Dead Zone

by Amber Lynn Natusch

  “Do I know how to salsa? My mother is Cuban. I’ve been dancing since I could walk. And I can teach anyone.” Those lustful eyes fell on me again. “Even the unwilling.”

  “Great!” Jenkins said, hopping over the bar. “I’ll find some music.”

  “Are you two fucking kidding me right now?”

  “You said you wanted an in with this guy,” Jenkins replied. “This is it.”

  “Come on,” Michael said, reaching his hand out toward me, “let’s see what your hips can do.”

  “Oh, my hips can do many things—impressive things—just not salsa.”

  “We’ll see about that once I’m done with you.”

  Big balls was back.

  When I didn’t accept his hand, he reached down and took mine anyway, then led me out from behind the bar. In the middle of the room, with Jenkins watching, he put his hands on my hips and stepped so close our bodies were touching.

  I could hear Jenkins snickering in the corner.

  “Now these are the basic steps,” he explained, going through what seemed like far too many moves. By the time he finished, I’d already forgotten the first five. “You need to let me lead, which I think will be the hardest part for you. Letting me take control.”

  “He’s got you on that one, half-breed.” Michael flashed angry eyes to Jenkins, taking offense at what he’d said. “No dude! Not like that. I didn’t mean it like that. I’m sorry…”

  I looked at the teenager, whose rage was palpable. “You’re a half-breed too, I take it?”

  “My father is white.”

  I smiled at him. “My father is the most feared man on the planet.” I added a wink for good measure to try and lighten the mood. Jenkins had slipped up in multiple ways by calling me that nickname in front of Michael.

  The kid smiled at me in return. “And your mother?”

  “She’s the best dancer I’ve ever met.”

  “Well then. Let’s hope you got some of her DNA.”

  Two painful hours later, just as the club was preparing to open, I could officially salsa dance. Was I amazing at it? No. Was it enough to score me points with Alejandro? I certainly hoped so.

  “See! You do have some of your mother’s moves in you,” Michael exclaimed.

  I groaned in response and schlepped my way back to the bar to rest on it. Supernatural badass or not, that shit was tiring.

  Michael was still beaming with pride, pleased with his teaching prowess, when the door to the club opened and TS walked in. One look at my former guardian and his excitement quickly died.

  “Hey! What are you doing here?” I asked, surprised to see him.

  He lifted up a wardrobe bag and smiled. “Your dress for tomorrow night.”

  “Wait,” Michael said, stepping toward me, “is he like your pimp or something?”

  TS’ eyes went wide, and Jenkins choked on a laugh, which he quickly tried to cover up with a cough.

  “No. TS is a friend of mine. A very close friend.”

  Michael’s expression soured, and he muttered something under his breath in Spanish.

  “No,” TS said, clearly having caught his words, “I’m not her lover.”

  “Don’t you have something to do in the back, salsa king?” I asked before the whole night got more ridiculous. I could tell he wasn’t thrilled about leaving, but was unwilling to argue. TS made him downright jumpy. Big balls was smarter than I thought.

  Once he disappeared from the room, TS approached.

  “Don’t ask,” I said, throwing up my hands to ward off his impending line of questioning. “The kid walked in while Jenkins and I were talking about tomorrow. Jenkins told him I was an escort. The good news is that I now know how to salsa, which I think might come in handy.”

  “How’s your Spanish?”

  “It’s passable, but apparently yours is on point, so we should be good.”

  “This should help too,” he said, laying the garment bag on the bar. “I need you to try it on to be sure it fits. If I need to do any…special alterations to it, I must do so now. I have to leave in a minute. Your father needs me.”

  “Again? But you’ll be back by tomorrow night, right?”

  “That is my hope, yes.”

  “I could go with her if you need me to,” Jenkins offered. “If you don’t want her to go alone. None of the others could take her because of who they are, but I could get in. Alejandro knows me and doesn’t see me as a threat.”

