First Bite (The Dark Wolf Series)

by Dani Harper

  “Hey, you’re dressed!” he protested. “How’d you pull that off?”

  “With difficulty, believe me.”

  “Well, Jesus, tell me how to do it, will ya?”

  She sighed and put a hand to her head. “Look, it took me all afternoon to teach you how to shift—I doubt I could explain how to keep your clothes. It’s a lot more complicated than Changing your form. Maybe Travis could tell you once I find him. He’s a much better teacher.”

  Geneva. Neva. One and the same. Baker felt like a complete idiot for not catching on sooner. “Um, he wouldn’t be a big yellow wolf, would he?” He hoped he was wrong, even as he knew damn fucking well he wasn’t. The golden wolf had called out a warning to Neva.

  She brightened at once. “Yeah, that’s him. Did you see him? Do you know where he is?”

  “I’m really sorry. The bitch queen’s got him.”

  EIGHTEEN

  Neva sat with her back against a fallen log, staring at the campfire Baker had insisted on making. She would have been too cautious to risk it, but they were near a town and it would be less obvious to anyone looking for them than if they built it out in the middle of nowhere. And she had to admit, the flames were strangely comforting. It was probably part of the human DNA, needing to build fires to keep the monsters away. What did Changelings use to keep their monsters away? Did they have any, or were they just not afraid of anything?

  She was definitely afraid. Her sister was a monster, and now the monster had Travis. Meredith also had Baker’s friend Riley. Hell, Meredith had a whole bunch of people, each of whom must matter to someone. How on earth were two green Changelings going to go up against the bitch queen, as Baker had so aptly named her, and not be captured, killed, zombified, or worse, within the first three minutes?

  All Neva knew was that she had to try. Her inner wolf was pining for Travis, and frankly—though it was mortifying to admit it—she was, too. Who’d have guessed? But even if she didn’t care about him a bit, there was no way she could leave him in Meredith’s merciless clutches, any more than she could maroon Baker in the sinkhole. It would be unconscionable. And if that was true, if that’s what she really believed, then she’d had a responsibility all along. The damn universe did indeed have a plan for her, a totally insane get-yourself-killed-or-worse kind of plan. It wasn’t enough to escape from her sociopathic twin, not enough to prevent herself from being used by Meredith to hurt people.

  Neva had to stop her.

  If this was destiny, then her destiny sucked. How the hell was she going to accomplish such an impossible task? Baker was determined to go back and free his friend, but he didn’t have any ideas, either. In fact, they hadn’t even found him any clothes yet, other than a torn-up plaid shirt in a ditch that he’d fashioned into what he laughingly called a kilt. It was more like a loincloth, really, but they were both more comfortable now that his dangly bits were covered up.

  A glowing branch collapsed in the fire, sending up a shower of yellow sparks. It put Neva in mind of the static buildup that occurred during shape-shifting, and its telltale shower of blue sparks afterward. A new thought occurred to her. When she’d faced Meredith before, Neva had been wholly human. Now she was more than that, with a repertoire of lupine skills she hadn’t begun to try out yet. She was Changeling.

  Wolf can help?

  Sheesh, was she ever going to get used to her alter ego listening in on her thoughts? It might be a handy way to communicate, but it was still disconcerting. And so was talking to herself, but hey, maybe it was past time to have an in-depth conversation. Yes, Neva said simply, tightening the focus of her mindspeak as Travis had taught her so that only the glossy dark creature that shared her existence could hear. Yes, need wolf’s help.

  Overall, Meredith was pleased with the results of her experiments. She’d begun with small and simple spells, of course, adding drops of blood to them from the pint obtained earlier from the big blond shape-shifter. And when she’d run out of that, she simply went straight to the source and lightly scored his chest with the curved steel blade of her boline, collecting the precious drops in a blue clay pot the size of a robin’s egg. She used her fingers to wipe up the few drops that remained glistening on his skin—after all, it wouldn’t do to waste them—and tasted them as soon as she turned her back to him.

