Black Werewolves: Books 1–4

by Gaja J. Kos

  The late nights. The locked office. Nathaniel had been walking a thin line for the past year.

  But he couldn’t turn the pack away. Securing the future of his job seemed insignificant compared to what the weres were doing, what they were fighting for.

  He had talked to his grandmother about the shift in the power structure, omitting the specifics of Rose’s part in the scheme. The pack’s rise to The Dark Ones was more than enough of a game changer to base a hefty conversation on—one that still sent goose bumps down his skin.

  Pia descended from a long line of Black weres. And despite her being kept in the dark—just like the rest of her kin—when it came to the ancient power a Black pack could possess, she knew enough about that blinding fear, the fear that sparked unbarred violence, to make Nathaniel’s hair stand up on its ends. Pia’s warnings of the danger a chain reaction might pose still swirled in his mind.

  Once fear spreads, even opposing forces have the tendency to band together.

  With Rose already being hunted for who she was, and with the higher beings of power monitoring the pack, the werewolves were in a situation where failure wasn’t an option. Stopping at least one line of attack, especially one as persistent as the vampires, would help them greatly—and move them, if only a little, further away from the possibility of the whole community turning on them.

  Nathaniel couldn’t say with certainty that that was a fight his friends could hope to win. Not even as The Dark Ones.

  They had to eliminate the loud-mouthed vampires before the bastards did any more damage.

  Swearing under his breath, the M.E. peered at the two seemingly untouched but irrefutably dead bodies. Walking a thin line or not, this was still a task the scientific part of him looked forward to.

  Yet at the same time, the thought made him cringe—although for entirely different reasons.

  The autopsy he and Katja had done on Rose’s attacker was more strenuous than usual. The two of them hadn’t simply been looking for the COD—though they both had a moment of admiration for Rose’s efficient, lethal skills—they were exploring every aspect of the body, the different mechanics that ruled it… Through the procedure, they had conducted a whole study.

  He perched his glasses on the top of his head and rubbed his eyes. Coffee. He would need coffee. And quite possibly to call Katja back in. A second set of hands might prove useful, and he certainly wouldn’t mind a companion to keep him sharp.

  He dropped the vampire a text, asking her if she was willing to work for a few more hours, silently hoping the answer was yes. Then, releasing a sigh, he placed down the phone, disinfected his hands, and pulled on a fresh pair of gloves.

  Another round to go.

  The light was already dying down when Evelin parked her Chevrolet in the driveway, but the evening was pleasantly warm, a soft breeze taking away the heat that had settled upon the land during the afternoon. She got out of the truck and squinted at the glistening mountaintops that rose behind the house, their jagged surface still carrying small flecks of snow.

  Living outside Ljubljana had its benefits, the view being merely one of many. Commuting in and out of town during the rush hour, on the other hand, was something Evelin would rather skip if she were given the chance.

  Her meeting with Tomo had taken some time, but not long enough to avoid traffic as she departed the center. She had been stuck in a steady, painfully slow stream of cars for the past forty minutes or so—thrice the time it took her on a Sunday.

  But… She was home. And that was all that mattered.

  Taking the path that snaked on the right side of the driveway, she followed the sound of Mark’s gentle humming straight to their yard. The werewolf was in the middle of polishing the slabs of wood that were soon to become a part of an outdoor play den he had envisioned for Rafael and Til to have during the summer months. Evelin observed him from afar, a small smile playing on her lips.

  “Evening, gorgeous.” The were grinned when he finally saw her approach. He leaned in towards her, careful to keep his sodden, gloved hands well away from Evelin’s clothes, and pursed his mouth.

  With a laugh, Evelin pressed her lips against his, a soft growl of satisfaction escaping both werewolves at the touch.

  Mark huffed playfully, mumbling into her mouth, “You smell like dead vamps.”

  Not parting from his kiss, Evelin blew out a short breath of air. “Jealous?”