  “I don’t think that will be necessary,” TS replied, looking across the room at the lone wolf. From what I could see of his face, he looked angry, but I couldn’t feel an ounce of that emanating from him. In fact, I felt nothing at all.

  “Well if anything changes, let me know. I’ve got a tux hidden away somewhere.”

  “Duly noted,” I said, drawing their attention from one another. I took the bag and made my way toward the bathroom. “I’ll be right back.”

  Unfortunately, that was a lie. Once I got into the room, locking the door behind me just in case Michael had any notions of barging in, I unzipped the bag to find a very daring black dress looking back at me. A dress that, though long, exposed an awful lot of skin and was tricky to get into. After five minutes of struggling to do up the zipper, I finally held it closed as best I could and marched out into the bar.

  “Who picked this thing out?” I asked, storming toward TS as though my half-nakedness was his fault. He said nothing in response at first, only stared at the rather large cutout on the side of the dress; the one that left my right side from bra line to hip bare, with a narrow strip of fabric covering where my underwear was supposed to go before disappearing again. My entire right leg remained uncovered as well.

  “I believe Muses is behind this choice,” he finally said.

  Motherfucking Muses.

  “Of course he is. In truth, I’m surprised it isn’t worse.”

  “Do you need help with that?” TS indicated where I held the zipper closed with my hand.

  “Yeah. Do you mind?”

  He said nothing as he took the thin fabric into his hands and delicately zipped it together.

  It fit like a glove.

  “I have no idea how I’m supposed to wear anything under this.”

  “I think that’s the point,” Jenkins said. I looked over to find him staring rather intently at my exposed bits. “And it’s going to work like a charm. That leg sticking out is like chum to a shark.”

  “Wow, Jenks. Not really the most beautiful analogy ever,” I said dryly, “but thanks.”

  I started back toward the bathroom, feeling way too overexposed in front of those two. On my way, I practically slammed into Michael. At the sight of me, he dropped the rack of glasses he was carrying to the floor, the tinkling of the shards echoing through the room.

  “Ay mami…you didn’t need to learn salsa if that’s what you’re planning to wear to your party.”

  “Great. Thanks for that vote of confidence. Now, can you get out of my way?”

  “Your boobs look amazing.”

  “Don’t make me hurt you.”

  “Can I touch them?”

  “Jenkins!” I shouted, pushing past the awestruck teenager. “Put a leash on him before I knock him out.”

  “On it!”

  I heard footsteps on the broken glass as Jenkins hurried Michael out of the room. Before I entered the bathroom, I looked back to where TS stood by the bar, watching. Always watching.

  “I’ll be right out with this.”

  “Keep it here. I’m afraid I have to leave now. I’ll do everything I can to be with you tomorrow night.”

  I laughed. “You’d better. I’m not wearing this thing in public without you flanking my side for coverage.”

  The corner of his mouth twitched.

  “As you wish.”

  I came home around three a.m. to an empty house. After the incident between the PC and the wolves the other night, it made me anxious. I quickly texted Nico to see if he and Alek were
okay, and if Cooper was with them. He said that Cooper had planned to stop by the bar but didn’t get a chance. They’d been busy that night, but it was nothing to worry about. Then he asked if I had any news about the party. Sadly, I had nothing to tell him. I left out the fact that TS had been called away and might not be able to go. That was a battle I didn’t feel like having over text messages. Instead, I told him I was headed to bed and would see him later that morning.

  Before climbing into bed, I stared out my window at the nearly full moon and wondered exactly what it had in store for me the next night. The list of possibilities was too long to entertain, and my mind just kept adding new ones. I was confident that we were past the likelihood of my turning furry. With all the other werewolf issues and my lack of symptoms, I crossed it off the list—thank the universe for that. But there were still a lot of other options. Like shit going totally sideways at Alejandro’s.

  That was the one I feared the most.