  There was no doubt about her body’s reaction. This werewolf’s blood was far more powerful than any human blood she’d sampled before. More powerful than any blood. She’d been working all night now, and she felt as fresh as if she’d just begun. If only she’d thought to try Andrei’s blood while he was still alive, she could have known all this a long time ago. She might even have kept the dear old guy around. At the time, however, she wasn’t as advanced magically as she was now, hadn’t even begun to consider that there might be a more potent substance than human blood out there.

  After all, none of her books had ever mentioned it.

  It was certainly written in her own grimoires now. Who knew, perhaps she was writing a new chapter in magical history. Of course, no one would ever know, because she didn’t plan to show it to anyone else. The first rule of power is don’t share it. Meredith glanced over at the shape-shifter hanging upside down on the wall. Dozens of long, razor-thin cuts striped his chest with minute beads of blood welling up here and there. She giggled as she imagined writing a blog of magical tips. Helpful hint—Always have a live source ready at hand when you’re spell crafting.

  Tapping her lip with her finger, she considered him. Her new toy was big, strong, powerful, and a born werewolf. She’d bet he was even better than Andrei in bed—and not only did she deserve a little fun after working so hard, but the energy could also power some fabulous spells.

  The only wrench in her plans was his poor attitude. Of all the bad luck…As it turned out, her latest prize belonged to that utterly frustrating 1 percent that seemed completely immune to her control. Magic couldn’t even charm his name out of him. There was no help for it; he would simply have to be killed as soon as she was done with him. He was too dangerous otherwise. In fact, she should have that Riley slaughtered, too, and sooner rather than later.

  She chided herself then. Now darling, that’s how you’ve always handled the situation. Those who opposed her were simply killed. It was effective, it was convenient, and it was cheap, but it didn’t get rid of the long-term problem. Plus it prevented her from fully utilizing that curious 1 percent. She should be experimenting to see if there was something valuable in their blood, too. What if she was missing something? Besides, she said to herself. Think of the challenge it would be.

  Drawing herself up to her full height, she dusted the ash from her hands. A challenge always excited her, and she idly fondled the curls between her legs with one hand as she contemplated what she might do with this big, handsome specimen. She would break him. She would. Because if she could find a way to compel him, then there wouldn’t be a werewolf or human left in the world whom she could not bend to her will.

  Her laughter echoed throughout the great empty expanse of the marble-clad room, startling the subject of her plans into opening his eyes.

  Baker shook his head. “No, I’m telling you that Riley wasn’t taken over and neither was I. I don’t know how this mind-control thing works, but nothing happened to me or him. In fact, the dumb ass picked a fight with your sister.”

  “You’re kidding me. That’s suicide,” said Neva.

  “It almost was. She wanted him alive, though, at least for now, so her goons dragged him off after she beat the living shit out of him.”

  “And when she ran off with the rest of the pack, you didn’t want to follow? No impulse, no urge, no compulsions, nothing?”

  “I don’t get why you find it so amazing—you left her, too. And nothing’s dragged you back yet.”

  Nothing except her fear for Travis and her reluctant acceptance of an impossible task: to stop her twin. “Maybe I was able to get away because Meredith hadn’t put a spell on me
yet. She may have counted on her ability to control me without it.” It made the most sense. Meredith had been bossing her around since they were babies sharing a playpen together. Taking her toys. Hitting and pinching her. Working up tears and successfully blaming Neva for things that got broken, wrecked, or went missing around the house. When they went to school, Meredith stole away her friends, spread rumors about her, tattled to the teachers about made-up crap. In general, Meredith had done her utmost to make Neva’s life a misery. In high school, she’d told everybody that Neva had STDs. The fact that it was completely untrue didn’t stop the teasing. Still, Neva had managed to have one new boy interested in her enough to ask her to the graduation dance—until Meredith convinced him to take her instead. She even had sex with him in the parking lot at the back of the high school, knowing that Neva would hear of it.

