Alpha Initiation (Alpha Blood #1) (Werewolf Romance)

by Mac Flynn

  "Ugh. You could have warned me about that," I growled at him.

  "Practice is the best teacher," he argued.

  "So I should fire you?"

  "Do you want to learn this on your own?"

  "No. . ."

  "Then I recommend I stay on as your teacher." I cleaned myself up and he grabbed another apple. "Try to slice this one as it flies toward you," he suggested. There was the windup, the toss, and in the blink of an eye my claws swung down on the apple. The fruit was cut to ribbons and I was again covered in its juicy, sticky guts when it flew into my shirt.

  "I'm starting to see a pattern with me and fruit. Maybe we should try something else before I attract flies," I quipped.

  "All right, let's try reversing the process. Return your arm to its human form," he instructed me.

  "So do everything, but in the reverse?"

  "Exactly, and imagining your human hand instead of your wolf paw."

  "I'll try." I closed my eyes and focused on my old hand. Nice, smooth skin that didn't look like it needed a shave. Manicured nails that couldn't cut fruit into snack-size. Fingers that were kind of short and stubby and-

  -not appearing. I didn't feel any of that changing magic happening, so I opened my eyes and saw my still-transformed paw. "Um, something's wrong," I told Luke.

  He raised an eyebrow. "What's wrong?"

  "It's not changing back."

  "You're not trying hard enough."

  "I tried as hard as I did to change it into a claw."

  "Try again."

  I nodded, closed my eyes, rinsed and repeated. I got the same results, but was now a little more panicked. My hand was still as furry, clawed, and definitely not human. "How do I get it off, Luke? It's not coming off!" I yelled in my panicked voice.

  "Becky, you don't get it off. It's your hand," he reminded me. "Also, stay calm. This happens occasionally to those learning to transform."

  "Why didn't you tell me that sooner?"

  "You didn't ask."

  "Don't make me use this clawed hand on you."

  "I would rather you didn't."

  "And I would rather you tell me how to get it back to the hand type I can safely scratch myself with, but right now neither of us are getting what we want."

  "In this situation you only have two choices. Either fully transform or wait until your hand naturally changes back," he told me.

  "But I don't know how to fully transform," I reminded him.

  "And I would rather you not do it inside Sanctuary. Fully transforming is also dangerous in that you could become stuck in the full werewolf form, or go even farther."

  "Even farther?" I repeated.

  "To a complete wolf. It's the risk every werewolf takes when they transform. In that stage the Beast completely takes over and you may never regain your human consciousness."

  "I'm starting to see this whole transforming thing as a curse."

  "It's a responsibility," he corrected me.

  "Responsibility is a curse of adulthood," I replied.

  Luke sighed and stepped up to put his hands on my shoulders. "We'll wait for you to transform back. I'll be very surprised if it hasn't happened in twenty-four hours."

  I cringed. "That long?"

  "That long."

  "Fine, I'll wait, but don't expect me to be happy about it."

  Chapter 23

  That was a long twenty-four hours. I was stuck with a clawed hand, Alistair was unconscious on the bed wrapped like a mummy, and our enemies were out there plotting and planning. Stacy arrived after dinner, or rather with dinner. I was starved for something more than just the survivors of my chopped fruit exercise, and she provided us with meats, but not with any good news. She deposited the food on the table, plopped herself down in a chair and her eyes glanced at my clawed hand. "It looks like I wasn't the only ones with problems this afternoon," she mused.

  "A temporary problem, but what did you learn out there?" Luke asked her.

  Her face grew grim and she shook her head. "I went as far as his scent trail led me and I couldn't sniff out a single smell other than his own."

  Luke forsook the food and stood close by the table. I didn't wait for an invitation before digging in. Transforming was hard work. "Were there any tracks to follow?" he asked her.

  She shook her head. "No, the ground was swept clean of all tracks, even those left by the walkers along the path. Whoever Alistair ran into are very good at covering their activities."

