by H. D. Gordon
Soon enough, I was being shoved up the stairs, and I turned my head and snapped my teeth at the Hound who kept feeling the need to put his hands on me. This earned laughs from the Hounds and taunts from the crowd.
But my eyes were already elsewhere as I crossed the wooden stage, the weight of all those gathered gazes falling upon me. On a balcony overlooking the square, shaded from the brilliant summer sun by a striped, cloth umbrella, and sipping amber liquid from a tumbler, sat my elusive Pack Master himself.
Reagan Ramsey.
I had not seen him since the day he’d purchased me from Benedict, but he looked the same now as he had then. Dressed in fine slacks and a short-sleeved collared shirt, with sunglasses that likely cost more than I had perched on his straight nose, the Wolf appeared bored and unimpressed. Beside him were the other Pack Masters from the North, South, East, and Midlands. Bo Benedict stood out from the others with his ever-present wide-brimmed hat.
As the announcer read my name and stats, someone in the crowd shouted, “I’d rather watch this bitch fuck than fight!”
And this ignited a cacophony of howls, hoots, snarls and hollered agreements. My eyes narrowed to slits, scanning the crowd for the bastard who had spoken. An overweight, well-dressed Wolf who looked soft and pudgy like a man-child grinned back at me, assured of his safety with all these Hounds around.
I knew I was giving them what they wanted, but I bared my teeth and snarled at the gathered, thinking that perhaps there was a reason for the irons around my wrists and ankles, after all. If I were not in chains right now, I would certainly be able to do some damage before the Hounds could put me down.
When the name of my opponent was called, my eyes moved along with the rest of the audience to settle on a female who was at least six inches taller than me, though she was no where near the size the Bear had been. Black, tribal-like tattoos crawled over every part of her, and she wore clothing that marked her as belonging to the Northern Pack. Her hair was completely shaved off on one side, while the other had been allowed to grow long, and it hung in thick, golden locks over her shoulder.
“Rook the Bear-killer,” said the announcer, his voice ringing extra loud beside me, “meet your opponent, Serilda the Sour!”
Bookies circulated through the crowd, taking the bets of people who thrust their money in the air, gazes gleaming with anticipation. The new nickname, Rook the Bear-killer, had taken me by surprise, though I supposed it shouldn’t have. And I could see that the betters were impressed, though I couldn’t give two shits less at the moment one way or the other.
From that comfortable, lavish balcony above us all, Reagan Ramsey and the visiting Pack Masters watched. Two females dressed in barely-there clothing had emerged from the double doors behind Ramsey. One now perched on his lap, while the other had settled on the thick arm of his chair. Even from the distance, I could see that he was looking at me, surely curious as to whether I’d been a wise investment or not.
The female perched on his lap slid down below the rail of the balcony, her head disappearing into his lap while his tipped back slightly and his lips parted. My anger flared as this brought up memories of Goldie, of the times Bo Benedict had made her do such things despite all the people present. Before I could do something even stupider than my previous inclinations, I jerked my gaze away.
And it settled on a pair of blood-red eyes that I recognized in an instant.
Adriel.
The Mixbreed who owned my best friend stood among the crowd in a suit of all black, his hands tucked casually in his pockets. He was just as lovely and just as terrifying as I remembered him, and had I not been shackled, I might have tried to reach him right then and there.
I needed to know what had become of Goldie… If she was still… If she was okay.
I didn’t care how vicious they said his kind was; I would grip the bastard by the ball sac and shake the information out of him if I had to. Doing my best to hide my anticipation, I obeyed instantly when the announcer shooed both my opponent and me off the stage to make way for the next two Dogs. From there, I was herded back into a barred wagon, my eyes pinning the Mixbreed the entire time.
Adriel stared back at me indifferently, a touch of infuriating amusement playing around his lips. I gripped the bars caging me into the back of the wagon when he had the nerve to wink at me. This made him chuckle, his hands still tucked casually into the pockets of his black pants, his ebony hair falling forward a bit on his forehead.
