by Michele Hauf
“Like me?” Marc cocked a brow. “I’m honored. Or did you mean CeCe?” He turned to the side and mimicked the other male’s earlier posture, crossing his arms over his chest. “Why does he treat her the way he does? With disregard and disrespect?”
The werewolf dropped his arm and leaned forward. His neck was huge, like a bull’s. The veins would be easy to locate, but Marc had no desire to sample the werewolf’s blood, not for the pleasure of the taste at least.
“Pack business isn’t yours.” The werewolf’s breath was hot on Marc’s cheek. He glanced to the side, as if checking to see if the alpha and the others had truly left. “Tell me, did she tell the truth? Did she kill a vampire by herself with her own two hands?” he asked.
Part of Marc wanted to tell him she had, dislodge whatever misplaced belief the wolves obviously had about CeCe, her strengths and weaknesses, but a greater part of him still wanted to keep her safe. Which meant keeping the truth from making its way to the Fringe.
“A wolf, a single female wolf, kill a vampire? Surely you know better than that.” His eyes focused on the other male’s now. Again he laughed.
A line had formed between the werewolf’s brows. At Marc’s laugh, it smoothed. He nodded his head, and he stepped to the side, as if giving Marc permission to proceed. “It’s been long enough. You can go, but keep away from the destined one.”
“Or?”
“Or you may wind up like Russell, with a stake in your chest.”
Apparently feeling that his threat had been properly delivered, the werewolf strode from the alley.
Amused more than annoyed, Marc watched him go. Threats had no impact on him. How could they? He had no pack, no ties. He had nothing to love, nothing to lose.
* * *
CeCe walked beside Karl almost afraid to speak. What had happened back in the alley, her shift moving so quickly she’d barely been aware it was happening, could be seen as a challenge to Karl’s position. No wolf changed that quickly, no wolf except an alpha, and only then if he had a full and strong pack behind him.
But CeCe had no pack behind her. She knew while she was accepted by the pack and guarded by the wolves, it was more as an asset, for her potential in giving the alpha and thus the pack offspring, genetic werewolves. More than one wolf might jump at the chance to call her move a challenge, take her down themselves, if Karl didn’t.
Or worse, she might be accused of having hidden this ability from the pack, be plotting some kind of overthrow.
But overthrow was the furthest thing from CeCe’s plans for herself, and the strangely fast change had surprised her as much as anyone else. She had to make sure Karl knew that.
“Leave,” Karl ordered.
The four had reached CeCe’s motel. Two trucks she recognized as the pack’s were parked outside her room.
The other two wolves walked toward a room a few doors down from hers, and Karl turned to her, waiting.
Not wanting to have whatever conversation was coming in the public parking lot, she pulled the motel key from her pocket and twisted it in the lock.
Once inside, Karl roamed the room, his eyes cataloging everything from her open suitcase to the hairbrush she hadn’t used since before finding Russell.
As Karl walked away, she picked up the brush and shoved it back inside her suitcase.
“We should have the ceremony soon.”
She jerked. “Ceremony?” She’d expected the alpha to ask her about a number of things: her shift, Russell, Marc and the vampire she had killed—the original point of this trip, the treasure. But the mating ceremony tying her to the alpha? It wasn’t a topic she had even considered.
“Things haven’t gone as we planned. It would be best to move forward before the rest of the pack realizes this.”
Before they realized she was not only what many had claimed, a freak, she was also a failure. Not fit to be the alpha’s mate. She shoved her suitcase back. It knocked into the wall with a bang. The hairbrush she had placed inside fell onto the floor. She bent to retrieve it, then held it clenched in her hand.
“I didn’t realize this trip was a trial,” she replied. It was a lie. She had known. Every day since her father had convinced Karl of her assets as a mate had been a trial. The alpha bought what her father was selling, but many of the other werewolves, especially the females, hadn’t.
He lifted one shoulder. “There was no reason for me to tell you.”
“What about Russell?”
“What about him? We’ll wait until day, when we know the vampires aren’t active, then we’ll go into the cave for his body. You don’t need to be involved.”
“What if I want to be?”
“You want to go into a cave?”
She straightened. Karl didn’t know of her training. She’d endured her father’s idea of growth long before she met the alpha, and she had shared the experience with no one. “Why wouldn’t I?” she asked, testing.
He moved toward the bathroom. He emerged with her makeup and toiletries gathered in his hands. Her shampoo and conditioner were fresh from the shower. Still wet even though it had been over a day since she had used them. Water dripped on the floor behind Karl.
She felt each drip hit.
“Why would you?” he asked.
She bit her lip and forced calm onto her face. “I found Russell and I put him in that cave. I know where it is, know how I left him. I should be there when he comes back out.” And she liked Russell, valued him, if not as a friend, as one of the few wolves who seemed to respect her as something other than the alpha’s destined mate.
“We can find the cave without you. You can go back to the pack, get ready for the ceremony.” Karl dumped her toiletries, water and all, into her suitcase.
“No.”
