The Beta

by Annie Nicholas

  Back Cover Copy

  Three days of hell, in charge, and running out of antacids.

  As the pack’s Beta, Robert needs to watch over the Vasi werewolf pack for a few days. He hates the responsibility, but his job is to dissolve any problems while his Alpha honeymoons. Nevertheless, trouble comes to town and her name is Esther. She’s beguiling, beautiful and picks his pocket. Although Robert doesn’t trust her, he still wants to possess her.

  Esther arrived in Chicago with the intention of slaying a vampire named Daedalus. While trailing her quarry, she encounters Robert who unhinges her world. He doesn’t know her trade, and she doesn’t know his connection to the vampire. Disturbed by her attraction to this unusual werewolf, she can’t decide which prey to hunt—the one who’s stolen her heart or the one who’ll fill her bank account.

  Content Warning: Hot graphic werewolf sex, growing body parts, and one pissed off Nosferatu vampire.

  Highlight

  “This is my place.” Esther lied with the ease of an expert.

  “All right.” Robert shoved his hands deeper in his front pockets as if not sure what to do with them. “It was nice meeting you, Esther.” His gaze flickered to hers, and he cleared his throat. “Would you like to have dinner sometime?”

  The innocent anxiety of his request melted her to the spot. In her profession the men she got acquainted with were arrogant sons of bitches. “I’d like that.” The answer came out before she knew it, but at least it rung with honesty. Something she didn’t hear often enough.

  He grinned, relief awash on his expression, and took out his cellphone. “Give me your number and I’ll call you to make plans.”

  Torn, her heart fluttered in a small flight of frenzy. She wanted to see him again, but knew she could never offer what he deserved. Smiling, she gave him a fake number. Better for him if he never got to know her, but she wanted one more thing before they parted. She stepped closer. “Won’t you kiss me goodbye?”

  The Beta

  9781616502126

  Copyright © 2011, Annie Nicholas

  Edited by Pamela Tyner

  Book design by Lyrical Press, Inc.

  Cover Art by Renee Rocco

  First Lyrical Press, Inc. electronic publication: May, 2011

  Lyrical Press, Incorporated

  17 Ludlow Street

  Staten Island, New York 10312

  http://www.lyricalpress.com

  eBooks are not transferable. All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded or distributed via the Internet or any other means, electronic or print, without the publisher’s permission.

  PUBLISHER'S NOTE:

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party Web sites or their content.

  Published in the United States of America by Lyrical Press, Incorporated

  Table of Contents

  Back Cover Copy

  Highlight

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Acknowledgements

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  About Annie Nicholas

  About the Vanguards Series

  More From Lyrical Press

  Dedication

  To my husband and sons for their patience when I disappear into my writing cave.

  Acknowledgements

  To Rebecca Royce and Hailey Edwards for brainstorming with me and holding my hand when I needed it.

  Chapter 1

  Competent leadership went hand-in-hand with confidence. Tonight, Robert couldn’t find either. The alpha of the Vasi werewolf pack had left Chicago on his honeymoon, which placed Robert, his beta, in charge.

  The weight of responsibility crushed him like a big, fat elephant. His goal to keep the pack intact seemed jinxed.

  He folded his eyeglasses and placed them in a case, tucking it in his back pocket. If they broke it wouldn’t be a big deal. They weren’t prescription anymore. Becoming a werewolf cured his eyesight. He just wore them out of habit, like a safety blanket.

  Before knocking on the apartment door, he took a deep, shaky breath, and prayed it wouldn’t be his last. Burgundy paint cracked and flaked when his knuckles rapped the door.

  “What?” a deep voice barked from the other side.

  He hated this part of his duties to the pack. It blowed. Why Eric, his alpha, insisted on making him beta was beyond him. Even Daedalus, their vampire trainer, appeared doubtful about the decision. Robert agreed with him. He sucked at confrontation, didn’t like people in general, and preferred computer linguistics over speaking.

  Glaring at the door, he restrained his beast who didn’t like being pushed into this situation anymore than he did. “Let me in, Talon.” A thug’s name suited him.

  The door cracked open, and a set of dark brown eyes challenged him through a veil of unwashed hair. Talon’s beast had too much control over him. Shifters like him gave their race a bad name. “What’s the problem, Bob?”

  A growl rumbled in Robert’s chest at the jibe. “It’s Robert, or do you want me to start addressing you by your given name, Timothy?”

  Pulling the door open, Talon loomed over him. “You can address me any way you want, asshole, but I ain’t responsible for my actions.”

  This type of macho posturing was why Robert left his old pack before finding the Vasi. He didn’t have time to waste on pieces of shit like Talon and couldn’t care less about werewolf hierarchy. “Actually, that’s why I’m here.”

  Robert’s teeth elongated just enough to indicate deadly intent, then he jumped the brute, going straight for the idiot’s jugular. He bit Talon’s flesh hard, not piercing the skin, and they landed on the apartment’s carpeted floor. The scent of stale cigarette smoke permeated from its fibers, making Robert want to gag.

