by Gaja J. Kos
Not that Rose could blame her. Through the ethereal paths of the bond, she knew Zarja had successfully threatened the bar’s owner to the point where he began to fear for his prolonged life. And since Mora was the most popular vampire hangout, his cooperation assured the pack there would be no more panicked meeting happening inside its walls. It was a start.
Zarja took a seat next to Rose, bumping the werewolf’s extended fist with a wide grin on her face. She had always loved being the enforcer within the pack and—Rose was glad to notice—her tactics had evolved from brute force to calculated threats, which seemed to make the werewolf enjoy her designated job even more.
She motioned to Lado, who had been trying to make himself as small as possible behind the bar, and the owner sheepishly reacted to her unspoken command, hurrying over to their table with seven pitchers of beer rattling on a platter.
Right on queue, Jens and Jürgen entered, as if some mystical bond between the twins and their beloved beverage urged them to enter. Since Mora was now vampire free—with the exception of Lado who had nearly broke into a run when he decided it was safe to retreat to his office—the Double J team barred the door behind them, preventing any unwanted intrusions.
They hurried over to the rest of the pack, their hands already firmly wrapped around their respected pitchers before either of them had even had the chance to sit down properly.
“I’ll talk to Nathaniel, see if he’ll be able to talk the primary M.E. on the case into handing over the bodies—or at least convince him to allow Nathaniel to run his own tests on the side,” Tim began, taking a sip of his beer. “If it is indeed poison, I think he has a far better chance of determining what kind.”
Grunts of agreement circled around the table. Nathaniel’s particular expertise when it came to dealing with supernatural beings could prove to be crucial. Because despite the fact that vampires have been a part of human society for centuries, the medical field hadn’t been paying them much attention. The blood-consuming beings couldn’t catch diseases, and the only medical knowledge the rest of the population was interested in was what to pierce or sever in order to get a vamp’s body onto the M.E.'s examination table.
Although, even the latter was almost redundant, aside for when it came to traditional vampires, since the twentyfourhourlies didn’t actually pose a threat to humankind. And most people accepted that.
As for the ones who didn’t, well, the twentyfourhourlies knew how to pass for human.
The only field that had done any kind of research to support their kind was a small group of OB-GYNs, who had devoted their lives to studying vampiric births. Most of the twentyfourhourlies could, in fact, parent children with their human partners, and the experts butted their heads together, attempting to figure out if there was something in the genetics that could determine what it was that caused for some children to be born as humans and the rest as vampires. As far as Rose knew, they hadn’t stumbled upon anything of relevance yet. But at least they had put in some effort.
“I’ll ask Nikolai if he can obtain a copy of the police reports for us,” Evelin added, knowing her stepfather was probably the only one with good enough connections to actually be able to poach the police for information without revealing why a group of non-law enforcement “humans” was interested in solving the case.
“All of this would be much easier if we ran a P.I.’s office.” Jens sighed, finishing his pitcher in a single breath.
Jürgen raised one eyebrow, the blue of his eyes coming alive with mischief. “Looking for a career change, bro?”
“What, and leave the repair shop to you?” Jens looked at his twin, mock horror written on his face. “I wouldn’t dare risk hundreds of innocent lives being lost in bike crashes due to your shit-ass work.”
Jürgen bared his teeth in an unpleasant smile, but the mischief in his eyes remained untouched. “Is that right? Remind me, brother, who fixed your half-ass work after that Harley you had put together so damn well nearly fell apart right in the middle of the highway…”
Rose drank her beer in silence, observing the exchange and fighting to keep her laughs contained.
“I’m just glad you didn’t fuck my bike up,” Tim said in a quiet voice. And that did it.
Rose couldn’t hold it together any longer. Full-blown, growling laughter erupted around the table, and the twins clinked their empty pitchers together, grinning wildly.
“While you’re all in such a good mood,” Jürgen began, a single corner of his lips tugged in a covert smile, “would you mind if I interviewed that lovely, jasmine-smelling brunette vamp that talked to you earlier?”
“Hunting for your very own fuckvamp, huh?” Rose grinned at the blond werewolf, finally getting some retribution for the time she had introduced Veles to the pack. And the endless jabs that followed.
Jürgen put on his best saintly face, which, in reality, wasn’t even remotely innocent. Rose snickered; at least he had tried.
“You may, but I’m coming with you for supervision.” Zarja smiled, the gold specks in her eyes sparking up. “Wouldn’t want you distracting our witness.”
The werewolf raised his eyebrows. “Liar. You just want a chance at her as well.”
Rose shook her head, stifling the laugh that threatened to escape her lips as she observed the shock on Zarja’s face—the shock that revealed just how well Jürgen had read her. “While you’re out seducing—what was the word again? Oh, yes—dead meat, I need to talk to my own blood-sipping honey.”
She still hadn’t asked Veles about the whole god-with-fangs thing, and the peculiarity was too close to the specific vampire biology not to probe him about it now. Besides, even if her enquiries proved to be nothing but a dead end and the god unable to shed more light onto the manner of vampiric deaths, at least he could show her the souls of departed vamps. Maybe she would be able to learn more about the details of their passing from the ethereal memories of their final moments through firsthand experience.