  Luke frowned and strode over to the balcony door. He glanced through the glass out onto the moonlit deck and mountain below us. The sun had set a few hours before, and all was quiet in anticipation for the voting tomorrow morning. "If we only knew what they were planning," he mumbled.

  "If we knew that we'd be able to go to my father while he still retained the position of High Lord," she pointed out. "As it is, we don't have any proof anything suspicious has happened except for what Lance spoke about and Alistair here."

  I paused and frowned in mid-eating. "What did Lance talk about again? Something about stolen gunpowder?"

  "Explosives, to be exact. Of the plastic variety," Luke corrected me.

  A horrible thought drifted into my mind, and I suddenly lost my appetite. "And he said somebody would try to blow this place up?" I squeaked.

  Luke turned to me with a raised eyebrow. "Yes, why?"

  I nodded at Alistair. "What if he found out who took it?" I suggested.

  Luke and Stacy froze, and then they whipped their heads to each other. The looks of horror on their expressions told me I'd hit on an idea. One I wish I hadn't. "Then Lance wasn't lying?" Stacy gasped.

  "Perhaps not as far as we assumed he had been," Luke corrected her.

  I raised my hand. "Can I be excused from this vote tomorrow? I think I hear my bed calling me back at Luke's house."

  "This is no laughing matter," Luke sharply scolded me. "We are dealing with-" -a knock on the door.

  We all glanced at one another, and all of us shrugged in reply. Apparently none of us had ordered a pizza. "Who is it?" Luke called out.

  "A message for an Alistair," came the reply. It was a man's voice, and sounded old and feeble.

  "Written or verbal?" Luke asked him.

  "Written."

  "Slide it under the door."

  "I'm afraid it's too large, sir. It's in an envelope. Can't I hand it to you?" the voice pleaded. Luke growled under his breath and strode to the door. He opened it a crack, but the person on the other side was pushy. The delivery man shoved it open with his shoulder and knocked Luke back onto the floor. The stranger hurriedly stepped into the room, closed the door softly behind himself and pointed the barrel of a muzzled gun at the four of us. He was a wrinkle-faced old man with speckled hands and wore drab clothes two sizes to big for him. Luke raised himself onto his arms, but froze when the barrel turned on him. "The first to move dies," the man warned. His voice had dropped forty years from the tone, and I recognized it from the train station in Wolverton.

  "Alston!" I gasped.

  The man grinned and bowed his head. "I thank you for remembering me, but another word and I will shoot you. I promise these bullets will hurt, they're made from pure silver." We all stiffened, and I tried not to breathe too deeply. Alston strode through us and over to Alistair. He sneered down at the unconscious man. "A bullet would have been more effective than a beating," he mumbled.

  Luke whipped his head around and growled at Alston. "So you're the one who injured him."

  Alston tilted his nose up. "I wouldn't have dirtied my hands with such an impractical method of ridding ones' self of an annoyance, especially not when there are more than enough mindless volunteers to do the deed for us."

  I noticed Luke's hand wrap around something on the floor. "Us? You mean Lance?" Luke asked him.

  Alston chuckled. "This is really too much talking." He aimed the gun at Alistair's head.

  "How do you intend to get away with this?" Luke asked him. "There's three w
itnesses here and your scent-" Luke paused and his nostrils flared.

  Alston grinned from ear to ear. "Neat, isn't it? No scent, so you can accuse me all you want but there won't be any proof."

  Luke scowled and threw something small and sticky at him, one of my leftover fruit slices, and it lodged itself up the barrel of his gun. Alston jerked back in surprise, and Luke took the chance to jump up and lunge toward the assassin. They collided and knocked into the wall beside Alistair's bed. The gun dropped to the floor and was kicked away by their dancing feet as each of them sought to strangle the other one.

  Stacy jumped at the gun while I jumped into the fray. My transformed arm itched to slice and dice Alston, but all I did was knock into Luke's elbow and fall head-first onto Alistair's bed. I rolled over and felt Luke's body shoved down onto me. Alston stood ready to slice Luke's stomach open with his long fingernails when a bullet passed between them and struck the wall.