I didn’t drop his stare until the wagon rolled around the corner and out of sight, though it was easily the most difficult stare-down to maintain that I’d ever encountered—which was saying something. Wolves are dominance-ruled creatures by nature, and to avert one’s gaze first is a certain submission. In fact, if I was being honest, had the wagon not turned the corner, I likely would’ve broken eye contact a few moments later, unable to withstand the weight of that scarlet gaze.
Scowling, I sat the rest of the ride in silence. When we were dropped back off near the area designated for the Dogs, I went to The Cascades first to wash off the ridiculous body paint that Ramsey had made me parade around in. The leap over the edge of the cliff and into the crystalline blue waters below no longer made me pause. Between The Cascades where we bathed and The Cliffs where we trained, my fear of heights had been slowly steeped out of me.
By the time I climbed out of the water and retrieved some modest clothing from the cave, the spectacle at the center of the city had mostly concluded. Dogs had been observed and bets had been placed. The people of Marisol and the visitors from various places had dispersed throughout the city. Some were having lunch in the street-side cafes, or buying memorabilia from one of the many stores. Others roamed to and fro, the city natives distinguishable from the tourists by their swift steps and the lack of utter wonderment in their eyes.
There was only one set of eyes I was searching for—an unforgettable shade of red. But even as the sun rose to its highest point in the sky, and then began making its inevitable descent, I couldn’t locate the Mixbreed anywhere. As the day inched closer to its close, I found the fire within me dimming. My shoulders slumped a bit in weariness, and I decided that I ought to head back to my cave and get some sleep. My first fight in The Games was only two sunrises away.
As night fell, the partying and chaos in the city only intensified. Every tavern, smoke den, and gambling hall was filled to the brim with customers and hustlers. Not a single star could be seen overhead for all the light pollution floating up from Marisol, and even the constant melody of the restless ocean was drowned out by the hoots and hollers and the festive music playing through the streets.
I was finally able to put some distance between me and most of the revelers as I approached the sanctioned Dogs’ grounds nearby the small woods that housed my cave. Some of the tension left my shoulders as the sounds of the city faded behind me, and I saw I was not the only Dog who had decided to stay away from the ruckus tonight.
By now, I knew most of the other Dogs, and I nodded to a few in passing as I headed toward the cave. I was almost within the shadows cast by the trees when a voice spoke from behind me, loud enough to ensure that I heard the words.
“She’s probably sneaking off to bang the Head Hound again,” said a female voice I couldn’t place.
I stopped in my tracks.
Another female snorted. “Why would Ryker’s sexy ass want to fuck her? He knows he can come see me whenever he needs to… exhaust himself.”
That voice I did recognize.
Peni.
A small voice that sounded painfully similar to Goldie’s pleaded in my head: Just walk away, Rook. Just walk the fuck away. You don’t even give a shit about that Hound.
And, yet, my fists were clenched hard enough for my short nails to pierce the skin of my palms, my body already having decided without consulting me that it was in no mood to just walk away.
I drew a breath as I went to spin on my heels and brawl for the hell of it… b
ut just then, from within the shadows beyond the trees, I saw a flash of unmistakable, glowing red eyes.
32
Whatever bullshit I was about to fight over slipped out of my mind like water through fingers. Peni muttered something or other about me being too afraid to fight her without the advantage of using a sucker punch, but I was already moving away.
Toward the trees, where the red eyes had disappeared. I assured myself that I had indeed seen them as I went crashing through the brush near the point where they’d been. The moonlight could not penetrate the thick canopy of the woods, and soon, I found myself standing amongst shadows layered upon shadows. My eyes adjusted to the gloom… but Adriel was nowhere to be seen.
But I could still pick up his faint scent hanging in the air. I knew for certain it belonged to him because I had never encountered another like it. It was crisp, clean, and masculine, and yet, a little bit sweet as well.
