Wickedly They Dance: After Darkness Falls Book Three

by Sage, May

  It was.

  For people who could leave this damn prison.

  “Are you going to offer me a drink?” Levi prompted.

  This was new. The spontaneous updates, the drink. In the old days, Levi had only come to him if he wanted to accuse him of something or ask for a favor.

  Alexius decided he didn’t mind.

  “Sure thing. I have…well, everything.”

  As he was stuck here, it only seemed right that Alexius would surround himself with all sorts of comfort and distractions. A full bar was on his list of necessities.

  “Rum and Coke, if you please, Lex.”

  “Pusser’s?” Rum was one of his spirits of choice; he had an extensive collection. But if the man was going to ruin it with soda, he sure as fuck wasn’t going to offer the good stuff.

  “Sounds good.”

  “Would you like it spiced up? I got some fresh AB neg powder.”

  Once upon a time, the Helsing manor had housed his entire family on regular occasions. It had been more of a dorm with revolving doors than a residence for anyone. Now, there were only a dozen Helsings left alive, all of whom were younger than Alexius. His little sister was technically only a couple of hundred years his junior, but considering she lived on the other side of the world, in isolation, she didn’t count.

  As the family elder, he was given reluctant respect. His reputation as an unstable, verging-on-insane scientist and ex-feral meant that the rest of his family was terrified of him. They didn’t come here if they could help it.

  So the house was his, for all intents and purposes. He’d shaped it to reflect his eccentric mind, each room so very different it felt like stepping into a different house. He could choose where he wanted to hang out, depending on his moods.

  Levi rolled his eyes, following him to a gold and black leather sitting room. “I’m not going to ask how you got hold of blood powder—AB neg, to boot.”

  Blood trafficking was highly regulated. As there was no true use to concentrated powder, other than giving vampires a slight high, it had been considered illegal for a few years now.

  Alexius smirked. “I have a donor. Selling someone else’s blood for profit is frowned upon, certainly, but he’s selling me his directly to pay for college. You know how I like to help bright young minds.”

  Levi chuckled. He surprised Alexius by saying, “Sure, why not. If you promise it was a fair, ethical deal.”

  Alexius lifted a brow. “You think I’d shortchange a boy? Come on.”

  He paid a hundred pounds for a vial of ten milligrams of blood; if Mark had gone to a dark alley dealer, he would have been offered maybe twenty or thirty pounds. Black market dealers wanted to force desperate kids to give as much blood as possible so they could profit.

  “No, you wouldn’t,” Levi said, sounding like he surprised himself. “In spite of your reputation, you’re a lot more honorable than you let on, Helsing.”

  Alexius would have liked to believe that. But he knew that every time he weighed his options and decided on a course of action, the one thing motivating him was the possibility of getting out of Oldcrest.

  Scotland was boring. Pretty, gorgeous, clean, and boring. He wanted to climb a skyscraper, swim with sharks, climb Everest, walk the entire wall of China. Rediscover the world he only knew through pictures and videos.

  This called for a change of subject. “Are you going to tell me what you’re doing here, Levi?”

  He handed the other ancient his drink and sat on his recliner.

  Levi sighed. “Was I that obvious?”

  “We’ve never been on late-night drop-by terms, friend. Not that I mind. I just figured you might want to get the matter off your chest so we can get drunk with lighter hearts.”

  Levi’s dark eyes flashed blue, a sign of barely repressed anger. “I…I don’t think I can keep it together for long. Two thousand years I’ve lived, and it has been centuries since anything—anything—has tested my patience like this.”

  Now Alexius was surprised. “What, is it Chloe? Is she nagging you or—”

  “No, no!” Levi’s expression was all confusion. “Why would you even think that? She’s perfect. The problem is him. The poser.”

  Alexius tried his very best to maintain an even expression, but laughter poured out of him, and he couldn’t stop. “Seriously? You see Fin Varra every day, and a boy annoys you more than him?”

  “Fin is fae, it’s in his nature to be…dramatic. Seth is a freaking nightmare. On purpose. He turns up without notice and lounges around my house. Flirts with my mate. And I can’t fucking punch him because we need him. Stop laughing.”

  Alexius didn’t think he could. He regained his composure for long enough to drink a healthy gulp of wine before leaning in toward Levi.

  “All right, so here’s how you deal with someone like Seth Stormhale. You question his worth. Tell him he couldn’t possibly infiltrate the queen’s legion. He’d be all the way over there in a lightning bolt.”