  “Gods, yes,” he groaned, trapping her upper lip between his teeth.

  Evelin wished they could stay like this. No vampires to hunt down—or at least only hunting down the ones that weren’t part of a bigger scheme, and doing it together. No more looking over their shoulders for possible threats. No bounty on Rose’s head.

  As much as she tried to keep herself from thinking about it, Evelin missed the times when the pack was nothing more than that. A bunch of Black weres going on hunts and intervening when issues of others got blown out of proportion.

  Yet she wouldn’t be where she was today if it weren’t for the bloody chain of events the wolf-man had set in motion. Evelin was aware of that with painful clarity. If it weren’t for the massacred White werewolves, she would never have opened up to Mark about the family she had lost.

  They would have had a fling.

  And they would have moved on.

  She thought it sinister that something so beautiful could come from loss and blood. It was cruel that she couldn’t enjoy the family she had always wanted and only now gained without fighting for their lives every single day.

  But if those were the terms, Evelin was adamant to make the most of it.

  Tearing herself away from Mark’s soft lips, she smiled up at him, observing how his gaze traced the freckles sprinkled across her nose and cheeks before his eyes finally found hers.

  “The kids are inside,” he whispered in a husky voice, filled with raw need and soft desire at the same time. “I just have to finish up here, and I’ll join you.”

  Evelin’s chest heated as she saw the love pooling in the deep brown of Mark’s eyes, a blush creeping up her cheeks. Sometimes, she still believed the handsome werewolf was too good for her—that truthfully, she didn’t deserve him.

  She bit her lip. Comments like that always made Mark click his tongue at her. He was hers. And if she doubted him, he would tackle her to the floor before her superior reflexes could kick in and counter the attack.

  “Don’t even think it,” the older were said softly, before turning his attention back to the project at hand.

  Evelin stared at him, blinking. From time to time, an odd thought still escaped through the bond, but she could have sworn her shield hadn’t faltered. Making a quick check, she found the wall that closed off her mind from the ethereal vines connecting the werewolves was firmly shut, just as she had left it after that talk with Zarja.

  She opened her mouth, but Mark beat her to it, not even lifting his gaze from the wooden fence. “I know you, Ev. I know what lurks behind those stunning emerald eyes of yours. You. Are. Mine. And I will tackle you to the ground.”

  With a snicker, Evelin left Mark to tend to his project. She crossed the patio and headed straight into the living room where the boys had a werewolf-proof play den set up.

  She had been worried at first, leaving the two of them alone in the house like this, but Rafael had taken a liking to the baby the instant Evelin had brought him home, and Til was a sound sleeper. If Mark had put him in the crib, that was where he would be, dreaming his innocent dreams of the life Evelin hoped she could give him.

  A rustle of toys greeted her as she entered the room. She peered towards the play den, expecting to see the white cub gnawing on one of the many chewable dolls he had, but stopped dead in her tracks.

  The toddler was moving towards her, catching his balance with each step.

  Her stomach dropped.

  Evelin’s gaze darted to the crib—the infant was still there, sleeping soundly just as she had predicted he would be.

/>   Letting out a shaky breath, she turned her gaze back to the beautiful boy who couldn’t have been more than a year and a half old.

  Evelin entwined her trembling fingers, a chill crawling down her spine.

  Her gaze trailed down the chubby body, and Evelin’s legs almost gave way beneath her when she saw what she had feared the most.

  On the toddler’s right leg was a familiar gash. A streak of green, vivid and alive.

  “Rafael,” Evelin whispered before her knees buckled under the weight.

  Chapter 9

  Rose parked her car in an underground garage barely a few minutes’ walk from the strict center of Val d’Isère. She followed a short flight of concrete stairs and emerged into the crisp air, Serafina following closely behind her.

  Rose stopped on the sidewalk, the Koldunya’s bubble of spring reaching her moments before the witch did. The warmth was low-key, not prominent enough for anyone to notice, yet Rose picked up on the magic immediately, like sensing an old friend.

