fate of the alpha - episode 1

by Tasha Black

  “Right,” she said. “We’re in a crime scene.”

  “I thought she just fell.”

  “Sorry. I don’t know what came over me,” she lied. “I guess adrenaline does strange things to you. I really do need to go. We’ll catch up another night, Landon. And thanks for the ride.”

  By the time she had finished speaking she was at the door. Dylan met her on the front steps.

  “I didn’t find anything outside,” he said.

  “Can you secure the house? I need to call Dale.”

  “Sure.”

  She was halfway up Princeton before she heard Landon’s car start.

  CHAPTER 3

  J ulian Magie held his post in the window of the old stone cottage.

  Motes of dust danced past him, but his eyes were turned inward. Allowing himself only one slow and even breath every sixty seconds, Julian drew his consciousness deep into himself. He compressed it into a tiny shimmering ball, no larger than the period at the end of a sentence. Then he allowed it to slowly expand into his whole self, the abandoned stone cottage, the overgrown front garden, the ghostly neighborhood, the town, the country, the world, the past and the future, before drawing it back into himself with his next breath.

  Passing the time in this way was his age-old habit. He did it in the same way most people seemed to check their phones or worry their keys.

  He sensed Ainsley’s approach.

  She was late, but unhurried. Her new role as alpha had changed so much about her, even her timeliness. Their brief fling couldn’t have ended more definitively. Julian was beginning to question why he was still fascinated.

  He didn’t allow the question to disturb him. Instead he permitted his breathing and heart rate to float back to their normal pace.

  Muttering a simple spell of silence, Julian stepped through the open door to the porch and paused for his eyes to adjust to the sunlight and take in the surroundings.

  Julian had come to Tarker’s Hollow a few months ago as a visiting Russian Lit professor, in order to work more closely with Ainsley’s father. But when he’d heard the unlikely story of this little neighborhood, he had to see it for himself.

  The houses on the street had been abandoned nine years ago in preparation for the highway to come through. While the greater community fretted, stormed and ultimately waged court battles over the coming of the interstate, the owners of two ear-marked cul-de-sacs in the tiny Sycamore Woods neighborhood quietly accepted eminent domain checks for more than their homes were worth. They moved to larger houses or downsized to the condos in town as they would have done one day anyway.

  Now nature was reclaiming the stone cottages. The macadam of the cul-de-sac was cracked and sprouting wild flowers. Pine trees had begun to grow all over the lawns. Fingers of ivy on the stone walls reached up toward roofs that were frosted in soft green moss.

  One owner had made the unlikely choice to have his home transported to another location. The gaping foundation in the middle of the block was full of water and gave the appearance of a missing tooth.

  The process of secondary succession at work so near the heart of a living town fascinated Julian.

  It was also a perfect place to begin Ainsley’s education in magic.

  She stood in the middle of what used to be the street, staring at her telephone now in the most pedestrian way - mouth set in a narrow line and a furrowed brow. Julian hated to see her killing time by drugging her mind with the numbing screen of the masses.

  He started towards her. The plan was ambush. This, he hoped, would gain her interest.

  Ainsley was pulled in so many directions now. She was smart and determined enough to be good at almost anything she’d ever tried. But for some reason, her magic training failed to make much progress.

  He assumed this was why she never seemed truly engaged in its study.

  Or maybe it was just that she could turn into a wolf the size of a small donkey and demolish her enemies that way. Most of them at least.

  Hopefully, his little demonstration would capture her enthusiasm when he caught her unawares.

  As he lifted his hands and prepared to shove her with a shockwave spell, she spun around and stepped neatly aside.

  “If you want to sneak up on me, you’ll have to be more than just silent. I could smell you two blocks away.”

  “Oh dear,” he said. “Are you suggesting a shower is in order?”

  “No, but you should have that mole checked out - I smell something serious.”

  “What?”

  “Kidding! I’m kidding, Julian!”