  So of course Meredith expected to continue controlling me, she thought. Why waste magical effort on a dog that was already trained?

  Or has magic been involved all along?

  Neva frowned. She’d never thought to ask that question before, perhaps because it was only recently that she’d learned of Meredith’s powers. Many little memories began coming together to form a frightening picture. Sure, Neva had been surprised to see her sister’s command of magic, but if she really thought it through, hadn’t the signs been there much earlier? Exactly how had Meredith fooled so many people into believing that she was the “good” child? Almost everyone—Mom, Dad, uncles, aunts, in fact any other adults—immediately accepted Meredith’s version of events as the truth. Neva was almost never asked for her side at all. No one seemed to consider for a moment that she had an identical twin. Not even the police who showed up at the door when she was sixteen and charged her with driving a stolen car into a convenience-store window. Neva had been home all night, but nobody seemed to be able to hear her when she told them that. Even her lawyer didn’t question a thing.

  So just how long had Meredith been practicing magic? Since high school? Middle school? Hell, what about kindergarten?

  Unaware of her train of thought, Baker poked the fire with a stick, causing a collapse of several glowing branches. “You know, maybe it works like hypnosis.”

  “What does?”

  “The bitch queen’s magic. I mean, some people can’t be hypnotized, right?”

  “So maybe some people can’t be compelled by her magic?”

  “Yeah, like that. Or maybe it’s an animal thing, because we’re werewolves now. They say that animals can’t be hypnotized, but I think they can. I’ve seen a guy who could handle some pretty mean-spirited horses like they were pet dogs, but nobody else could do it. He said he started out practicing with small animals when he was young—”

  Whatever else Baker said was lost in the roaring noise between her ears. Omigod, the pets. Every hapless creature that was ever adopted by the Ross family had vanished. Turtles, fish, parakeets, cats, dogs…all ran away or were “lost.” As an adult, Neva figured the pets were probably dying and her parents were just covering it up, unwisely trying to spare their kids. But what if Meredith was involved with the disappearances? Was she practicing magic on them? Or something even worse?

  Neva felt ill, but gave herself a mental smack in the head. I’m asking all the wrong questions, she told herself. It no longer matters when it started or how. There’s only one question to consider—can Meredith control me or not?

  “I think you might be right,” she said to Baker. “Meredith put a helluva lot of effort into controlling everyone around me, but I don’t remember any occasion where I did something against my own will or something out of character.” It was an epiphany. She’d spent her growing-up years in a whirlwind of drama, far too busy struggling with the latest nastiness inflicted by Meredith to notice that everyone was a puppet but her. Perhaps that was the real reason Meredith hated her so much.

  “Damn, but I’m starving,” Baker said suddenly.

  “We ate everything I had in my backpack,” she said. Even some tins of sardines in mustard she’d chosen for protein and portability—and they’d tasted every bit as appealing as the labels promised. Not.

  “Can’t we get some real chow someplace?” Baker clutched his stomach like he was in pain. “And I need some clothes, too. I’m not cold, but I sure as hell can’t go to many parties dressed like this.”

  Party. Dressed. Party dress. An outrageous thought occurred to Neva right then, and she wondered if she was gutsy enough to follow through on such a plan. It would only work if Baker had been right and Meredith couldn’t magically control her, or use her position as Neva’s sire to compel her. If Baker was wrong, the plan still might work if Neva could just stay under her sister’s radar as long as possible. Meredith couldn’t command her if she didn’t know she was there.

  “You know, I think I need a new outfit, too,” murmured Neva. “An expensive one.”

  “What?”

  “Never mind. Come on, we’re going to town.”

