by Eve Langlais
“Don’t you mean what I am?” Adara made a moue of displeasure. “Did it ever occur to either of you that I don’t want to be different?” Different could get her locked away.
“You make it sound like being unique is a bad thing.” Logan squeezed her hand. “I prefer to think of myself as an improved version of human.”
Titus snorted. “If you’re improved, then I’m superior.”
“You wish, bloodsucker.”
The guys glared at each other. Anxious to break the staring match before it evolved into something more physical, she blurted out the first thing that came to mind. “How did you become a werewolf?”
Her query saw Logan glancing at her, a smile quirking his lips. “Another lycan bit me, of course. I was seventeen at the time, and I’d gone drinking in the woods with some friends. I went to take care of some business when it attacked me.”
“That’s horrible.”
He laughed. “And complete bullshit. I was born this way.”
“Born? But how?”
“Well, my father met my mother and—”
She glared.
Logan chuckled. “I was born like any other person is. Except my genes are different. When I hit puberty, I fully changed for the first time. During a big, bright full moon.”
“Did it hurt?”
“Fuck, yeah. I screamed that first time, and the time after. Eventually, you learn to block out the pain, especially given the exhilaration.”
“So you only change on full moons?” She frowned. “Wait, that can’t be right because I saw you…” She hesitated.
“See, you do remember, honey. It’s not a dream or a fantasy.”
“Then why does it feel so hazy?”
“Because someone has been messing with your mind,” Titus replied.
“That makes no sense, just like the whole wolf thing. Men don’t change into animals.”
“You’re right, men don’t. Lycans do. I can change pretty much at will, but not all lycanthropes can. It takes strength.”
“So, you could do it right now?”
“If you want, then, yes, I could.”
She wanted him to. To prove it. Because her mind kept trying to insist that it hadn’t happened. As if he read her mind, he held up his hand, and it changed.
Her eyes widened.
Logan’s expression had a smug I told you so happening.
“And there are more of you?”
“More than you’d imagine. I’m the pack leader for this sector.”
“Meaning, he rules the dogs, and any who enter his territory must come pay him obeisance,” Titus added.
“With newbies, it’s best to ensure they know there’re rules and that I’ll enforce them,” Logan said.
It all made a strange sense. “How long have you been the leader?”
“Going on forty years now.”
She blinked. “Forty! But you don’t even look thirty.” She scrutinized his face, looking for the signs of age, but he appeared to be in his late twenties, early thirties at the oldest.
“We age better than humans and live longer, too. One of the benefits. If you think I’m old, you should ask Titus here how old he is.”
She turned a questioning gaze his way.
Titus glared at Logan before answering. “Let’s just say I remember when this country was a wild place where a man could make his fortune.”
“You’re that old?” Her gaze grew wide.
“Age is only a number. And I would add the dog isn’t exactly as young as he appears.”
“But I’m not ancient like you.”
“I prefer to think of myself as growing more unique with age, like a fine wine.”
“Whatever floats your boat, gramps.” Logan snickered.
She wanted to understand more. “Were you born a vampire?”
“It’s more complicated than that,” Titus answered. “And not at all a pleasant recollection. I think we’ve digressed enough. The original topic was you, dearest, and what you might be.”
His reminder that she didn’t even know herself extinguished her rapt interest in the men’s pasts. “Yeah, so you both keep reminding me. But if I can’t remember who am I, then how are we supposed to figure it out? I mean, I could be dangerous.” Ha, like she’d believe that. “What if I have some special power and accidentally use it and hurt someone?” An image flickered in her mind—I swing my sword which gleams with the light of righteousness and…
Forget!
Pain shot through her, and she grabbed her head with a moan. Cool hands covered hers, and through squinting eyes, she saw Titus kneeling before her.
“Look at me,” he ordered. “It’s okay, you’re safe here. Don’t let the memory bother you.”
She did as he ordered, allowing herself to sink into his blue depths and the soothing tone of his voice. The pain receded, along with the image. She smiled at Titus wanly. “It’s gone now.”
“Do you suffer pain each time you remember something?” he asked.
Adara shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe. I have a hard time remembering things. Even things that supposedly just happened.” A dig at Logan’s assertion she’d run into zombies.
“I’ve heard of people protecting their minds from a painful event or past, but in her case, it seems like any attempt to get her to recall something ends up with her in agony,” said Logan, who drew her into the warmth of his body. Adara snuggled, unable to resist the safety and comfort he offered.
“Whatever the cause, it’s not natural.” Titus stood. “There’s a spell on her mind that triggers when she tries to probe her past.”
“A spell?” Adara was past incredulity. Nothing since her convalescence had aided her, so why not believe in the impossible, the mythical? “How do we get rid of it?”
“I don’t know.” Titus shrugged. “Attempting to remove it without finding out more about you and how you came to this point could prove dangerous.”
“We can’t sit back and do nothing,” said Logan, voicing her own thought.
“Of course, not. I think it’s time we discovered more about Adara, and the best place to start is with her admitting doctor, the first one to see her with her injuries.”
“You mean go back to the hospital?” Dread made her body tighten, but Logan, as if sensing her disquiet, hugged her closer.