  Preferring to remain mostly in his human form, Robert had learned, with a ton of painful practice, to allow his beast’s development in concentrated parts of his body instead of all at once. Now he could grow his claws, teeth, or other things at will. It took concentration and exquisite control to accomplish it. As far as he knew, no other Vasi had this ability.

  “So.” He let the word roll in his chest as he spoke around a mouthful of Talon’s flesh.

  His prey didn’t struggle, which surprised the hell out of him. He expected…more. But despite the lack of resistance, the smell of fury poured from Talon.

  Placing a knee on the thug’s sternum, Robert pressed his one hundred and sixty pound frame on him as he allowed his claws to grow and rest under Talon’s eye. He released his grip on the idiot’s throat. “Rumors are racing through the pack. I thought I’d get the truth from the source.”

  Three more days, he only had to keep things together for three more freaking days before Eric and Spice got home.

  When Eric won the alpha’s challenge two years ago, Robert thought their problems were over, but they’d only just begun. Thank God, Spice showed up at their doorstep and mated with Eric. The pack needed a strong alpha co
uple to pull it out of the depravity it had fallen into with the old alpha.

  Chicago’s werewolves had grown and matured under their nurturing guidance. They’d chased off most of the troublemakers and supported the weak, but a few issues remained, like Talon.

  “Some concerned pack mates called me.” Sweat trickled down Robert’s back as he ground his knee into Talon’s chest. The jerk might be playing nice now, but Robert expected to leave here with quite a few bruises if not worse. “They’re worried you’re going to try something stupid.”

  Movement in the window across the room caught Robert’s attention.

  Daedalus stood outside on the ledge of the third-story apartment. He gave Robert a thumbs-up then leaned against the frame as if watching a show.

  Talon shifted under Robert’s weight and threw him off balance. Landing on his side, he rolled with the force and got to his feet. Years of training with Daedalus, the Nosferatu vampire warrior who surveyed the fight, kicked in.

  As his opponent charged, Robert’s heart raced with anticipation. When Talon’s hands reached for him, he twisted out of his way, grabbed his adversary’s head and used the momentum to slam it in the wall.

  The plaster cracked and dented inward. Sliding to the floor, Talon lay still.

  Robert stumbled back, waiting for retaliation, but his assailant didn’t move. Talon’s chest rose as Robert flipped him over, but his eyes remained rolled back in his head. Robert blinked. Talon was unconscious? He’d won that easily?

  Yes! He pumped his arm in victory. All those antacids he’d popped this afternoon were for nothing. His first unofficial challenge, and he ruled.

  A tap at the window reminded him of his audience. Heat rose in his cheeks, and he dragged his gaze to his vampire trainer.

  Daedalus gestured to open the window, so he scurried over to comply.

  “Did you kill him?”

  “No.” Robert glanced at Talon’s supine body.

  “You’re within your rights. Your pack mates heard him say he was going to attack you.” Daedalus squeezed his six-foot frame through the opening into the apartment. “What a dump.”

  “Killing won’t solve my problems. I need to earn the pack’s respect so no one will think to challenge me again, but not this way. Not to mention, killing is illegal.” The idea of murder turned his stomach, though it appealed to his beast. Good thing he always maintained strict control and not the other way around. Too bad he couldn’t say the same for Talon.

  Some pack members held poor dominance over their inner beast, losing too much of their humanity as the animal took more and more control of their personality. Some poor souls lost it all and became nothing but animals needing to be put down. The old alpha allowed terrible things like this to happen, which had left the pack a mess.

  “In some instances killing is necessary.” Daedalus crossed the room, baring his fangs as he crouched next to Talon.

  Robert’s soul shriveled at the sight. “Don’t.” Could he fight the vampire and defend his helpless, yet stupid, pack mate? Sure, but he’d lose.

  Daedalus was a gazillion-year-old vampire warrior who thought tossing him around the practice mat taught good fighting skills. After the way Robert just defeated Talon maybe the vampire really knew how to teach. Didn’t mean Robert could defeat his instructor.

  Daedalus paused. “It’s a mistake to let him live. He’ll come after you again. Creatures like Talon always do.”

  Hanging his head, Robert played with the temptation. Only three more days, then these kinds of decisions went back on his alpha’s shoulders. “Let him be. I’ll deal with it if he didn’t learn his lesson tonight.”

  Disappointment passed over Daedalus’s face. Robert hoped it was because of a missed meal and not his decision. He and the vampire were far from best friends, but he did respect the bastard’s opinion.

  “Let’s go,” Robert said. “I’m sure there’s still time to find a nice juicy evil-doer before sunrise for you to snack on.” He left the apartment and heard Daedalus close the door as he followed.

  “You did well tonight.” Daedalus slapped his back so hard it rattled his molars. “There’s an alpha in you. I knew it. We’ll schedule more sparing time together. Hone your reflexes and increase the speed of your attacks.” The Nosferatu eyed Robert’s shoulders and arms. “Maybe add some bulk with more weight training.”

  “I don’t think—”

  Daedalus waved and ran ahead. “I’ll see you tomorrow night, buddy.”

