolled in and halted when her gaze fell on Magnus. The alpha’s sister’s jaw dropped, and her eyes narrowed. Her chest heaved. Her body was sleek and muscular yet feminine, wrapped by a tight black-and-white dress.
“What is he doing alive?” she asked.
“I never—”
“He’s the reason why we had to leave our home! Why we have been on the run for a year! Why w
e have been living in fear! The moment he crossed the threshold, you should have torn out his throat!” Laci whirled on her brother.
“I am alpha, not you,” Leviticus said calmly. “He came to tell us that the Blood Warriors have discovered our location. Given that he was able to also find us tells us we haven’t been doing a good enough job covering our tracks. We need to flee. Winter will be here soon. Maybe Florida—”
“Florida. Mexico. Texas. Alaska. Don’t you see? Wherever we go, they will follow. They will hunt us down. And it’s all because of him.”
“Why don’t you—” Magnus started to say.
“He needs to be dealt with for the grief he has caused us!” Laci screamed.
Her voice echoed in the room and maybe down the hall, too, because the werewolves Leviticus had dismissed reentered the room. They formed a semi-circle around him.
“He is the reason why we have not been able to truly live,” Laci said.
The other werewolves nodded, and a few shifted their teeth to fangs.
Magnus swallowed hard. “I hadn’t realized that—”
“Our lives have been miserable,” another werewolf said.
“He should’ve died then.”
“He should die now.”
Leviticus held up a hand. The look he Magnus filled his heart with dread.
He had come here with good intentions, but his ego had caused him to give an alpha known for his short temper a lot of lip. He definitely hadn’t done himself any favors now.
At one point, Magnus had wanted death. He had been in so much pain he’d wanted it to end. Right now, though, he acknowledged he didn’t want to die. Zelda had made an impression on him. He couldn’t say that he loved her, but one day, he might grow to, if given the chance. And if she proved to not be the girl for him, there would be someone else. He had lived the life of a loner for a year. It wasn’t good enough for him. He wanted a pack.
Too bad his old pack wanted him dead. He never should’ve come here.
Chapter 10
Waking up to find Magnus gone strangely made Zelda’s stomach churn. She knew it was for the best, and a part of her was grateful that there hadn’t been a long, drawn out good bye, but she’d be lying if she said that she wasn’t worried about him.