Karl’s head jerked toward her.
She covered her emotions by pulling the wet shampoo and conditioner bottles from atop her clothing and wiping them dry on her shirt. “If they are in there too long, things could mold,” she offered.
“It’s a two-hour drive.”
A flat fact. No room for argument. The alpha pulled his shoulders back and stared at her.
She could feel him pulling on the power of the pack. The draw was slight, subtle, a warning, nothing more, but a move that in the past would have sent her scurrying to the parking lot with her bag in her hand.
But this time CeCe wasn’t willing to give up the fight, not this easily. She placed the dry bottles on the dresser top beside the suitcase. Then she set the hairbrush beside them too. The three lined up like good little soldiers, awaiting their fates.
She turned her back on them.
“I started this. I want to finish it. I want to find the treasure and Russell’s killer,” she said.
Karl’s gaze glimmered. For a second she thought he might force her, but that wasn’t the alpha’s way. Karl might reprimand with force, like the backhand he had delivered earlier, but he led with will.
CeCe, however, had never so openly defied Karl’s will. She had angered him and been punished, but when asked to do something, no matter how distasteful, she had always complied. She had always known her place.
So, despite what she knew of Karl, she had no way of knowing exactly how he would react to her open stance against his orders. She dropped her gaze from his face to his chest. Let him know any challenge was unintentional.
He shoved his hands into the front pockets of his jeans and rolled back onto his heels. “Tell me your plan.”
CeCe took a step back and bumped into the dresser behind her. The alpha had never asked to hear her ideas before, and quite honestly, now that he had, she had no idea what to tell him.
She licked her lips, searching inside herself for an answer, and as she stared into the alpha’s steely gaze, she came face-to-face with the fa
ct that she had no plan, nothing she wanted...except to stay here, near Marc.
Chapter 15
After waiting a few minutes to assure himself that the werewolf wouldn’t return, Marc jumped on top of the Dumpster and grabbed hold of a drainage pipe that ran along the side of the building. Using the pipe and his upper body strength, he flipped himself onto the roof.
He landed lightly, like a cat. Then, silent as a feline, he padded to where he had left the vampire’s body.
He’d been in the process of disposing of the corpse when he’d heard CeCe in the street, talking with her pack. Her rather obvious warning that the wolves had arrived had cut off his investigation. Now, he needed to complete his analysis, remove anything that might identify the remains and most importantly strip away any and everything that wouldn’t, come morning, disintegrate into ash.
That part of the vampire myth was true. No matter the age, once life was removed from a vampire’s body, contact with the sun would turn his remains to nothing but an innocuous pile of ash.
He started with the vampire’s mouth and his silver-capped fangs.
After removing the distasteful weapons, Marc rolled them over his palm with his thumb. He hadn’t seen a pair in years and unless he missed his guess this pair dated to even before the war. The silver was old and hand-beaten, and someone had bent them to fit more tightly.
The vampire lying dead on the roof, Marc guessed. The caps were not one-size-fits-all. Marc slipped the caps back onto the vampire’s fangs. They fit, but it was easy to see that his guess was correct. Wherever the vampire had gotten the weapons, they had not originally been made for him.
Marc paused. Van Bom had said weapons from the war had been stored away—with the stake that the werewolves had feared.
What else had been stored there? Perhaps the two coins that the human Porter had allowed to be photographed? Was the treasure Marc had been sent to find no treasure at all, but a stash of weapons? If so, why hadn’t Marc been told?
The questions slithered around his mind. There was, he decided, much more to this story than he had guessed...and this vampire was proof of it. He’d said something about carrying out orders. Whose? And for what?
Marc didn’t like mysteries, but he liked the feeling that he was being used even less.
Another call to the Fringe was necessary. Perhaps this time Andre, his usual contact, would answer.
He pulled the caps off the vampire’s fangs and rolled them over his palm again. Finally, he closed his fingers over them and slipped them into his pocket. Then he patted the dead vamp down. His back pocket revealed a surprise—another set of silver handcuffs.
Two sets of the cuffs in as many days.
Marc was not a big believer in coincidences. With a grimace, he shoved the set into his own pocket and finished checking the body. The vampire carried very little else, not even a cell phone or keys. After logging the information away, he stripped the vampire of his clothing and dragged him to a spot where the first rays of morning sun would be sure to find him.
Finally, with the vampire’s personal items under his arm, he leaped from the roof.
He could leave the clothing in a Dumpster and head back to his motel, where he could contact Andre.
Or he could search out the werewolves. Search out CeCe. See if the alpha was with her; see what exactly being a destined mate meant.
Before his feet hit the ground, he knew where he was going, what his choice would be.
The Fringe could wait.
A quick trip to replace his shirt, and he would be headed to CeCe’s motel.
* * *
CeCe placed her palm on the dresser behind her. Karl had asked for her plan; she needed to give him one. “You and the others leave. I’ll stay and watch the vampire. He won’t consider me a threat. He’ll let his guard down.” She said the words with confidence, hoped they sounded that way to Karl.
