by Dean Murray
If he had said he was a model or an actor, I would have believed him. Or even a hypnotist or snake charmer or some other trained magician. But a vampire?
On the other hand, the fangs were pretty convincing.
“Oh,” I said finally. It probably sounded just as stupid as it felt to say it, but my brain wasn’t capable of producing anything better at the moment.
He laughed. It was a wonderful, rich sound, and I found myself unconsciously leaning toward him. “You really had no idea,” he said softly, shaking his head, and then almost to himself he added, “You’re very unexpected.”
“I mean, you’re not what I thought a vampire would look like,” I said, trying—and failing again—to come up with some quick-witted response. But my brain felt stuck on processing the word he’d given me. Vampire. Is that why my wolf wanted to attack him? Were we natural enemies or something?
“I do hope that’s a compliment,” he said.
I felt my cheeks heat and let my answer drop. “I didn’t know vampires were real. That sounds silly but I guess I thought … Shifters, wolves, were the only supernatural thing out there.”
“Lucky for you, you were wrong,” he said and I didn’t miss the note of teasing. Or flirting.
Was he flirting with me? I forced my attention back to the conversation before my clammy palms could begin sweating at the thought.
“Vampires are … I mean, you eat blood and all that?” I asked, earning a laugh.
I took that as my answer but from there, the questions flooded in as acceptance dawned. Vampires were real. But what were the rules? Did he age normally? Was he a thousand years old? How strong was he? Judging by the ache in my throat, I had a good idea. I opened my mouth to ask one or more of these questions, but he held up his hand, clucking. “I’ve answered one of yours. Now you get to answer one of mine.”
I frowned. “Fine,” I said.
“My precious little runner, tell me this—are you running toward something or away?”
I could have lied. It would have been easy, and, in fact, it would have been safer for me. When I opened my mouth, I fully intended to say that I was just having fun. Out for a jog.
Instead, my gaze locked on his and the truth came tumbling out.
“I had to get away. That pack—they’re crazy.” I lowered my voice. “They kill things.”
“And you don’t?” he asked, a smirk ghosting his lips.
“No,” I said, “of course not.”
His smile disappeared and eyes widened the smallest sliver. Was he surprised by my announcement or my naiveté?
He stepped closer to me, circling and giving me a long, up-and-down look from feet to head that made me feel a little dirty. Like he was imagining me naked. “You aren’t what I would have expected at all,” he murmured.
His breath was cool on my neck. I tried to hide my shiver.
“Who are you?” I asked, my back prickling at the way he seemed to draw me to him without even trying.
“Who am I? That’s an excellent question.” He gave me a closed-lipped smile. The points of his fangs left little indents in his bottom lip. “Who am I? Hmm.”
I straightened my shoulders and focused on the point of his nose rather than meeting his gaze directly. It was slightly easier this way to maintain my wits. “It’s not a difficult question.”
“Not a simple answer, either. And even if I answered your question, it wouldn’t tell you what you wanted to know,” he said.
I rolled my eyes. “Are you always this cryptic?”
“Are you always such a coward?” he shot back.
“I’m not a coward!” If I’d still had my fur, it would’ve risen on end at his comment. I felt guilty of his accusation even though I knew I shouldn’t, and became immediately defensive. “I don’t belong here.”
“And why is that?” he asked, head cocked.
I tried to put it into words without giving too much away. I still wasn’t sure I should be talking to him. He’d made it clear he wasn’t friends with the pack. But something about him made it impossible for me to ignore his barbs and questions. He watched me and waited as if he truly wanted to know the answers. As if he wanted to understand me. It was more than I could say for any of them. “Sharing blood with people doesn’t make you the same as them,” I said carefully.
His eyes flickered with understanding and I realized too late that I’d just admitted to being related to one of them. I held my breath, waiting to see if the realization changed things. Maybe he’d attack me again after all. But he didn’t move toward me.