  I wondered if the ghost (or ghosts) would show up and cause a shitstorm. Or if Cooper or Jenkins would have to escort me in TS’ absence, resulting in a potential full-moon-driven testosterone-fest that got them hurt. Knowing Alejandro’s powers were magically enhanced, I cringed at the thought. Uncle Cooper was a badass in his own right—Jenkins too, from what I knew—but putting either to the test against the juiced-up Northside alpha wasn’t something I wanted to do, let alone witness.

  Then I wondered if I was going to be blindsided by something else entirely. Something I’d never even considered. That was certainly conceivable, given my track record.

  I’d be a fool to ignore the possibility.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  I woke up around noon to an empty living area, but slowly, over the next couple of hours, the troops started to file in, looking for food. In an attempt to distract myself, I’d made plenty of it. The Fates looked shocked yet elated at my culinary offerings. Nico and Alek looked dubious. Cooper, however, just hugged me and filled his plate.

  The easiest way to a werewolf’s heart was always through his stomach.

  I wondered if I could somehow use that to my advantage with Alejandro.

  We all hung out like a family, and for the first time since I’d arrived in Chicago, I felt like we were one. As if they knew I was tense about the evening, nobody brought up the party at all—at least until Muses walked in. But even he let that sleeping dog lie for a little while.

  “Will TS be returning in time for your soirée this evening?” he asked before taking a bite of his food.

  “He said he’s going to do all he can to be here.”

  “You’re not going alone,” Cooper said, nearly choking on a bite of food. “I’m going if he’s not.”

  “Coop…I’m not so sure that’s a good…”

  “I’m going and that’s final, or I call your father and tell him the plan.”

  Damn. Uncle Coop pulled rank like a boss.

  Rather than argue with him—an argument I was certain to lose when the others chimed in—I just nodded in agreement and kept quiet. It was the path of least resistance for the time being. When it came time to leave for the party, I’d figure a way out of taking Cooper—like sneaking out of the house early and getting ready at Jenkins’ place.

  Right after he told me where he lived.

  The sun had just set and the moon was on the rise but I felt nothing. That bullet had been officially dodged. Cooper was at home, still waiting to see if TS would show in time for the party. My unanswered texts to my ex-guardian were not encouraging.

  The Fates left early to patrol, and Muses also ducked out before dinner, citing some lame thing he needed to do. He had a strange energy before he left the warehouse—one I couldn’t quite place. I’d never felt anything like it emanating from him, and it made me uneasy. I was glad to have him gone.

  “So what are we cooking tonight, Fi?” Cooper asked, hovering in front of the open fridge.

  “No clue. I think I burned myself out making all that food earlier.”

  He grumbled something under his breath, gathering a bunch of ingredients. When he kicked the door closed, his arms were so full of food he could barely see over it all.

  “You sure that’ll be enough?” I asked with a laugh.

  “If TS returns before we finish, probably not. Fingers crossed he doesn’t get back early.”

  I tried to hide my dismay at the thought.

  “You chop, I’ll cook. Deal?” Cooper asked, plopping down a shit-ton of vegetables in front of me.

  “Deal. But only if you crank some music. Chopping is always better with music.”

  He smiled at me before queuing up his playlist—his ‘90s playlist of amazingness.

  “George Michael!” I screamed when his voice came through the speakers.

  “The one and only.”

  I immediately started belting out the words to “Freedom” like it was my personal anthem. In some ways, it might have been. With combat boots stomping and ass swaying, I chopped the shit out of the veggies.

  Cooper was soon at my side, dancing along with me in perfect rhythm. We used to do this when I was growing up—pre-Little Church. We’d always been partners in crime, and it felt good to have a hint of that past creep back into my present. I felt a moment of pure joy that I desperately needed.

  Especially given the night we were in for.

  Alek and Nico came up from the garage, where they’d been preparing for their night out. They were arguing about something, not an uncommon occurrence. Alek approached Cooper and me in the kitchen, and given my jovial mood, I thought I’d try to bring him out of his Nico-induced funk.

  I soon learned that was a bad idea.