“And what? Lead you to the treasure? To evidence that he killed Russell? You have the stake and we will get the vampire. That will be enough.”
It wasn’t enough, because Marc didn’t kill Russell, but she was past arguing the point with Karl. She’d faced that he would never accept Marc’s innocence, not until she brought him the real killer, whoever that might be.
“And what about the treasure? That’s why we came here in the first place.”
Karl didn’t answer; he paced to the side instead. “The stake. You do have it, don’t you?”
“Yes, it’s—” She turned, ready to motion to where she had hidden it inside her mattress, but the alpha closed his eyes and fisted his hands. His knuckles turned white. Stress showed in the lines around his eyes.
“You have it. That’s enough for now. We will need it later, to prove the vampire was involved.”
The stake. It was, in Karl’s view, the major piece of evidence tying Marc to Russell’s murder. She realized then she could move it....
She looked up. Karl was staring at her. “When you removed it, how did you touch it?”
“I used my shirt as a glove. I was careful not to destroy any evidence.” And if there was evidence she couldn’t see or smell... “Can we take it to a lab? There might be something on it. DNA.”
“DNA?” His frame stiffened. “No. It’s pack business, not human business.”
“But surely, someone—”
“No.” He growled. If he’d been in his wolf form, his hackles would have raised.
CeCe stepped back. The pack had connections, resources. And werewolves held all kinds of positions. Somewhere there had to be a wolf who could get the stake analyzed without raising suspicions, but Karl’s expression was firm. There would be no arguing with him.
“What about the others?” she asked.
“What others?” The alpha ran a hand through his hair. His fingers shook. CeCe stared at them, sure she was seeing wrong.
“The vampires. They won’t just stand by and let us take one of their kind. It won’t be that simple. It could be war.”
“It could.” The lines around Karl’s eyes had deepened. He looked older, tired. “But what about Russell? A killer has to be named and punished.”
Not found. Named.
“If more vampires arrive...” He spun, thinking.
“If I can tie the vampire that I killed to Russell?” she prompted. “The pack would be satisfied.” And Marc would be safe.
“We need a body.”
“I’ll find it.” She could, she just had to convince Marc to take her to it. “The new vampire must have hidden it. I can follow him. As I said before, he thinks I’m weak.”
“But you aren’t.” Not a question, a statement. As if suddenly Karl saw her differently.
He tilted his head and studied her. “What happened to the body?”
“I...” She’d left it with Marc, but she couldn’t say that. “I don’t know. I left it in the alley. When we came back, it was gone.” That at least was true.
“So, there were two vampires here.” He sighed. “They’re after it.”
“The treasure?” She already knew Marc was here for the treasure.
Surprise shone in his eyes, but only for an instant. “Yes, the treasure.”
“I can find it.” She’d been sent to find the treasure. She could still find it and Russell’s killer. She just needed more time.
“Maybe.” Karl paced around the room. He stopped by the door, suddenly, as if he’d just made a decision. “The treasure isn’t important, not any more. We stick with my original plan. Tie the vampire we have to the stake and Russell.”
Frame Marc.
“Can you do that?”
Her world blurred at the edges.
“CeCe, can you do that?” Karl stood by the door, his hand on the doorknob.
Slow
ly, her head nodded. The movement felt distant and odd. As if she wasn’t in control of it.
“CeCe, you didn’t touch it?”
“What?”
“The stake. You’re sure you didn’t touch it?”
“No, I didn’t touch it.”
“Don’t.” He held up two fingers. “You have two days.” Then he reached up and pulled something over his head—a chain. No, the chain of the destined mate. He dropped it over her head. The medal hung low between her breasts.
He grabbed her by the shoulders, pulled her toward him and pressed a kiss against her lips. “Two days, then you return to the pack.”
And with that, he left.
CeCe pushed the door shut behind him and stood with her palm flat against the wood.
She touched her lips.
Karl had made it official. Had made his claim. Soon her position would be more than destined; it would be real.
And if everything went as Karl planned, by the time the vows were spoken, Marc would be dead.
* * *
The alpha was inside the room with CeCe. Marc had seen him walk past the window and, as if sensing Marc’s presence, peer out. Hidden in the upper branches of an older oak tree, Marc had no fear the werewolf had spotted him, and he doubted that, from inside the room, even the wolf’s senses were strong enough to smell the vampire outside.
So, Marc crouched and watched, wished he dared sneak closer. But standing outside the door would only make it easy for the wolf or another pack member to discover him.
It had been an hour. The sky was turning gray.
Marc pulled a pair of sunglasses and his hat from his pocket.
Neither the alpha nor CeCe had walked past the window for the past ten minutes. He itched to be closer, to know what was going on inside the room. Were they arguing? Sleeping? Something else?
His fangs pricked his lower lip. He brushed the resulting beads of blood aside with his tongue, and forced his mind to concentrate.
He’d sat like this for days before, watching and waiting, not moving, but it had never been as difficult as this.