“Can’t disagree with you there, darling, but is it so bad that you need to flee?” he asked. Still casual, as if the admission didn’t mean anything to him.
My shoulders slumped. I’d come this far, might as well lay it all out. “I’m being forced to fight my sister,” I said. “For the role of alpha.”
His eyes flickered with sudden interest that burned as he stared back at me. I looked away, too drawn in to risk looking at him now. “I see,” he said quietly. “I take it you’re new to their group. Seems counter-intuitive to building a familial bond throwing you to the wolves.” Hips lips twitched. “Pardon the pun.”
“How do you know I’m new?” I asked.
“Because, darling, I would’ve remembered you. Trust me,” he said and my heart pattered irregularly. I frowned, forcing myself to focus. This was not normal, wanting to kill a guy and then wanting to kiss him all in the space of minutes. Maybe the stress was getting to me. Maybe I was desperate to cling to anyone who would listen.
Or maybe this guy could help me somehow. He clearly had knowledge of the pack. Maybe he could find a way to help me out of this mess.
“The alpha role is apparently only passed to the females in the line,” I explained. “Some sort of law or tradition. My father—who I just met him yesterday—insists my sister and I compete against each other. Some sort of fight for the title. How can they expect me to fight my own sister? Especially when I know nothing about these people. She’s been here her entire life, while I’ve been stuck in human-ville. I have no chance of winning and after meeting them, I realize no chance at ever being close either.” I sighed. “Unless I can find a way to stop this, I think it’s best if I just go.”
“You speak of Regan Vuk?” he asked. “You’re her sister?”
“Half-sisters, apparently.” I wandered back over to him, suddenly aware that I’d been pacing—and that I’d just basically unloaded my entire situation onto this stranger, for no reason other than that he seemed trustworthy in a way that wasn’t definable by words.
“Half-sisters. How intriguing,” he murmured. His gaze sharpened. “And you think running away will solve your problem? That they won’t come after you and force you to do this?”
My shoulders slumped. “No. I don’t know.”
“If there were any chance for a familial bond with them, would you stay?” he asked.
“Of course. I mean, aside from this crazy battle and … the other stuff,” I said, realizing the arranged marriage was a whole other can of worms. One I didn’t want to explain just yet. “I’d love to have a sister. A dad. You know, people like me.”
“We all need to understand our roots,” he said, nodding. “Where we come from is just as important as where we’re going.”
“Even if those roots are twisted up in outdated traditions and laws designed to limit your choices rather than expand them?” I challenged.
“No one said progress was easy,” he said, and something in his words made it seem more personal than some repeated cliché.
“What am I supposed to do?” I asked.
“That,” he said, his lips curving slightly, “is not something I should answer for you. But I think you already know.”
His eyes flickered to something behind us and we both tensed. A second later, a small rustling sound reached my ears.
Crap, the pack.
I whirled back to mystery guy.
“Looks
like our time is up,” he said, and there was a note of regret in his words that made me flush. He was shifting his weight from side to side, and I could see that he was ready to bolt, but something made him pause.
“Wait,” I said, extending my hand toward him. I’m not sure why. It’s not like I was strong enough to hold him in place against his will—our fight had proven that. “You didn’t tell me your name.”
He turned back long enough to reach up and tuck a runaway strand of my hair behind my ear. His fingers were feather light against my cheek, but the tingling trail they left behind caused my breath to hitch. “Another time,” he murmured close enough that his warm breath washed over me in a sweet cloud.
I blinked, inhaling. And then he was gone, with nothing but a swirl of leaves where his feet had stood to mark his presence.
The distant rustling grew louder, closer. I grimaced.
The vampire was right. Running away wasn’t going to solve this. I had to face it, one way or another. But I wasn’t going to do it while admitting I’d been roaming out here alone. Fighting off vampires. And I needed to heal my aching throat.
I called my wolf up and shifted just as the first werewolf appeared through the trees.