  It was a terrible joke, but he was so pleased to hear her laugh that he laughed too.

  The sound of it was swallowed by the pines. Somewhere on the other side of them, her mate was barking orders and digging up dirt. One day, when he was finished, this magical place would be gone.

  Julian tried not to mind too much. They had work to do.

  “Alright, well, we have a couple of hours today so we may be able to accomplish great things.”

  She winced.

  “Do we not have a couple of hours?”

  “There were strange wolf tracks in the college woods this morning. Erik says the alpha should be accompanied after dark until we sort it out.”

  “So what’s the problem? Can’t Cressida come for you?”

  “I don’t like anyone else here when I work on magic.”

  Ah. She did have an image to uphold.

  “So you need to leave before dark.”

  She nodded. Julian was glad to have her to himself, even if he had less of her.

  “Fine then. Let’s head to Happy’s backyard.”

  They had named the houses on this street after the seven dwarves. It felt appropriate and at any rate, it was easier than trying to find street numbers in the overgrowth.

  Happy was aptly named. Set on the largest lot in the neighborhood, Happy’s property included the remnants of an old grape arbor swaying behind the curve of a kidney shaped swimming pool. Frogs lounged on the brick patio, which overlooked what had once been an enormous backyard with a vegetable garden around the perimeter. It was now more of a meadow. But there were still dozens of pumpkins, swelling comfortably in the deep grass, fertilized by the carcasses of their departed brethren.

  Julian had placed an old Coke bottle from the faded green recycling bin on top of a stump in the middle of the tall grass.

  “Old fashioned target practice, eh?” Ainsley asked.

  “Precisely. I thought we could work on some evocation.”

  “I can’t believe it. Tell me more.”

  “Sarcasm noted. Can we get to work?”

  Ainsley’s lips quirked up in a half smile, in spite of herself, though she didn’t answer.

  “Let’s begin.”

  He looked at her expectantly and she rewarded him with the view of her lush breasts swelling out as she obediently took a deep breath.

  As she exhaled, she lifted her palms up.

  A tiny glimmer of blue electricity arced from one palm to the other.

  She looked up at him, hazel eyes flashing with triumph and he felt his heart ache a little. Her skills should have been well past this stage of development. Unlike Ainsley, Julian knew exactly what type of dark forces were gathering in Tarker’s Hollow. He also knew that she was nowhere near being prepared to face them.

  “Good girl. Now bigger.”

  Her eyes took on a flinty quality, but the blue light between her palms remained stubbornly pixieish.

  “Breathe, Ainsley.”

  Her lips formed an “o” as she carefully released a breath.

  The energy in her hands expanded and took on a warmer quality. It had the girth and sparkle of water coming out of a drinking fountain, but was a brilliant topaz blue.

  “Lovely. Keep it just that way.”

  Ainsley continued her measured breaths.

  She would never have been able to do this a month ago. He loved the earnest way she studied the energy,
but was concerned at the way she still looked at it like it was something foreign to her. As though he had just handed her a newborn and she was afraid to drop it.

  “Now, I want you to knock that bottle over with it.”

  The moment her eyes went to the stump the light dimmed slightly.

  “How?”

  “Project it.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Envision it and compel it.”

  Julian lifted his own hand. A kernel of blue light curled into his open palm almost before he consciously evoked it.

  Gazing at Ainsley to make sure he had her attention, he willed it to the stump.

  It sailed across the grass and pinged against the bottle delicately, knocking it neatly into the pumpkin patch.

  “Wow.”

  Julian grinned and jogged over to retrieve it.

  “Your turn.”

  Ainsley closed her eyes and drew in a careful breath. She opened her eyes and exhaled, concentrating on the stump.

  The blue light in her hands hopped and spluttered out.

  “Fuck.”

  “Calmly, Ainsley. Again.”

  She pursed her lips, and took in another steady breath.

  But this time the light between her palms was thin and reedy.

