Heir to the Alpha: Episodes 1 & 2: A Tarker’s Hollow Serial

by Black, Tasha

  “Thanks,” she said with a grin.

  “What was that?” Cressida asked.

  “A shadow demon,” Grace replied. “They feed on excess magic.”

  “Cool,” Cressida nodded. “But I was talking about that thing your mouth is doing, where the corners go up like that. I wasn’t sure you still knew how to smile.”

  Grace couldn’t really argue. The past few months hadn’t exactly been her most cheerful. Yet another reason she was glad to have Cressida along. Sometimes it was nice to have someone around who didn’t take everything, or anything, so damned seriously all the time.

  “Very funny,” Grace admitted. “The good news is, this probably means the moroi is close.”

  “And the bad news?” Cressida asked.

  The adrenaline of the magic was wearing thin already. Grace began to feel its heavy price pulling at her.

  Cressida waited, fingering the collar of the shirt she’d already begun to unbutton.

  Grace dragged her eyes from the sight of flawless skin, the shadow of tender cleavage.

  Grace liked men.

  At least, she always had.

  But there weren’t any men here. And the magic didn’t care about preferences. Its price was desire. And the desire was ruthless.

  Grace looked pointedly down at her hands, wondering if they could make it to the motel before the crushing migraine set in from denying her magic its price.

  “What’s the bad news?” Cressida asked again. Her voice was a symphony Grace had never noticed before.

  “The moroi is attracted to magic,” Grace explained. “And I just used enough to make sure it definitely knows we’re here.”

  Episode 2

  Chapter 1

  Cressida drove Grace’s Honda Civic, something she had never been permitted to do during any of their previous adventures. She drove more carefully than usual and was relieved to reach the Beachfront Motel quickly.

  In spite of its name, the Beachfront Motel was nowhere near the beach.

  She parked and hopped out of the car. Something about the place smelled familiar - not just the motel, the whole town, although she was sure she had never been there before.

  Before she had time to give it much thought, Grace rushed to join her. The tiny Asian woman normally carried herself like a warrior, but her movements were dreamier tonight.

  Cressida knew the price of Grace’s magic of course. The poor woman was always the picture of restraint and good taste. It seemed almost cruel that the magic made her horny as hell.

  Cressida realized she felt sorry for Grace. It was one thing to know someone’s hilariously embarrassing secret and another to have them helplessly staring down your shirt with sparkling eyes.

  Shit.

  Cressida buttoned up her shirt all the way up as they walked to the glass door of the motel.

  Out of the corner of her eye she could see that Grace looked disappointed and embarrassed at the same time. Classic.

  This was all going to be super funny though, when Grace was feeling herself again.

  A little bell over the door dinged and the young guy behind the counter looked up.

  Then he did a double take straight out of a movie. Definitely checking them out.

  Grace slid a hand slowly up Cressida’s arm to brush her hair over her shoulder. Then she slid her hand down to Cress’s elbow and back up again slowly.

  Damn. That must have been some spell.

  The guy behind the counter watched, spellbound himself. He was probably pretty cute normally with his muscular build, too long brown hair and blue eyes. Right now though, he just looked slack-jawed.

  “Can we get a room, Tiger?” Cressida asked him.

  “Sure,” he said. “Um. How long will you be staying?”

  Grace slid her hand down Cressida’s neck and delicately popped open one of the buttons on her shirt.

  “We’ll probably only need it for an hour or two, but I guess we’ll stay the whole night.” Cressida winked at the guy, unable to keep from messing with him a little.

  He stared at her in abject wonder.

  “So, do you like want a credit card or something?” she asked.

  “What?” he asked.

  “The room,” Cressida prompted him. “Can we pay for it?”

  “Oh,” he said, “sure.” Somehow he wrested his eyes from the place where Grace’s small fingers fought with the next button on Cressida’s shirt.

  He began to type on a computer that Cressida figured was older than she was.