The tawny wolf growled when it spotted me. I growled back, determined not to be intimidated. Another wolf appeared, bigger and bulkier than the first. His fur was mud-brown and coarse, like he didn’t worry much about grooming. He, too, growled and glared at me. They advanced slowly and my hackles rose.
I shifted my weight to my back paws, ready to flee or fight back if needed. A third wolf growled, louder than the first two, as it approached at a run. It stopped in between its pack mates and looked back and forth, snarling and yapping at them. The first two wolves backed away and lowered their heads, deferring to the newcomer. Something passed between them, some signal I didn’t understand, and then all at once, they shifted.
The tawny one became Carter. The dark-brown one was Brent—my babysitter. The third wolf, the pretty brown one with the shiny coat and pink nose, was Regan—my sister. Figured. I’d all but felt the authority rolling off her the moment she’d appeared.
We both shifted at the same time, her form shimmering at the edges until, with a soft pop of air, we were both human again.
Regan shook her hair out. “What are you doing out here?” she asked me.
“Getting some air,” I said.
Brent, even though he was back in human form, was sniffing the air and looking around. “I smell vamp,” he said.
“Are you alone out here?” Regan asked. She was standing several feet away, with both guys flanking her, looking every inch an alpha.
I tensed. They did know about vampires. And they hadn’t told me. I might be werewolf, like them, but that didn’t mean I trusted them. Not like I had immediately trusted the vampire—despite our little fight. And I wasn’t going to let them hurt him ... whoever he was.
I met her gaze squarely. “Yes,” I said. “I’m alone.”
“Huh,” Brent grunted, clearly unconvinced.
Regan shot him a look before returning her attention to me. “Look, you can’t wander so far from the house. It’s not safe.”
“Why not?” I asked.
Her eyes bulged. Behind her, Brent and Carter made matching sounds of disappointment. “Don’t you know anything about vampires?” Regan demanded.
“No,” I said, doing my best to look surprised. “Actually, I don’t. In fact, up until now, I didn’t even know they existed.” It wasn’t a lie, not technically.
Regan shook her head. Beside her, Carter muttered something I didn’t catch.
“You will,” Regan said grimly. Her tone left no doubt in my mind that whatever ill feelings my attacker had for this pack was mutual. “Come on, let’s get back. I’ll explain on the way.”
I hesitated. An hour ago, I would’ve refused, and taken my chances with running. But now … The vampire was right. I could run away now, but it wouldn’t change things. I had to face it head on, like the alpha I might become. And, win or lose, I had to fight for my family. I couldn’t just walk away from this chance, especially knowing I might never get it again.
With that in mind, and one last look into the empty woods behind me, I let Regan lead me back.
Chapter Eight
Regan
The meeting hall was crowded even for a meeting like this one. I felt the weight of curious eyes, some concerned, some outright nosy, as I walked into the log building that housed our leader’s offices. The building was a long rectangle, nothing fancy, but solid—even now after housing four generations of pack leadership the thick wooden logs and double layer glass was solid and sure. A symbol of our strength, Dad said.
As a kid, I’d come with him and Mom a lot. I’d hang out in the meeting space that made up the atrium of the building, playing in the corners and making forts underneath the tables. I still liked the way it smelled of pine and orange cleaner every time. It was a strange nostalgic comfort to my senses—especially now, with Mom gone.
Still, even as my brain reminded me of it, I looked left automatically as I passed through the entrance. Mom’s office was that way. Now Dad’s office, I mentally corrected. And not much of her remained. I think it was too painful for him, but I’d still been hurt when he’d cleaned out her things so fast and put them in storage in our attic at home.
But something of her remained. I could feel it in the air as the crowd surged in behind me.
Shoulders jostled mine and I looked up to find Charlie wedged in beside me. She’d been different since I’d caught her running alone in the woods two days ago. Not quite enthusiastic about her fate but more … willing. Although she’d been guarded as well. And something told me Charlie wasn’t used to having to be strategic with her words. Still, she was doing it now. And still, every morning she ran alone at dawn.