  Serafina had told her it was good for the earthly energy to flow freely, and keeping it toned down wasn’t nearly as difficult as shutting it off altogether. Unless her whole body collapsed and needed to channel every ounce of strength into healing, emitting an aura of magic was as natural as breathing.

  Rose had thought a lot about that as she drove to Val d’Isère, gaining a new perspective on her own relationship with the golden light. Or perhaps simply confirming what she had already sensed, but had failed to put into words. If all those times before hadn’t been enough to convince her that a forced separation from her energy didn’t sit well with her, last night on the glacier certainly was.

  Rose squinted into the sunlit blue skies, marveling at the beauty before she lowered her eyes to take in the town that spread around her.

  Val d’Isère was nestled tightly between mountains that were erected on each side, their slopes beginning to rise just before the town properly ended. It was a setting Rose wasn’t normally too keen on, but there was something about this place that made her want to share its charm with the Koldunya.

  Much too loud and popular to reside in, even if only for a week or two long vacation, the town was still more than well worth a visit. It seemed to succeed in balancing an odd blend of antique and modern. Refined cafes and night clubs; the kind of shops sport buffs would raid in a blink of an eye found right alongside the sort well-dressed elderly ladies would throw ridiculous chunks of their money at; bars and restaurants offering pastries or dishes that made Rose’s mouth water even from this distance, boasting that classic French exquisiteness, and, on the other hand, places where you could grab a slice of pizza or a quick meal on the go after a long day of skiing or a night of clubbing.

  Though they didn’t intend to do the latter, Rose already had in mind which patisserie she would take Serafina. And since Rose was famished from exploring the safe limits of her power almost until the break of dawn—the four croissants she had devoured in the morning did little in terms of calming her rumbling stomach—the patisserie seemed like the perfect first stop.

  With a wink, Rose motioned the Koldunya to follow her down the archaic streets. They veered off the road, preferring to explore the pedestrian-only alleys and casually eying the various items set up on display as they passed window after window. Serafina had brought her hidden stash of money—something the Kolduny normally had no use of—and was eager to bring a small trinket back home from every town or village the two of them stopped in. Rose left the witch in front of a shop that offered handmade jewelry, knowing Serafina would want to take her time deciding if something was worth buying.

  Marveling at the fresh air and blue skies, Rose stalked to a bench a little further down the road. The street was empty this early in the day, and Rose certainly didn’t mind staring blankly into the distance for a little while, letting her thoughts run free.

  But as she sat down, her whole body went tense, stomach turning into a clenched fist. That unmistakable scent of vampiric flesh brushed against her senses, alerting her of their proximity. Extreme proximity.

  Rose exhaled, relaxing the fingers that had already shot towards the knife she kept tucked in her boot.

  She was in France. In the mountains. In a small town that had probably never even heard of Slovenia, much less of some local werewolf from Ljubljana whose reckless, immature ass had caused a living vamp to cross into the underworld.

  She cursed silently.

  Maybe the vampires were ignorant of the developments that had occurred in a tiny, unimportant country.

  Biting the inside of her cheek, Rose kept her claws prepared despite forgoing the knife. Another slaughter was the last thing she wanted to face. It was why she had left her hometown to begin with.

  Maybe death followed her around.

  Or, maybe, she was her bringer.

  Straining her senses, Rose tried to track the group by sound. They were standing in an alley that ran parallel to the one she and Serafina had taken, only slightly more to the east. Though she couldn’t hear them clearly, their voices weren’t hushed. Instead, they were easy. Relaxed. Oblivious.

  Rose released a breath.

  No ambush this time.

  No vamps out for her blood.

  Still, she continued monitoring the group, paying attention to even the smallest detail that the vampires’ plans might take a different turn from the casual late-morning chatter of acquaintances.