“You won’t be alone,” he murmured.
“And you needn’t fear that anyone will hurt you,” Titus added. “You are under our protection now.”
Looking from green eyes to blue ones, Adara discovered a kernel of courage and a burning desire to know. To get past the pain in her mind to the truth. “What are we waiting for then?” She jumped up before she lost her newfound resolve.
“Not so quick there, honey. You need to stay here where it’s safe. Titus and I will question the doctor.”
“No. I’m going, too.” The stubborn words surprised her even as they spilled from her mouth. Adara almost flinched when both men fixed their intent gazes on her.
“It will be dangerous,” said Titus in a soothing tone.
“I don’t care. This is my life, and I’m tired of not having a say or any control.”
“I won’t see you in harm’s way!” Logan stood and towered over her. Adara unconsciously moved back from him into Titus, who curled a protective arm around her. A cool steadiness flowed from him to her.
“She’s right.” Titus took her side. “Imagine if it were you searching for answers, would you want to be left behind?”
“No,” replied Logan tersely. “But she’s fragile. What if she gets hurt?”
Adara’s lips curved into a small smile. “Like you’d let that happen.” Funny, but as soon as she said it, she knew it was true. She trusted Logan to protect her, and perhaps even Titus, for that matter, but a faint voice in the back of her mind snorted and said, I don’t need a man to take care of me. I can do it myself. Crazy thinking, really. She wasn’t some uber-strong superheroine who could kick butt on her
own. I think.
And yet…in my dreams, dreams that are mostly forgotten, I could swear I am tall, proud, and strong. Was that person truly she? Did she hide within, waiting to emerge?
Only one way to find out.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Once they’d decided to all go on a trip, it didn’t take long to get organized. Logan insisted that they take his truck. Apparently, his vehicle with its bland color and less than luxurious interior would draw less attention than Titus’s Mercedes Benz.
Titus only agreed to it because the front seat accommodated three people, which put Adara near him.
While the dog might have gotten a paw up on him, Titus wasn’t about to throw in his cravat. There was something damned tempting about Adara. Something that drew him and made him want to act in ways he’d never imagined.
Which was why he was currently sitting on a leatherette seat, hand braced on the dash, while Logan raced his truck through side streets to throw off anyone who might try and tail them.
“Zombies don’t drive,” Titus remarked after one particularly hair-raising, sharp turn.
“Yeah, but the necromancer probably does.”
“I highly doubt anyone, even a necromancer, is driving around with a car full of dead bodies.” Titus couldn’t help the dry retort.
“I wouldn’t be so sure of that. I’m stuck between a wolf and a vampire,” mumbled Adara.
“At least you don’t have to worry about me munching on your neck if I get hungry. I prefer to eat other things.” Logan shot her a wink, and Titus could feel her temperature rise.
Which was why he replied with, “Actually, I prefer to nibble on the inner thigh before indulging in dessert.”
And her heart thumped into overdrive.
Titus tossed a triumphant grin over her head at Logan, who scowled as he gripped the wheel.
“We’re here.”
Logan didn’t park in front, or even on the same street as their target. He went two side streets over and mixed his truck among other vehicles, hiding in plain sight. Then came the dilemma of how to approach with stealth.
“It will look kind of weird if we both walk with her, especially since you’re completely overdressed,” Logan remarked.
Titus looked down at his perfectly pressed slacks, dark cashmere sweater, light trench coat, and leather wingtips. “I’m not wearing a tie.”
“But you still look like a yuppie. Whereas, she and I present as the perfect blue-collar couple.”
The logic was sound. Titus still didn’t like it. “In other words, I need to make myself scarce.”
“You don’t have to ditch us, but you should think about doing that mist thing.”
The only good thing that came out of the suggestion was Adara’s gasp as he morphed. “How did he disappear?”
He wasn’t gone. Just transformed. Floating along the ground, a smoky fog that followed near them, he kept an eye on the neighborhood. There wasn’t much to see. Decently tended lawns. Cookie cutter bungalows. With night fallen, no one was outside. Lights illuminated the homes, along with the flickering reflections of televisions inside.
Logan walked with Adara’s hand firmly gripped in his, but she didn’t seem to notice. Her head craned, eyes searching the shadows, trepidation clear.
As much as she showed spurts of bravery, the fear still clung to her, a miasma that she couldn’t quite shake. The more Titus observed her, the more he realized it wasn’t natural. Someone wanted her afraid. Wanted her to forget.
The mystery deepened. He could almost hear the violins playing and crashing as events took an ominous turn. Titus hadn’t felt so alive in ages.
When they turned the corner, Titus knew they neared their destination. He drifted ahead to scout.
The outside of the doctor’s house seemed innocuous enough; however, Titus sensed something amiss. The windows gaped darkly, meaning either the owner was out, asleep—or dead. Why that thought crossed his mind, he didn’t question. Instinct borne of centuries rarely guided him wrong.
He drifted from the front to the back, noting the simple yard with its square stone patio, the rusted chair and table. The grass was long. The back windows also dark.
Not a sound broke the chill evening air. Not even the single bark of a dog.