“You’ve been looking for me.”
The statement, spoken so slickly from within the darkness, almost made me jump. In fact, years of suppressing reactions were the only reason I didn’t. Still, I had super strong senses, and I should have detected him before he’d snuck up on me… But he had moved without making a sound, without so much as stirring the air that separated us.
Slowly, I turned to face the direction from which his voice had come. And, sure enough, there stood the Mixbreed male, as motionless as a statue. His skin was smooth porcelain, his face as handsome as a devil’s. One side of his mouth pulled up in a grin that revealed straight white teeth and a single sharp, fanged canine. His eyes were that captivating, glowing ruby, and I felt as night bugs must just before flying straight into the alluring light of a torch fire and burning to ashes from the heat of the flames.
Around us, the woods had fallen silent, as if also under the spell of this unholy creature. Realizing that I was just standing there, staring into his beautiful face, I cleared my throat and said the first thing that came to mind.
“What did you do with Goldie?” I asked, and cringed internally when it came out sounding more like a gasp.
He was silent a moment. “Who?”
Whatever fear was incited by his mere presence was dampened by a healthy dose of anger at this response. “Goldie,” I repeated, struggling to keep my voice down. “The female you bought in Dogshead about three moon cycles ago.”
Adriel’s head tilted, the only movement he’d made since I’d set eyes on him. His stillness was uncannily like that of a serpent poised to strike. In his otherworldly, smooth voice, he said, “You’ll have to be more specific. I’ve bought many females in the past three moon cycles.”
My fist almost threw itself at his lovely face for this, but my survival instincts won out over the impulse. “A female Wolf with ginger hair,” I said through clenched teeth. “Slim and dainty and undeniably beautiful?” When he only stared at me, I threw my hands up. “How do you not remember? You bought her from Bo Benedict before Ramsey’s Hound could buy her. You said you’ve always had a thing for redheads.”
“Did I, now?” He asked, and the smirk he gave me made me think that he knew exactly who I was talking about, and had the whole time.
I’d never met a creature more infuriating in all my life… but I was also no fool. I’d seen what Adriel had done to that Wolf male in the forest near Dogshead, the way he’d murdered him and then drank his blood. The number of tales about his kind, about Mixbreeds, was endless… but not a single one ended well. Murderers, thieves, crooks, and sadists… and these were the polite adjectives others used to describe them.
“Please,” I said. “Just tell me what became of her.”
His tall, muscular body still didn’t shift in the slightest, but those red eyes ran the length of me, making a blush crawl up my neck and my stomach twist itself into knots. “You speak of her as though she was your lover,” he said. “Is that the reason for all your inquiries? Did you find yourself bewitched by the fire-haired workingwoman?”
The question was asked so plainly that I found myself answering honestly. “No,” I said. “I love Goldie, but like a sister, not a lover.” I met and held his scarlet gaze. “And, for me, that’s a bond that goes much deeper. So, please… tell me what’s become of her.”
Adriel slid his hands into the pockets of his black slacks and leaned back on his heels a touch, considering. “And what will I get in return for this information?”
The pleasure of doing a good deed you fucking heartless bastard, I thought. What I said was, “What do you want?”
“Your blood,” he said casually, as if he were commenting on the weather.
“What?”
“I’ll take some of—”
“No, I heard you, but I’m sure you must have misspoken.”
The Mixbreed lifted his wide shoulders in a shrug and turned coolly away from me, pushing some of his black hair off his forehead as he did so.
It took enormous effort not to launch myself at his back. “Wait,” I said, scowling. “Fine, I’ll… I’ll give you some of my gods damned blood, but you have to give me your word you’ll tell me about Goldie.” I thrust my hand out before I could change my mind. “Do we have a deal?”
Adriel’s blood-red eyes glowed bright in the darkness. “We have a deal.”