  His concrete cell had all the comforts of a morgue locker, but Travis was relieved to be back in it. Even if he had been thrown onto the unforgiving floor like a bag of potatoes. He crawled up onto the cold metal bench and lay there with every cell in his body yelping at him at once, but it was still a relief. He’d lost track of how many hours he’d hung upside down in Meredith’s dark, death-filled room while she worked happily away on her spells like a first grader absorbed in finger painting. It hadn’t been fun, but he got through it by focusing all his thoughts on Neva—her dark, wavy hair that was so soft to the touch, her espresso-brown eyes, her freckles, and even her smart-ass mouth. She was going to be so pissed when he explained how his wolf had claimed her. That thought alone sent a ghost of a smile across his face. He drew strength from his feelings for her, even looked forward to her kicking his ass, and he felt confident he’d get through his present situation…

  Until Meredith decided to summon up some company…and a pair of orange-eyed demons with shining iridescent scales stepped from the deep shadows to answer her call.

  Elliptical pupils like those of a cat fastened on him immediately, but no cat ever had eyes the size of a frickin’ coffee-cup lid. He never saw the creatures move. In one heartbeat, they towered over the woman who had called them, and in the next beat they were hovering over him. Small but scythe-like talons began scraping off tiny fragments of skin from his chest and arms, like bloody snowflakes, which they licked up daintily with long, anteater-like tongues.

  Meredith had been as delighted as a child with a new puppy. Still naked save for her necklace, gold hair tumbling from the clasp she’d bound it with, she’d squealed and laughed and clapped her hands as she watched him writhe under the effects of those hellish claws. Christ, it was like being worked over with miniature vegetable peelers. Travis gritted his teeth and determined not to make one single sound—damned if he was going to add to the crazy bitch’s enjoyment. If it could be called a good thing, the demons’ mouths were very tiny in proportion to their size. There’d be nothing left of him in short order otherwise.

  Of course, that just meant it was gonna take a whole lot longer for them to kill him.

  Without warning, the creatures vanished like greasy soap bubbles, leaving behind nothing but an oily mist that drifted back into the deep shadows. Meredith cursed, and Travis figured they’d used up whatever magical pass she’d bestowed on them. Still cursing, she added notes to her book with vicious strokes of the pen before throwing it to one side and striding out of the room. The guards rushed in almost immediately then, which cheered Travis considerably. He appreciated their speed even when they’d punched him in the head and gut a few times. And he was still thankful for the guards’ efficiency even though he was dragged from the room by his feet, facedown along the marble floor tiles.

  Because several sets of enormous orange eyes were watching him from the blackness of the shadows.

  NINETEEN

  Neva had no idea how Travis managed to live with his l
ight-fingered lifestyle. Did he hate it as much as she did? She hadn’t thought so at first, but she saw him differently now. Between his fierce independence and the mile-wide streak of decency he tried to hide, he probably despised stealing as much or more than she did. He claimed it had become necessary from a sheer lack of ID, but couldn’t he buy some fake ID? Oh, crap, that’s illegal, too. Maybe a person could get used to thievery, but she didn’t want to find out. If Changelings really lived as long as Travis said they did, she promised herself she’d figure out some other way of getting along, even if she had to sell macramé bracelets by the side of the goddamn road.

  Of course, if her plan didn’t work out, she wasn’t going to live long enough to worry about little details like ethics.

  Early evening in Jackson, Nebraska, meant that the bar was open for sure. A green-and-orange neon sign on the roof proclaimed it to be ELO. Not a very catchy name, she thought, until she got closer and read the simple painted letters over the door: El Lobo Oscuro. If there was such a thing as omens, this had to be one, although it was hard to tell if it was good or bad: The Dark Wolf.

  Neva opted to walk down both sides of Main Street first, sauntering casually as if sightseeing. The town was quaint. The facades of the old buildings were brick, and the street itself was made of brick paving stones. There were few stores and fewer window displays, but at least she learned that everything was open late tonight. She watched everyone out of her peripheral vision, looking for just the right person. And by that she meant, sadly, victim. She had to have money, and she had to spend some of it right here in this little town. Therefore, it would be a very bad idea to snatch a credit card from anybody local.