  All eyes whipped over to Stacy, who stood calm and scowling with the gun clenched between her hands. Her narrowed eyes glared at Alston. "Another step and-" She didn't get to finish her threat because Alston grabbed a pillow and chucked it at her. She whacked it aside, but our uninvited guest turned and let himself out through the balcony door windows. The glass burst around him and rained down on a few drunk people on the deck. They screamed when he slammed down among them half-transformed and rushed off across the wood boards to the edge of the deck. Luke scrambled to his feet and hurried after him onto the balcony. Stacy and I joined him at the balcony railing and we were in time to watch the assassin jump over the deck railing and escape down the slope toward the station platform.

  Luke meant to follow, but before he could hop over the balcony railing Stacy grabbed one arm and I grabbed the other. "Don't you dare!" we scolded in unison.

  "Can't you smell the room? He has no scent, and without a scent to follow he'll have the advantage and kill you for sure!" Stacy told him.

  "What she said!" was my intelligent addition to the debate.

  Luke growled, but stepped back from the railing. There was a commotion out in the hall stemming from our guest's sudden and noisy exit. "Stacy, Becky, move Alistair to our room. We don't want to answer any more questions than we have to," he ordered us. We carefully raised the injured man and hauled him to the bed in Luke and my chamber. It was none too soon because when we closed the adjoining door there was a knock on the entrance to Alistair's door.

  "Who is it?" Luke called out.

  "The Protectors. Is everything all right in there?" Protector Brier's voice replied.

  "Everything is fine, just some trouble with the window glass," Luke lied.

  "We'd like to be the judge of that, now open up," Brier commanded. He had all the tact of a rhino on the warpath. We couldn't do anything but obey, so Luke let them in. Brier and two other Protectors stepped inside and looked around. All three of their pairs of nostrils worked overtime, and the chief's eyes fell on the ruffled bed and the broken window,. "Who occupied this room?" he asked Luke.

  "My manservant, Alistair, but as he isn't feeling well we moved him into my room when the commotion began. The walls there are thicker."

  "What's wrong with him?"

  "Nothing serious, just a touch of something." That was partially true. He'd been touched by a lot of claws and fists.

  "Who was in here a moment ago?" Brier questioned us.

  Luke shrugged. "As you can smell there has been no one else in the room but us," he pointed out.

  "Witnesses below this room paint a different picture. They say someone shot off your balcony and landed among them, then ran into the woods," Brier told us.

  "Witnesses are unreliable, but our noses don't lie. Was there any scent found below the window?" Luke countered.

  Brier's eyes narrowed. "No."

  "Then I can't see how this was nothing more than an accident with the glass."

  "How did it happen?" Brier wondered.

  Luke strode over to me and raised my pawed hand. "Transformation practice that didn't go quite as planned." He was a master at inserting half truths into lies.

  Brier didn't look satisfied with that reply, but he couldn't argue with his sniffer and didn't have any proof to prove our story wrong. The Protector strode up to Luke and they faced off. "Another time and you may slip up with your pretty lies."

  Luke smirked. "I'll be sure to keep them straight," he promised.

  Brier growled and stomped off with his men in tow. He paused in the doorway and glanced over his shoulder. "One last thing. Was the High Lord pleased to see you'd been freed?" he wondered.

  "Very pleased, but he asks that you not mention it around him. He doesn't want anyone to know he favored us," Luke replied. Brier gave us one last glare before he left the room. Luke happily shut it behind him and slumped his back against the entrance. "Quite a lovely fellow," he quipped.

  "And dangerous. He didn't get to be Chief Protector by being careless and stupid," Stacy commented.

  "How did he get the job?" I asked them.

  "Appointed by a vote of the residents of Sanctuary, and that office is less a matter of popularity and more a matter of results," she replied.

  "We have a greater danger to worry about from Lance and his men," Luke argued. He pushed off the door and paced the room. "Alston meant to finish the job tonight, and I don't think it's a coincidence this is the night before the election."

  "So what do you think they're up to? Rigging the thing?" Stacy wondered.