When he took my hand into his own, a shiver went down my spine. Blood was a powerful totem, and there was any number of ways one could use it, things that could be done with it. The warmth of his skin surprised me; for whatever reason, I’d expected him to be cold to the touch.
With his proximity and the pending fulfillment of my end of the agreement, there was nothing I could do to keep my heart from skipping into a gallop within my chest. When I spoke, my voice came out stronger than I’d been expecting, what with the tightness in my throat.
“Are you going to… bite me?” I asked.
Adriel’s mouth ticked up in one corner, making his beautiful face all the more handsome. “Not unless you want me to,” he said.
Before I could think of how to respond to that, he dropped to his knees before me and gripped my right thigh with a warm, strong hand. I had just formulated a protest when he drew a finger lightly over my skin with his free hand, the touch not actually making contact. Whatever I was going to say died in my throat as a thin line of scarlet followed in his finger’s wake. The hand that had been gripping my thigh released me, and a small vial appeared between his ivory fingers. He collected some of my blood in the little vial and capped it. It disappeared again in the same fashion that it had come. With a wave of his other hand, I watched as the laceration he’d made stitched itself back together, not leaving a trace.
Adriel rose to his feet smoothly, his lean, muscular body uncoiling with ease. His red gaze held mine, and his lips gave a small but wicked twist. “I can still bite you, if you want, Rukiya dearest,” he said, that lulling voice of his like melting butter on fresh bread.
“Tell me,” I said, my voice coming out slightly breathless.
He pushed a few locks of ebony hair off his forehead and smoothed a pale hand down the front of his finely woven black shirt. “Your friend is fine,” the Mixbreed said… and then he vanished like smoke on a wind.
The bastard literally disappeared, which meant that he was likely part magic user… but I didn’t give a rat’s rotten ass about that. The son of a bitch had taken a vial of my blood, and in return, he’d given me… fine.
I cursed myself as I made it back to the cave, thinking that I should have known better than to trust a Mixbreed. Swindlers, cheats, and liars, they were. That’s what everyone said, and in my experience, most stereotypes were stereotypes for a reason.
I was so wrapped up in my anger at Adriel that I didn’t notice the Hound leaning against the cave wall until I was damn near right beside him. For the second time tonight I had nearly jumped out of my skin with surprise arrivals, and I heaved a sigh when I realized who it was.
I bit my lip, half of my brain telling me to say s
omething mean and send him away, and the other half not allowing my mouth to actually do so. I would not go so far as to say I’d missed spending time with Ryker this past moon cycle… but I guess I’d gotten… used to having him around, and when he’d so abruptly stopped coming…
“Hey, little Wolf,” the Hound said.
I nodded in greeting, my arms folding over my chest, waiting for him to explain the purpose of his visit.
Instead, he said, “Did you miss me?”
“I see you all the time.”
“Yes, but not privately.” He took a tentative step forward.
For whatever reason, I did not back away. “What do you want?” I asked.
He took another step closer, the movement more aggressive this time. “I wanted to make sure you were okay.”
I gave him a look like this was stupid, because it was, and said, “Really? And why wouldn’t I be okay?”
Ryker shrugged, the muscles in his strong shoulders rising and falling. His blue eyes were locked on my face. “Because people have been disappearing lately,” he said slowly. “Vanishing without a trace… I’m sure you’ve heard rumors about it among the others.”
I schooled my features into careful indifference and chose my next words wisely. He had not asked a question, but he was waiting for an answer.
“You mean Dogs have been disappearing? Of course I’ve heard about it, but I thought it was mostly pups going missing. Why would you think I’m in danger?”
The Hound studied me, his sapphire eyes searching. I’d told him no more than what all the other Dogs knew; that puppies were disappearing and no one knew how. Purposely, I had not revealed what Ares had shared about the few exceptions—the older, collared Dogs who’d also disappeared.
And, of course, I did not tell him about Yarin or Yerik. He’d have to beat that information out of me, and even then, he’d have a tough time.