  “—that’s necessary.” God, they were buddies now? He sighed. Crap and a truckload of it. He had no desire to get molded into an alpha. He wasn’t thrilled at being the Vasi’s beta. More sparring time meant more bruises.

  He descended the stairs out of Talon’s apartment building and exited onto the sidewalk. At this time of the night, traffic trickled one car at a time. The neighborhood left much to be desired, and he had parked his car blocks from here to avoid any theft. Muggers were welcomed to try him though. If he had to, he’d bust out his beast in an emergency.

  Paranormal races were legal citizens, after all, but they still needed to be discreet. Occasionally a pitchfork-and-torch-wielding mob formed, so the Vasi tried to stay low-key. They didn’t need bad publicity.

  * * * *

  Esther Longfellow watched her mark climb through the third-story window of the red brick apartment building across the street. The vampire had used his fingertips placed in the mortar joints to scale the wall. He did it with such ease, her stomach went queasy. After sitting on the sill for a few minutes, Daedalus crawled inside. His friend had entered the building by the fucking door earlier. What were they doing?

  She’d hunted vampires for years, but never from the Nosferatu clan. No one ever had until this contract came out. The payment offered too many zeros to ignore. But she wasn’t stupid enough to sign anything until she’d assessed the situation. The dead couldn’t spend money.

  Her heart had seized earlier when out of nowhere the vampire had passed her on the street after she’d parked her car. What a lucky break. She’d followed him and his friend from a distance to a decrepit apartment building, then ducked into the alley across the street.

  The Nosferatu didn’t even try to hide his origins. Bald head, exposed pointed ears curling on each side, and a flash of fang as he’d spoken to the thin young man next to him. It had to be Daedalus. She doubted Chicago could house more than one Nosferatu vampire. They were very territorial.

  Crouching in the alley across from the apartments, she aimed her digital camera and zoomed the night vision on the vampire as he exited through the front door. No doubt about it, he matched the pictures in her file. Why did he go in through a window and out the door? What evil deed was he up to?

  She took a deep, calming breath, squashing her excitement. Now wasn’t the time to attack. Her bag of tricks sat in the trunk of her car and she couldn’t focus after being mentally shaken from the lucky encounter. She respected what she hunted. A fan of the paranormal, her secret obsession made her a formidable slayer. She didn’t want them all destroyed, only the troublemakers, the evil-doers, the murderers.

  And Daedalus liked to kill.

  This takedown would need a lot of preparation, two of them being a quick getaway and a comfortable hole to hide in for the remainder of her life. The Nosferatu clan was a vengeful lot.

  If she succeeded in slaying a Prime from this clan, they’d write her name in the slayer’s history book. She grinned. Legally, what she did for a living was considered murder but in her book she served justice.

  Watching him disappear down the block, she leaned against the alley wall. She couldn’t risk following him anymore. Lacking information, she needed to do some more research like finding out where he rested during the day. She hadn’t become successful by being unprepared. The challenge of this contract got her blood pumping.

  Another man exited the building not long after. He wore a rumpled button-down, short-sleeved shirt tucked into loose jeans
. His mouse brown hair cried for a cut and a comb.

  He pushed his glasses up his nose and bent to tie his running shoes.

  Recognizing him as the person who had accompanied Daedalus earlier, Esther heard opportunity knocking. He didn’t look like a threat being thin and weak. She crossed the street and approached him from behind. “Excuse me. Do you have the time?”

  Glancing over his shoulder, his gaze traveled along her bare legs, to her knee length loose skirt, and finally met her stare. Her breath caught in her throat. The irises of his eyes reflected a non-existent light and shone pale amber. He blinked and it vanished, must have been the glasses that gave such a strange effect.

  He rose in a single fluid motion that set her predator alarm off. Checking his cellphone, he gave her a shy smile. “It’s ten after two.” He scanned the area around them. “This is a dangerous part of town, ma’am. You shouldn’t walk around alone. Trouble is going to find you.”

  Or maybe find him. She eyed his wiry arms and changed her assessment of him. Lean, tight muscles slid under his skin as he moved. He wasn’t weak, more like a cross between a martial artist and a geek.

  “Are you offering to walk me home?” Flashing him her most flirtatious smile, she toyed with a piece of her hair.

  He swallowed. “S-sure.” Shuffling to her side, he fell in next to her, eyes darting around them.

  Men were so easy to manipulate, but this one actually wanted to protect her. So cute, she could have pinched him. Trying to be discreet, she took quick peeks at him. Nice strong chin and straight nose. Maybe a hint of freckles? It was difficult to tell in the dark.

  “I’m Esther.” She held out her hand. What the hell prompted her to use her real name?

  Wrapping a firm hand around hers, he shook it. “I’m Robert.”

  His touch sent tingles along her arm. The name seemed too mature for him. “What are you doing out so late, Rob?” How did such a polite man like him get involved with a Nosferatu? She checked his neck for bites and didn’t see anything, but there were more places on the body to feed from besides the neck. It would be a shame if he was a blood slave.