  “Release your emotions. Breathe.”

  A fraction of the tension left her face.

  Immediately, the energy swelled.

  “Now look at the bottle.”

  This time when she looked up, the energy continued to flow merrily between her palms.

  “Brilliant! Now project.”

  He watched proudly as her light sprung gamely toward the bottle.

  It wasn’t enough to knock the bottle over, but it did manage to wiggle it slightly before faltering and flickering out.

  “Ainsley, well done!”

  She turned to him with fire in her eyes.

  “That wasn’t well done. I’m not good at this. My pack needs me, and there aren’t enough hours in the day as it is. I don’t know why I’m here.”

  He knew he should tell her more about the nature of the magic she would be facing, but he feared the truth would do more harm than good. She could barely concentrate as it was. If she knew how powerful her enemies really were, she might freeze up completely.

  That wouldn’t do at all.

  “You need this, Ainsley. And you will be good at it. Have you been meditating like we discussed?”

  “I don’t have time to meditate,” she said, obviously exasperated. “Every minute of my day is scheduled.”

  “Then schedule time for meditation,” he suggested. “If you won’t meditate, you’ll have to pay it forward some other way. Give up sugar and caffeine, give up… mating, sacrifice something, or the magic won’t always work. And when it does work, it will take something from you and you won’t get to choose what.”

  “Are you seriously telling me not to have sex?”

  Her eyes blazed and her dark hair danced wildly in the breeze. Regretfully, Julian noticed that she had probably never looked more desirable. On the other hand, she had become so wild. There was no trace of the glorious restraint that had drawn him to her before. A disappointment. But he supposed the poet was right, Nothing gold can stay.

  “No, I’m asking you to meditate,” he said wearily.

  “I’m a wolf, Julian. I beat out the biggest wolf the town had to offer. What’s coming that’s so bad I can’t handle without learning more magic?”

  He tried to dodge her question.

  “Being a wolf isn’t enough when you’re up against the kind of magic in your father’s book, Ainsley. You know that already. Remember when I stopped you from shifting?”

  “Remember when I blasted your ass out the window two seconds later?”

  Julian remembered all too well. She’d caught him snooping in her father’s study. He thought she was going to tear him to pieces, so he flung a spell designed to temporarily halt her transformation. Somehow, she had managed to send the energy back to him. His pride was the worst injury sustained in the two-story trip out the window and into Ainsley’s rhododendrons.

  He still wasn’t sure how she’d managed something like that with no training. But at least it had uncovered her hidden talent for magic.

  “That is what I’m talking about here, Ainsley. I’ve seen you hurl powerful magic. I’m not asking you to do anything you haven’t done before. Why are you holding back on me?”

  “That’s rich, coming from you. I know you’re not being up front with me, Julian. I don’t need you to shelter me. I’m a big girl. And don’t tell me I’m doing well, when I can’t even defeat an empty bottle.”

  He looked away. She was right, of course.

  Movement behind her caught his eye.

  Ainsley must have seen the alarm in his expression. She turned to find the source.

  The stump they had been using had begun to grow upward, and was now enveloping the Coke bottle.

  “Shit,” she said. “I didn’t mean to do that.”

  “It’s quite alright, Ainsley. Now make it stop.”

  She pursed her lips into an “o” again, then drew the air in and out and lifted her palms, but nothing came. She wasn’t letting go of the anger.

  The Coke bottle exploded into a cloud of glass fragments, and the stump continued to grow. Now the vines from the pumpkin patch began to snake towards them as well.

  “Ainsley?”

  She didn’t respond, only furrowed her brow in concentration as the plants continued to grow.

  Julian was beginning to wonder if it might be prudent to relocate, when shivering in the grass around the corner of the house alerted him to someone else’s arrival.

  “Why are you breathing like that, Ainsley?” A clear female voice called as the newcomer approached. “Just relax, let it flow.”