  He shook his head. "I can't be sure, but we'll have to watch the ballot takers in all the region hallways."

  Stacy and I dropped our mouths open. "Isn't that a crap load of places?" I pointed out.

  "I agree with Becky. That's a lot of hallways to monitor, and all at the same time," Stacy added.

  "We'll have Burnbaum and his men help us. You can go speak with them and set that up. They will patrol all the regions but Lance's, and we'll take that one. That way there should be the less likelihood of a brawl," Luke explained to us with the orders directed at Stacy.

  Stacy folded her arms and shook her head. "That still sounds risky, and what are we going to do about Alistair? He may not wake up for another few days."

  "I can watch him," I offered. They both glanced at me, and I shrugged. "I wouldn't know what I'd be looking for with this voting stuff, anyway."

  Luke vehemently shook his head. "You aren't able to protect yourself, much less Alistair."

  I scowled at him and opened my mouth to reply, but a heavy hand fell on me. It was Stacy. "But she has a point," she chimed in. She nodded at the broken glass. "And we might not have to worry about another visit from him. Lance isn't known for his leniency toward failure."

  Luke frowned, but sighed. "Very well, but you are to remain in this room and watch over Alistair. Period."

  Chapter 24

  Early the next morning we all arose, or rather I shuffled off the bed and swayed from side to side dreaming of coffee and donuts. The other two were alert and ready for action. I was ready to collapse back into the soft, comfy sheets. Alistair and I were stuck in Luke and my bedroom, and I was drilled with instructions by Luke. "We won't be gone more than three hours. Do not answer the door except to those you're familiar with and trust," he told me.

  "What if it's another pizza delivery?" I teased. He didn't find it funny.

  "Do not answer the door-"

  "-except if I know them," I finished. "I know, I know. I promise I'll be careful."

  "Hurry up your scolding or we'll be late for the start," Stacy reminded him. "I also told Burnbaum we'd meet him in the lobby before the ballot takers spread out into the wings."

  "Very well." He sighed, turned to me, and put his hands on my shoulders. His eyes bore into mine and the gravity of the situation upped to 6G. "Whatever happens, be safe," he pleaded with me.

  I smiled and grasped his hands in mine. "I'll be fine. You're the one who's going to be in the most danger. Don't let those Lance thugs bea
t you up like Alistair, okay?"

  He grinned and nodded. "I'll try," he promised.

  "All right, love birds, time to break it up," Stacy called to us.

  Luke slipped from my hands and the pair hurried out of the room. I securely shut and locked the door behind them, and turned to my patient. Alistair lay unmoving on the bed as he'd done all night long. I walked over, sat in a chair by his side, and sighed. This was going to be a long day.

  Or actually it wasn't. I dozed off a few minutes after Luke and Stacy left and didn't wake up until ten, two hours into the voting period. I heard a rustling noise, cracked open my eyes, and screamed. Alistair was sitting up in the bed with his face pointed straight ahead and his eyes unblinking. I expected him to start muttering something about brains, but at my scream he whipped his head to me and blinked. "What happened?" he asked me.

  I clutched at my heart and gasped for air. "Y-you were beat up by someone-"

  "It was Lance's man, Alston," Alistair told me.

  "-and Stacy found you and brought you here," I finished.

  "How long have I been unconscious?"

  "About a day." There was a commotion out in the hall as a discussion changed into a brawl. "And you're just in time to vote."

  Alistair's eyes widened. "The vote day!" He moved to stand, but I put my hands on his shoulders to keep him from rising.

  "Oh no you don't. You're in no condition to-" He grabbed the chest bandages in one hand and tore them off to reveal perfectly healthy skin. "Or maybe you are."

  "I must warn Luke right away about the danger. Alston may try again-" he insisted.

  "He did last night. Alston ended up leaving through the balcony window in your room," I told him. "Besides, I don't know where Luke went. He and Stacy were going to check out the voting with Burnbaum to make sure everything was legal."

  Alistair frowned, and brushed off my hands. "That is exactly why I must find him. I will follow his scent."

  "Then I'll go with you," I offered.