  When he seemed to get his bearings again, she interjected.

  “Can we get something away from the other guests?” she asked. “We might get a little loud.”

  She could almost hear his swallow. He nodded silently.

  “Easy pet,” she gave Grace’s hand a swat when the button gave way and she started on the next one.

  Grace whimpered and nuzzled Cressida’s shoulder.

  At last the guy handed Cressida an actual key on a plastic holder.

  “Need any help?” he asked hopefully.

  “We’ll call if we do,” she winked.

  Before he could answer she grabbed Grace and dragged them off to the room.

  Cressida paused a moment outside of Room 58, gathering herself. Hotel rooms were hell on wolves. Her sensitive nose meant she could usually smell everything the room’s previous occupants had done in them. And it was never anything good.

  She opened the door and took a deep breath.

  Not bad.

  Thank god it was the off-season. And that waitress, Nancy, had been right. It was cleaned well and regularly.

  She went in and Grace trailed after her like a sex-starved ghost.

  It was pretty shabby. The proprietor must be ancient. Or she furnished her place out of Goodwill.

  The carpet was a faded Pepto Bismol pink with matching flowery wallpaper, two big beds, each with flowered comforters, and a threadbare pink sofa in a nook by the room’s only window. There was a throw pillow on the sofa with the embroidered advice, Keep Calm and Cross Stitch.

  Grace stretched luxuriously, peeling her shirt over her head as she did. A bit of black lace underneath covered her small breasts.

  Even in the sticks, the buttoned-up policewoman liked cute lingerie.

  Grace slid off her slacks to reveal the matching panties. “Aren’t you going to get comfy, Cress?” she purred. “It’s been so long since we’ve had a bed to sleep in.”

  The flirting was adorable.

  Cressida had been known to sleep with women once in a while, and her friend was a tasty little piece, but she knew Grace didn’t actually want sex. Nope, hitting that was the one guarantee that the kickass partnership they had would be flushed down the toilet.

  Though, god, it had been so long since she’d had any regular action.

  Her mind went back to the woods when Javier had leapt onto her and they’d practically devoured each other. How long ago had that been?

  Grace slid a lacy strap down over her bicep.

  Damn, Cressida was feeling it, in spite of herself.

  She turned away before it showed on her face.

  If there was no decent action in this town, that motel clerk might just get a night to tell his buddies about.

  But looking away from Grace didn’t take away the burn, and she wasn’t hungry for the hotel clerk either.

  Suddenly, her head was full of Javier, his dark eyes, his familiar smell, his warm smile, the feel of his hands and mouth all over her…

  Damn it. I’m not his mate. I can do what I want.

  And I definitely don’t miss him. That would be lame.

  Oblivious to the battle in Cressida’s head, Grace sat down on the bed closest to the window and patted the space next to her, giving Cressida a significant look.

  Oh boy.

  Cressida reached into her bag and pulled out a bottle of peach Snapple. Thankfully, she knew that Grace had a weakness for sugary drinks.

  “Here,” she s
aid, handing it to her amorous friend. “I’m going to go into the bathroom and freshen up. Why don’t you um… wet your whistle?”

  Wet your whistle? Who says that? Jesus, I’m losing it.

  Grace was too far gone to notice the goofy turn of phrase. She took a long swig of the tea and gave Cressida a wink so big it was almost comical.

  “Good girl,” Cressida told her. “Be right back.”

  She went into the bathroom. Nothing scurried when she hit the lights. That was promising.

  She washed up and puttered around for a few minutes.

  When she opened the door again, Grace was sprawled out on the bed, fast asleep.

  Cressida smiled.

  “You’ll thank me in the morning,” she whispered as she covered her friend with a warm blanket. “Me and the Ambien I crushed into that iced tea.”

  Chapter 2

  Grace was dreaming again, wrapped in the sheets, which had seemed to come to life of their own accord.