“I’ll try to convince Dragan to schedule a few sessions with me. I think he could use them. Besides, with guiding him through his grief, he might mention something crucial he would have otherwise forgotten to,” Mark added, his fingers rubbing against his thick beard.
“So, we’re all set?” Zarja stood after she finished her beer, wrapping her ankle-length coat around her body.
“What about Lado?” Evelin asked, her eyes fixed on the locked office door where the petrified vampire had taken refuge.
Zarja flashed her teeth, but it wasn’t an unpleasant grin; in fact, it almost held an ounce of sympathy in it. Almost.
“Let him huddle in there for a little longer. It’ll do him good to ponder upon his sins.”
Chapter 5
Rose was glad she had decided to take the hour-long walk back to her apartment instead of stepping on the first bus that crossed her path. The rush hour had just begun as the werewolves left Mora, which meant the streets of Ljubljana were crammed in that particular claustrophobic way only a town-pretending-to-be-a-megalopolis could succeed in achieving.
Being stuck in a bus packed with humans and the daily odors they carried written in the fabric of their clothes wasn’t something she was too eager to experience.
So Rose stuck to the open air the streets offered and lit the cigarette she had been craving from almost the very moment she had stepped into the tension-filled interior of Mora.
Even with the overcast skies coating Ljubljana in a somber hue, the ornate buildings of the old town looked beautiful, their fronts carrying not only decades but centuries of history. Yet the sight did nothing to calm the whirlwind raging within Rose’s mind.
Fumbling the cigarette between her fingers, she thought of how reluctant she had been when the pack first came to the single conclusion that would keep them from being hunted—that they must keep a stellar reputation.
The supernatural community feared the ancient strength of The Dark Ones, even if it existed in their collective memory as nothin
g more than a cautionary tale. However, the more powerful individuals’ take on their ascension was in its core purely pragmatic.
Black werewolves had always been a deadly force, yet one that never ranked high in the hierarchy. And they harbored no aspirations to climb the ranks, perfectly content with the status their lives held. But with the strength of The Dark Ones, the almost unimaginable potential of a group that couldn’t be slaughtered by killing off their members one by one… The pack had not only jumped through ranks; they crushed them.
Aspirations or no, the werewolves had become a threat to the existing structure. Proving to be nothing more than a stronger group of weres and aiding the community in whichever was possible was the only solution to keep the existing leaders off their backs. And to keep the masses from fearing and hating their new power.
But remembering the distress Dragan had been in, Rose was glad the pack had been forced to give its assistance. If someone truly was targeting the twentyfourhourlies, the reality was that the weres had a far better chance of capturing the person or creature responsible. Especially since she wasn’t all that certain just how serious of an investigation the police were willing to conduct. The vampires were—despite their efforts—outsiders.
After a few more minutes of weaving through the afternoon crowd that occupied the main street, Rose decided to instead cut through the less frequent neighborhoods and enjoy the solitude the sharp coldness of January offered. She took a turn, leaving the lively rumble behind her, and found herself breathing easier as she walked down the narrow road.
A little over halfway to her apartment, she veered into a small park that would be annoyingly overflowing with children if it were warmer. She found a snow-free bench beneath the trees, glad to smoke another cigarette in the cool serenity the location provided. After the ruckus at Mora, her ears ached for a moment of silence. The perpetual clouds lingering in the sky gave the space an eerie feeling, but for once, she wasn’t bothered by it.
If it meant the citizens of Ljubljana would rather stick to their homes and their cars, she wasn’t about to start complaining merely due to the lack of sun.
As Rose continued to walk at a slow pace towards her quarter, she thought of Veles, opening the one-way mind link between them to alert the god that they needed to speak. But instead of letting his underworldly lordship show up behind her back, she sent a consecutive thought, telling him to meet her at her apartment instead.
Although the idea of letting the winter chill caress her naked skin as the god’s warm body pressed snugly against her from behind—making her feel the pressure and the promise of his demand—was tempting, the desire to have a few moments to herself proved greater.
She needed those remaining fifteen minutes to clear the image of the heartbreaking distress she had seen on Dragan’s face.
The visual had struck too close to home.
It had been difficult enough to live with the knowledge that the wolf-man Rose had successfully obliterated with her power during the battle in Mračaj, had set on a path to end Veles’s life. The creature, trying to get retribution for his master’s death—which had been delivered by the hands of Veles's father—decided to unleash his wrath on Velin’s successor. He wanted to destroy the gates between realms, and the lord of the underworld with them.
He failed…
But to actually imagine the possibility that someone would succeed in taking away her god... That was not something Rose was willing to handle.
She covered the remaining distance in a daze, letting the surroundings flow by as she shoved the dread from her mind.
When she finally unlocked the doors, the familiar smell of her apartment washed over her, its fragrance gently mixed with that particular olive-scented power that spoke of her dark-haired consort’s presence.
Questions could wait.
She needed to feel the warm sensation of Veles’s body against hers, needed to submerge herself in the god’s caresses, destroying the chill that had settled inside her bones—the chill that had nothing to do with the winter outside and everything to do with the sole thought of losing the person who meant the most to her.