  “Alek!” I shouted over the music. He winced at my call. “Dance with me!” I put the knife down and reached for his hand. He successfully evaded my first attempt, but I was nothing if not persistent. “Don’t be a grump just because of Nico.”

  “Not now, Sapphira,” he said, pulling away.

  “C’mon, you used to let me do this all the time. Just one—”

  “NO!” he roared, shoving his face in mine until I stumbled back from him. His aura of rage practically knocked me over. While I tried to figure out what could have been so bad about his argument with Nico that he’d act that way toward me, I heard Cooper growl. A warning growl—a loud one.

  Cooper’s hand reached in front of me to gently push my body behind his. Then he took a step closer to Alek, who stood his ground without apology.

  “Phira,” Cooper said, his voice low and authoritative, “I need you to call Jenkins and get him over here. Now.”

  “What’s going on?”

  “The full moon warning…” he said, not daring to take his gaze off Alek. It took a moment for his words and their implication to sink in.

  “Oh no—”

  “Do it now. We might need him.”

  As I ran for my phone, Nico barged into the kitchen.

  “What the fuck, you two—”

  “Back up!” Cooper ordered. Despite his desire to argue, Nico did as he was told.

  “Jenkins!” I said, yelling to be heard over the noise at the club. “I need you here. At the warehouse.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “How fast can you get here?”

  “I’m leaving now. Tell me what’s going on.”

  “No time. Just drive like someone’s life depends on it.”

  I hung up the phone, the realization that the gravity of my warning hadn’t been exaggerated to motivate him hanging heavy around me. If Cooper and Jenkins couldn’t control my brother’s Change, someone would die that night. Someone I cared about.

  It was as simple as that.

  I ran to Nico’s side. He was hovering over where Alek now lay on the floor, writhing and foaming at the mouth. It was no longer a question of what was happening to him: only when it would occur.

  Though it felt like hours, it was likely only minutes later that I heard pounding on the metal door. It wa
s followed by a slew of angry expletives. Jenkins had arrived, and he was stressed. I could feel it from yards away. I wondered if he had sensed Alek’s Change as he approached the warehouse.

  I ran over to let him in before he broke the door down. He was in full alpha mode, storming across the room the second he was inside to assess the situation. Cooper eyed him tightly as he approached. Given the amount of testosterone or pheromones or whatever the hell wolves gave off in heightened situations, I was pleased to see that he wasn’t growling at Jenkins’ approach. Jenkins, however, could not have given two shits less. It was as if he didn’t even see Cooper there at first. He was laser-focused on my brother and his suffering—the impending Change headed his way.

  “You need to get out of here,” Cooper said to Nico and me, his voice low and commanding.

  “I’m not leaving him,” I argued. I could feel Nico shift beside me, his body tense. He wasn’t going anywhere either. Instead, he took my hand in his and squeezed it.

  “Phira,” Jenkins said, my name a warning.

  “This isn’t up for discussion. I don’t give a fuck what kind of danger you think I’m in. Nyx and I can handle it.”

  “I can handle it too,” Nico added.

  “Are you two willing to kill your brother to ensure that?” Cooper asked. Somehow, when he posed that question, I took it more seriously.

  “It won’t come to that.”

  He turned to pin glowing golden eyes on me. Everything about them said it might.

  “Wolves kill after their Change, Phira. That’s what they do.”

  “Right, but he’s hardly your average werewolf, Coop.”

  “And if he is?”

  That just wasn’t an option in my mind.

  “Then I’ll let you say ‘I told you so’ after he comes out of it. Alive.”

  Cooper hesitated. “Don’t make me choose between you two, Phira…”

  “You won’t have to. I’m telling you, I can feel it in my bones—it’s going to be okay.”

  He seemed to consider that for a moment, having trusted my mother’s empath abilities for years. But there was a shadow of skepticism clouding his energy, telling me he wasn’t so eager to trust my judgment. My past behavior had bitten me in the ass yet again.