  It was Julian, of course. He was using his magic to bind her, though her whole body cried out for satisfaction under a towering wave of lust.

  “Easy pet,” Julian murmured in her ear, the tickle of his warm breath sending shivers down her spine.

  “Julian,” she whimpered as he slid his hand down her belly, too slowly.

  She lost track of her own sounds as his fingers found her sex, traced her opening, tugged gently at her swollen clit.

  She tried to lift her hips but the sheets swirled around her like a hundred hands, holding her back, holding her open for his touch.

  He pressed his forehead to hers and for a moment her physical need was crowded out by emotion.

  “I love you,” he whispered.

  She wanted to reply but his hands were finally working her below in just the way she needed.

  She opened her mouth and the only thing that came out was a moan.

  This man. This man who pushed her to the edge of her body and her emotions at once.

  If it were only real.

  Grace balanced on the precipice, the need for release pulling at her inexorably. Yet, impossibly, she fought her pleasure now - knowing that somehow the only way to keep Julian in her arms was to remain at this agonizing peak of tension.

  Then he kissed her and slid a finger inside her. Against her will, Grace felt her body explode with pleasure.

  She awoke to find herself clutching a pillow with her left hand, the fingers of her right between her legs.

  The room was dark.

  She sat up as quietly as she could. Thank god her friend hadn’t seen that.

  “Nice dream, huh?” Cressida remarked. The slender she-wolf sat on the back of the sofa, staring out the window at the moonlit buildings that blocked their view of the ocean.

  Crap.

  Oh.

  Oh, crap.

  “Hey,” Grace said, her voice still rough with sleep. “Did we… um… Did we…?”

  Cressida chuckled.

  “I always thought you were kind of straight-laced, but you’re a minx in the sack.”

  Oh, no.

  “Oh. Oh, no. I’m sorry,” Grace said, reeling in the horror of it. “I didn’t mean to. I mean, it’s the magic…”

  “Oh don’t be sorry,” Cressida said, turning to her. “It was worth it. I felt like I needed a cigarette or something after. And I don’t even smoke. And look at you, you weren’t even done.”

  Grace felt dirty all over. It wasn’t Cressida’s fault, of course. She cringed at the memory of her behavior.

  “I’m fucking with you,” Cressida said sadly.

  What?

  “What?” Grace asked.

  “We didn’t sleep together, you nut,” Cressida laughed. “You fell asleep while I was in the bathroom. I was hoping to tease you about this for at least a couple of weeks. But I can’t do it. Not with that hurt puppy dog look on your face.”

  Relief washed over Grace and she didn’t even care that she’d been had. She laughed and got out of bed, carefully wrapping a sheet around herself as Cressida hopped off the sofa. Grace noticed her friend held the worn wooden carving of the crow her grandfather had given her. She seemed to be more and more fascinated with the thing lately.

  “I have one question though,” Cressida said, before Grace could make it to the bathroom.

  “Yes?”

  “There was a guy downstairs,” Cressida said. “How come you didn’t flirt with him?”

  “The magic doesn’t exactly come with an instruction manual,” Grace said. “But I would guess it’s because I like you. You’re smart and stuff.”

  She blushed deeply, realizing it might sound like she was coming on to her friend again.

  “As a friend,” Grace clarified quickly.

  “Oh, sure,” Cressida said, looking pleased. “You do think I’m smart, though. Even if it’s just as a friend?” She arched an eyebrow suggestively.

  Grace threw a pillow at her friend’s head and dashed into the bathroom laughing before Cressida could retaliate.

  Cressida had put her trust in Grace when the shadow demon had attacked last night, then turned around and proven Grace could do the same with her.

  Grace wasn’t sure she was ready to really trust anyone.

  But she was determined to try.

  Chapter 3

  Ainsley headed for Tarker’s Hollow Realty Group as the sun rose over her little village.

  Along the long stretch of sidewalk, a handful of commuters hurried toward the train station.