  But nothing happened. And when Serafina finally joined Rose on the bench, there were no claws left in sight, no tension constricting her tendons.

  Yet the chilling sensation remained.

  Paranoia. She scowled at herself and fell in step with the redhead who was now sporting a beautiful pendant of the richest green Rose had ever laid eyes on around her slender neck. It was nestled in the deep plunge of Serafina’s bosom, making Rose’s eyes trail in that particular direction more often than she was comfortable with.

  But there was no denying that Serafina was stunning. And despite Rose still being too hurt from the way Veles tore himself out of her life to form any meaningful relationship, she decided she could, at the very least, appreciate the Koldunya’s allure.

  Months ago, the witch had made it clear how she felt towards her. Silently, Rose had to admit the feeling was mutual. It had been from the very start. But she needed to be careful. Dragging the charming redhead into the mess her life had turned into was an outcome she would rather avoid.

  Aside from the danger Vaclav’s acolytes and their sympathizers posed, aside from the possibility of being hunted down and ripped apart limb by limb if the Vedmaks learned of who she truly was, there was another matter that urged Rose to be cautious.

  She still loved Veles.

  Him being gone didn’t do a damn thing to change one simple fact. One simple truth even time couldn’t erase.

  The lord of the underworld was her consort.

  In the deepest, most meaningful manner of the word.

  He was her soulmate. The one she would always yearn for, and the one that would always have her heart.

  Caring for Serafina would never be enough. It wouldn’t be fair.

  Rose growled silently. Getting tangled up with the witch, as much as she found the idea inviting, would lead to nothing but heartache. So she shut the thought down, knowing that friendship would have to suffice.

  Perhaps that kind of connection might become more than a fling or a foolhardy attempt at a relationship could be, even at its best. It sounded like a halfhearted consolation, but Rose sensed the truth lingering beneath the thought. Imagining her life without Serafina in it…

  Rose exhaled.

  To lose her friend because she wanted to give in to temptation was unacceptable. The Koldunya meant too much. Her friendship meant too much.

  Yet that didn’t change the fact that beneath the perfect, blue skies, Serafina was even lovelier than ever before.

  They continued down the sloping streets in silence, accompanied
by the soft sounds of late morning and the alluring tendrils of freshly brewed coffee, the vampires already half-forgotten. Occasionally, Rose glanced in Serafina’s direction, never failing to find the Koldunya completely enamored with the rustic buildings and arched pathways.

  A genuine smile complimented her features. She had chosen well.

  Serafina had wanted to experience something different from the sacred circle her coven dwelled in, yet her connection with nature remained strong wherever she went—an everlasting link between the two entities. Places like Val d’Isère offered both, fed both aspects of who the Koldunya was.

  And by the wide-eyed gaze on the witch’s face as she took it all in, Rose could see that the town would remain in Serafina’s memories for decades to come.

  The cafe was submerged in wide streaks of shadows and light, tucked away behind some greenery, yet still close enough to the main road that lead through Val d’Isère to offer a view of the life people led here. With the good company, a small chocolate and vanilla cake, and about a dozen macaroons scattered across the platter, Rose found herself more content than she had been in a long time. Beside her, Serafina was munching on a blueberry tart, barely audible moans of satisfaction escaping her lips in between bites.

  Rose arched an eyebrow. “Want another?”

  The Koldunya grinned, flashing Rose her purple-stained teeth. “Oh, yes.”

  With a chuckle, Rose motioned to the waiter and ordered one more tart from their versatile menu. The man gave the pair a befuddled look but wisely remained silent as he retreated inside to fetch their order.

  “Say,” Rose began, eying the witch as she scraped the remains of her dish off the plate, “don’t they feed you back home?”

  Serafina stuck out her tongue as she put down the fork with a satisfied clink and leaned back, one of her arms resting flat against her stomach. “Nature provides us with more food than we can consume… But I wouldn’t mind it if we had a chef or two in our midst.”