The stillness pressed down, unnatural and foreboding. He quickly coalesced into his solid form and headed to the side of the home. A carefully aimed rock caught Logan in the arm as he and Adara strolled by.
They quickly turned up the driveway, Logan practically dragging a reluctant Adara, whose eyes were wide and white.
Logan hissed, “What the fuck? I thought we were aiming for subtle.”
“Something is wrong.”
Instantly, Logan went on alert, his nose flaring as the animal within surfaced. He inhaled and closed his eyes, sifting through the scents. “I smell nothing out of place.”
“He has no scent, for he is death.” Adara spoke low with her gaze unfocussed. It drew their attention.
“Do you know what hunts here, Adara?” Titus asked softly.
As her expression returned to normal, her nose wrinkled. “What are you talking about?”
Titus shot a look at Logan, who mouthed, “Told you.” What manner of spell plagued Adara? Or was it something worse than magic? Could she be possessed? While rare, sometimes the spirits of those who died tried to latch themselves to living hosts. But it never lasted long. The soul of the living was always stronger and fought it off.
Titus frowned. Now was not the time to worry about that. The heaviness in the air grew thicker.
“We can get in through the back,” he announced.
“Perhaps we shouldn’t.” Adara held back, chewing her lower lip. “The doctor probably won’t be happy we’ve come to his home. We should make an appointment with his office.”
“Making an appointment would ruin the element of surprise,” said Titus.
“Element of surprise, my ass,” Logan muttered. “What Titus is really saying is that the doctor probably only accepts daytime appointments, which screws him. Hence the surprise nighttime visit.”
“Oh.”
“Fear not, dearest. There are ways to ensure that the doctor doesn’t remember our social call.” Some methods could be more permanent than others.
It took but a moment to snap the lock on the rear patio door and let them in. They stepped into a dark kitchen, a scent in the air hinting at something rancid. Rotten.
“What’s that smell?” Adara whispered, the sound less obvious than that of her frantic breathing. A reminder that, unlike them, she feared the night and what walked in the shadows. Funny, since she accompanied two of the most dangerous predators that hunted man.
“It would seem some food has spoiled.” Titus didn’t need light to see. His eyes were perfectly adapted for darkness, which meant he noted the bowl of fruit on the counter, moldy and well past its freshness date.
He stepped out of the kitchen into a hall, the wolf by his side. They smelled it at the same time: blood.
“Stay with Adara while I check it out,” Titus ordered.
Logan didn’t argue, but he did silence Adara with a finger to his lips when she asked, “What’s wrong?”
In silence, Titus followed the coppery scent trail, not fresh by any means, and discovered a scene of carnage. It seemed someone had paid the doctor a visit before they did. Dr. Samuel Sanchez hung on the wall of his living room, kitchen knives pinning him spread eagle to the wall. The blood, which ran from the numerous wounds on the body, had congealed beneath the corpse, the sickening stench of decay starting to set in. So much for getting answers about Adara from the doctor who’d initially treated her.
A coincidence? Titus didn’t believe in those. It seemed everywhere they turned, people connected to Adara suffered some kind of fatal fate.
But who was behind this? Who was so desperate to hide their tracks that they would sloppily murder?
Perhaps the killer had left a clue about the
mselves behind. Titus knelt as close to the pool of blood as he dared, not wishing to dirty himself. He let his heightened olfactory ability sift the various scents, but the tang of blood overshadowed everything. He opened his inner sense and looked at the body, not expecting to see much of an aura left, but he recoiled at the pulsing black cloud that haloed the victim.
Necromancy. He recognized the dark taint. He’d seen it often in his younger years, and it recognized him. The corpse’s head lifted as magic animated it, the sightless orbs peering at him through milky cataracts.
“Vampire,” it croaked. “You have something I want.”
Playing dumb, Titus asked, “Whatever do you mean?”
A wet chuckle rattled from the animated body. “The girl, of course. Give her up. She is not yours to keep.”
“She’s not mine to give. But I have to ask, why all this interest in a mere slip of a girl?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know. There are forces at work here. Things you should not mess with.”
“Odd you say that because there are many who would say you shouldn’t mess with me.” Titus wasn’t one to pretend at modesty. He’d lived to his ripe old age for a reason.
“You will hand her over!” The raspy voice rose in volume until it shouted. A chill breeze blew through the room. Energy, the esoteric kind, crackled in the air, swirling and coiling into a mass. Not a good sign.
Time to warn Logan and Adara to leave. Titus turned, only to freeze as he saw her framed in the doorway, her face a mask of horror. “You were supposed to keep her in the kitchen,” Titus snapped through a rigid jaw.
The wolf shrugged helplessly. “I thought I heard something in the yard. I went to check it out, and before I knew it, she’d followed you.”
“Who did this?” she asked softly, stepping into the room.
“Doesn’t matter who,” Titus snapped, his unease growing as the air became more charged. “We need to get out now. Quickly. There’s something happening. Something I don’t think any of us wants to see.”
Raucous laughter spilled from the zombie pinned to the wall. “Too late. The Forsaken one shall be mine.”