  Her wolf’s nose told her that they needn’t hurry, the train was held up at the prior station, but since she would have no reason to know that, she silently stepped aside as a businessman dashed past her, briefcase swinging.

  “Sorry,” he yelled back to her as he crossed the street, making her smile.

  Tarker’s Hollow was so different from her time in New York. Ainsley savored every bit of evidence that the people of her hometown still had good manners.

  Though her new friends from Copper Creek might disagree.

  In spite of their humble way of life back in the mining town, their manners seemed more formal and even more stringently applied than her own. Ainsley wondered if they would ever get the message that their kids didn’t need to call someone “ma’am” at the end of every sentence. She had already given up on getting anyone under twenty-five to call her by her first name.

  She suspected they would adjust, and she would adjust too, if she were smart, and they’d meet somewhere in the middle. That was America, after all, and variety was the spice of life.

  She smoothed her skirt down over her hips and opened the door to the small real estate firm.

  “Hi, Ainsley,” Patty Loveless said from the front desk.

  “Hi, Patty,” she replied. “Is Dulcie here?”

  “Right in back,” Patty winked and indicated the hallway leading back to the broker’s office.

  Dulcie wasn’t the owner of the company, but she had been acting as interim broker while the attorney tried to sort out Charley Coslaw’s affairs after he had skipped town last fall.

  Of course, Ainsley knew that Charley wasn’t really a missing person, at least not in the traditional sense.

  She had watched him disappear into the belly of the moroi. It was ironic that he had become the first victim of the thing his own dark magic helped to free.

  All those years while Ainsley was growing up, Charley had been lying in wait, pretending to be a normal guy, plotting to open the portal and ruin them all.

  The idea of it still shook her to the core.

  At any rate, Charley didn’t have many close relatives, so it was easy enough to plant a few rumors to cover his disappearance. He had an estranged sister on the west coast who just wanted to sell the business and be done. All of which made it easy for Ainsley to try and facilitate the purchase of the building. She had already set up a lease, and they’d renamed the business Tarker’s Hollow Realty Group - she couldn’t bear to see Charley’s name on t
he sign anymore.

  Despite doing very well for herself in the Manhattan real estate market, Ainsley had no interest in running a real estate firm, but she didn’t mind bankrolling one. And with wolves as well as magic in Tarker’s Hollow, it was essential to have someone on the inside to help them understand who was coming in and out of their little town.

  That’s where Dulcie came in. She was the pack contact for real estate, even though she wasn’t a part of the pack. Mac said she was trustworthy, and that was enough for Ainsley.

  It became readily apparent that she was an invaluable asset as the new residents from Copper Creek arrived and had to find homes quickly in the small college town. Dulcie had worked tirelessly and often without a commission to secure apartments for each and every one of them. They were down to just a few families sharing now. Ainsley hoped it would be straightened out completely by spring when the renting professors went out to buy houses.

  “Oh, Ainsley, I’m so glad you’re here.” Dulcie smiled up at Ainsley when she tapped on the door.

  “Did you find a place for the Leonards?” Ainsley asked. “I meant what I said about any price being fine. They really need their own space.”

  “I have a lead,” Dulcie chirped. “But that’s not why I called you.”

  Dulcie shut the door behind her and sat on the wooden chair opposite her desk. It was neat and tidy except for the ring of condensation around her enormous coffee concoction.

  “There has been an influx of visitors to town,” Dulcie said carefully.

  “You mean besides the Copper Creek people?” Ainsley asked.

  Dulcie nodded.

  “I’ve been fielding an unusual amount of walk in business from people visiting the town and curious about living here.”

  “Do you think it’s mainly families visiting the college?” Ainsley asked.

  “No.” Dulcie shook her head. “I think something about the town is drawing a certain kind of people to it.”

  “Like wolves,” Ainsley offered, wondering why Dulcie was being so delicate about it.

  “Wolves and… others,” Dulcie said.

  “Others?” Ainsley asked.