I hadn’t mentioned it to Dad. He’d want her followed, but so far, she always came back. And I knew the importance of privacy when you were constantly in the spotlight, so I let her have it.
“Hey,” I said, taking in her pinched mouth and tight brow line. “You okay?”
“There are a lot of … people here,” she said, as if admitting a hidden fear.
“This is a bigger turnout than usual,” I said, debating how much to say. I was hyper aware of the others nearby who were probably listening to our exchange.
“Why?” Charlie asked.
I nudged her to the right toward our seats as others began to fill into the chairs around us.
“It’s the first meeting since … our leadership changed over,” I said, dodging the use of the word “Mom.”
“Do they want to see if your dad can handle it?” she asked, her word gentle.
“No, they know he can. It’s …” I sat and pulled her down beside me, sighing instead of finishing my sentence.
“They are here to see you,” she said knowingly. Sympathy broke through her nerves. “Regan, I’m—”
“And you,” I added hastily. I hated ruining the moment, but sympathy in front of prying eyes wasn’t something I could handle right now. “You’re shiny and new and they want to know about you,” I added.
“Of course,” she said and even though she didn’t sound upset to have the subject so abruptly changed, guilt pricked at me for ruining what might’ve been a nice moment between us.
To assuage my guilt and to fill the silence, I pointed out various elders and pack members as they took their seats. The noise level in the room grew from a hum to a dull roar and I finally left off rather than yell to be heard over it all.
Bevin and Carter entered and I smiled at them. They smiled back and Bevin’s gaze swept sideways to Charlie before her smile abruptly died off. I ducked my head, hoping Charlie missed it. No one else spoke to her—or me for that matter—and I wondered if the others felt like Bevin did or if they were keeping their distance out of respect. I wasn’t sure, but after that, I purposely kept my gaze averted while we waited for
the meeting to begin. For some reason, I felt bad for the less-than-warm reception she was receiving.
Five minutes later, Sheridan’s voice cut through the noise in the meeting hall like a whip cracking. “This meeting of the pack will come to order.” At the sound of it, half the voices abruptly cut off.
She stood at the head of the table, her usual place despite the fact she wasn’t an alpha. I wasn’t exactly sure how she’d secured the spot except that Mom seemed to feel it was easier to let Sheridan sit there than to argue over it. Mom always said you had to pick your battles with Sheridan. That she wasn’t a woman to take on lightly. I thought Sheridan was a spoiled bitch. All she did was run the meetings. A spokeswoman. A secretary. And not a nice one at that.
The last kid to cross her in one of these meetings had ended up with a patrol line that skirted the sewer plant fifty miles north of here. The route wasn’t even in our territory, yet Sheridan had insisted there’d been reports of trespassers coming in that way. The kid had come home smelling like shit for weeks.
When I was alpha, I planned to have her seat moved to the back of the room. Or maybe outside. I hadn’t decided which.
I sat in the row behind Dad, at the opposite end of the table from Sheridan. Charlie was on my left in Carter’s usual seat. He’d looked pretty pissed to be giving it up, but Dad hadn’t given him a choice. These seats were for the higher ranking pack members, which no longer applied to Carter. He wasn’t happy about it, either, and let me know it by the silent glare he was aiming at the side of my head from his standing position along the wall. I didn’t give him the satisfaction of turning and acknowledging it, and I could tell that pissed him off even more. It’s not like it was my decision anyway.
Charlie shifted in her chair. I stole a glance at her out of the corner of my eye. Her dark hair was in a long ponytail down her back, shiny and smooth. I felt a pang of jealousy at the sight of it. I would’ve loved long hair, but Mom would never allow it. She said it made your wolf too shaggy, which slowed you down. An alpha had to be the fastest in the pack—always.