  The bell-like voice was somehow irritating. Even more so when Julian looked to see Ainsley’s countenance relax and the plants immediately cease their growth.

  “Grace!” Ainsley said happily.

  Julian was curious to finally get a look at Ainsley’s best friend. Over the last month, he seemed to be always arriving just after she’d left. He had joked once that he was Superman and she was Clark Kent. No one had laughed. All of Ainsley’s friends hated him. He was beginning to regret his pledge to protect the book.

  Grace was not at all what he expected.

  Julian had been picturing a curvy policewoman in full uniform - cold and dead serious where Ainsley was fiery.

  Grace must have been off-duty. She wore a simple white t-shirt and a pair of worn blue jeans with a crushed velvet jacket the color of the night sky. Her inky black hair was smoothed up in an intricate bun.

  Her body was the opposite of Ainsley’s - tiny and trim without a hint of Ainsley’s delicious voluptuousness. She carried herself like a ballerina, or more accurately perhaps, like a tiny woman who hoped to look more imposing.

  Her dark almond eyes flashed to Julian. She must have been curious about him too.

  The moment their eyes connected, a shock like cold water rushed through Julian’s veins.

  Confused, his first thoughts ran to the defensive. Magic shimmered along the surface of Grace’s skin, visible to his inner eye. Ainsley had told him her friend was skilled in cottage magic. Was she actually capable of ensnaring him in a spell?

  But she looked as stricken as he did.

  Julian felt his heart blast out an unfamiliar cadence as he took in her parted lips, her tiny clenched fists, her unblinking gaze. Suddenly he was overcome with a longing to take that determined little body in his arms and soften it with his embrace. She was beautiful. She was perfect.

  Grace shook herself slightly and addressed Ainsley.

  “I stopped by the construction site on my rounds. Erik seemed worried. I told him I’d pick you up. How’s it going?”

  “Not well,” Ainsley answered honestly.

  “You’re trying too hard, that’s all,” said
Grace. “Let it do its thing. This is part of you, it should feel natural. Right, Julian?”

  How could she speak with such nonchalance when something so intense was obviously happening between them?

  He couldn’t bear to look into those eyes again, so he looked to Ainsley as he answered.

  “Ainsley is learning formal magic. It requires hard work, study and sacrifice, but it will give Ainsley control and precision. It’s a little different from cottage magic.”

  Ainsley sighed in exasperation and tromped toward the cul-de-sac.

  Too late he realized that what he’d said might offend Grace.

  “Though of course, cottage magic can be very helpful in its own right.”

  “It was nice to finally meet you.” Grace gave Julian a tight smile and headed after Ainsley.

  A jolt of sweetness that almost made him feel faint followed their brief eye contact.

  Mortified, he realized he was sick with love for her.

  And now she hated him.

  But surely everyone knew that formal magic was preferable to cottage magic? It wasn’t snobbery, it was a fact. Cottage magic was unpredictable and took its toll on its own terms. Formal magic was powerful and reliable.

  He turned back to the pool. It felt like even the frogs were giving him the stink eye. Who could blame them when he had managed to screw up love-at-first-sight?

  He tried not to imagine making love to Grace Kwan-Cortez on the abandoned brick patio, or in the tall grass as he trudged away from Happy to set up tomorrow’s lesson.

  CHAPTER 4

  Erik hummed as he tapped out the next morning’s agenda on his iPad. He didn’t spend much time in his trailer - he much preferred the fresh air and blue sky, but at least in here he was surrounded by blueprints.

  A bad feeling broke his concentration. Something was different.

  He put down the iPad to listen for the sounds of trouble.

  Silence.

  There should never be silence on the site.

  He flew out the door of the trailer, praying that there hadn’t been an injury, and ready to tear into whoever was holding things up if there wasn’t.

  His eyes took in the familiar acre of overturned ground, auburn as his mate’s fur. His men stood around looking nervous, but there was no sign that their medical emergency plan had gone into effect.