Almost in a haze, she followed the alluring fragrance to find him lying languidly in her bed, the white, floral-patterned sheets barely reaching the inviting line of his hips. Rose shrugged off her duke blue coat, letting it fall on the floor without any regard, and kicked off her boots one by one as she made her way into the bedroom.
He opened his mouth to speak, but Rose’s lips were already on his, her tongue exploring the god’s exquisite taste.
“Missed me so much already, Rosalind?” he whispered as they broke from the kiss, his words practically oozing with satisfaction.
“No, no.” She smiled, her gaze never leaving the god’s face. “You don’t get to talk yet.”
Olive embers flared up in Veles’s eyes, the deep black rims barely containing them as he observed her.
Rose positioned herself on top of him, her thighs resting against his hips. She leaned forward, and her strawberry-blonde curls fell like a curtain around the god’s face, cutting the two of them from the rest of the world.
Tracing her fingers down the sharp line of his cheekbone, she followed the path until she reached the full curve of his slightly parted lips. Veles exhaled in a long, masculine groan.
“Ooh, the almighty tease can’t stand a little teasing?” Rose whispered, lowering her face so her lips almost brushed against his. “One of these days, I am going to tie you in place, tightly, securely, and take my time. As much as I will please.”
Intrigue sparked in his eyes, fuelling the primal need that pooled within them. Rose barely had the time to acknowledge the strong grip of his hands as they came to rest on the curve of her hips.
She found herself sprawled on her back before she even had the chance to react, the god already stripping her tight, combat-appropriate pants in a single, effortless move.
“Tough words for a little wolfie.”
Veles pushed his body upward, his naked body now exposed as the sheet fell carelessly to the side. Rose had looked up in time to catch a glimpse of his perfectly formed fangs showing before the god captured her lips in a fervent caress of his mouth, the sharp ends gently tearing at her skin.
She shivered underneath him, feeling the pulse of his demand brushing tightly against her thighs.
Unable to fight the urge, she ran her hands down his body; the strong muscles flexed underneath her fingers as Veles lifted his body higher, his eyes lingering on her lips, the cuts already beginning to heal.
His mouth curved in a content smile as he leaned closer, his tongue traveling across the crimson liquid.
“Let’s do that again,” he whispered in a tone that spoke clearly of his resolution to do precisely that. Soon.
He ran his lips down the side of her neck, tracing the delicate line of her collarbone until he reached the supple swell of her breast. Her breaths became labored at the sensation of the pleasurable pain he caused as he teased her vulnerable, sensitive skin with his fangs.
Her whole body screamed for the god to deliver that promised bite, but instead of granting Rose her wish, he moved lower.
The tips of his pitch black hair brushed against her stomach, his eyes never leaving her face as he continued to slowly, slowly follow the designated trail across her bellybutton, swerving to the side only to place a kiss on the very edge of her hip.
“Oh, yes, Rosalind.” Veles exhaled, his fangs gleaming in the light while his gaze focused on the vee between her thighs. “I will most definitely taste you again.”
Evelin sat on the small leather couch in her stepfather’s study, a sleeping Rafael curled up in her lap. Nikolai was on his third phone call, the previous two having ended without obtaining any promising results.
Most of his contacts had a good relationship with the old chief of police, but ever since the amiable man had retired, none of them had much luck establishing a trusting connection with his successo
r.
Nikolai had to fish for someone lower in the hierarchy.
He remembered that one of his former pack members was married to a policeman’s brother, or at least she had been, last that he’d heard of. But judging by the pleasant tone of Nikolai’s voice that now spilled through the space, Evelin assumed the woman’s relationship had held throughout the years.
“Anita, that’s wonderful.” Nikolai beamed. His words were filled with warmth that spoke of their former pack status; even without staying in touch, the bonds between those who used to run together weren’t easily broken. “I wouldn’t want to spoil your fun, but could you maybe ask him if he’d grant the pack discreet access? It’s quite possibly our only chance to get ahead of this thing.”
Evelin could hear the werewolf’s voice buzzing through the receiver, but didn’t strain herself to listen in. The satisfactory expression that brightened Nikolai’s face sufficed.
They had their liaison.
Exchanging a few more pleasantries, the werewolf hung up, keeping the phone at arm’s reach on his desk, and allowed himself a relieved smile.
“Anita is throwing a baby shower for her daughter, and the whole family is present,” Nikolai explained. “Including her brother-in-law. If all goes well, I will have the officer’s number in a few minutes, and you will have your case files, Ev.”
Evelin got up, careful not to disturb Rafael, who had remained curled up in her arms, and walked over to place a kiss on Nikolai’s cheek. “Thank you.”
“It’s nothing,” he replied, his eyes focused on the small, white ball of fur; the cub didn’t seem at all annoyed by the movements. “Let me have the little one for a bit.”
Evelin smiled, passing him the sleeping were. Rafael let out a small sound of content as he repositioned himself in Nikolai’s lap, his muzzle tucked safely behind one of the werewolf’s large arms.