  Levi blinked. “That…that wouldn’t be prudent. If he gets caught, we lose our one asset.”

  Alexius’s smile flashed a set of polished fangs. “Now, wouldn’t that be a shame?”

  Pack Hierarchy

  Deep within the Wolvswoods, close to the western borders of Oldcrest and the northern lake, there was a natural spring carved within the belly of the highest hill this side of their territory. The stories said that the great witches of old—once established in the building that now shielded the Institute of Supernatural Studies—used to purify these waters to use them in their spells. After tasting it for the first time, Avani didn’t doubt it. There was something not quite right about the spring; its water was too crisp and pure.

  Some of the wolves didn’t even want to try it because they were afraid of lingering curses. Avani seriously hoped they were wrong, because being killed by a damn pond would be too lame for words.

  She didn’t often run to Leah Hill, but this morning, staying out of the way of the pack authority sounded like a good idea.

  She couldn’t be certain that whoever had been on patrol duty last night hadn’t seen her or smelled her when she snuck in. If she’d been spotted coming down from Night Hill by one of the enforcers, there’d be hell to pay. In the light of day, her actions seemed too stupid for words. Draiden, the alpha, forbade any interaction between the pack and the rest of Oldcrest.

  The Elder Pack wolves were allowed to go out of the territory once a month, escorted by guards sent by Knox himself, and that was the extent of their interaction with the rest of the world.

  Avani understood the reason behind the rules; the members of their pack weren’t known for their self-control, and if they ended up hurting an Oldcrest resident, their safe haven might be compromised.

  There weren’t many places that would have opened their doors to sups like them; not only shifters, but wilder, stronger ones. They were actual predators, not furry humans. Long ago, at the Immortal Wolf’s request, Levi had welcomed the pack’s ancestors, telling them that they could stay as long as they caused no trouble.

  Their residency still depended on the goodwill of the lord of the territory. Hell, they didn’t even pay rent. Levi had had plumbing installed, and let them place a weekly order of necessities. Avani didn’t think the pack paid for any of it.

  They would have had issues financing something like that elsewhere. Not that they didn’t have jobs. Some of them did. The alpha, beta, enforcers, and healer were solely focused on the running of the pack, but the others had occupations, in and out of their little world.

  Tray, the alpha’s younger brother, ran an outdoor gear store in Adairford. Ford fished in the lake and had permission to drive out of the territory once a week to sell his catch to various restaurants. He was considered stable enough to deal with regulars on a weekly basis, unlike most of them. Leonara, a beautiful submissive, ran an online weaving store. Camelia made leather shoes; some of them were distributed to the pack and she sold her surplus online.
They all gave a portion of their profits to the pack's common fund, so that everyone could get a small amount of pocket money. It worked well, though it couldn’t finance an entire territory and its maintenance.

  Avani would have loved to be able to sew, knit, weave, make pretty things with her hands, but she didn’t have the skills—or the patience to learn. She was mostly good at running. Fast. Faster than anyone else in the pack. She wasn’t all that bad at fighting either. A clear dominant wolf female, she’d gotten into brawls with most of the men and women in the pack at one point or another. Brawls she generally won.

  Her set of skills should have made her the perfect enforcer, had she not possessed a profound distaste for authority. She had to obey the alpha. She also hated it. Abhorred it.

  She’d arrived to Oldcrest at age fourteen, and for the first ten years of her stay, she’d mostly spent her time assisting everyone else, although not having a clear purpose meant that she didn’t get much of an allowance. Three years ago, her life changed when something extraordinary occurred. The internet was installed on Night Hill.

  One would have thought that being in the middle of absolutely nowhere would have meant that their signal was pathetic; that was underestimating the depth of a bloodsucker’s pocket. Levi De Villier had an actual tower built on the far side of the hill. The signal covered all of Oldcrest, reaching the Wolvswoods. She could finally catch up on movies, shows, get books online. And the one thing that she wanted to do after immersing herself in civilization was talk about it, to people who would get it. The rest of the pack was barely even interested. They’d been raised here, and learned to prioritize different things.

  Avani started a video blog, reviewing the stuff she read. Before she knew it, she had followers and the vlog brought a little money. As the years passed, the traffic increased—as did the cash. She now made so much she also had to contribute to the pack fund like Tray, Leonora, and the other business owners. That had been a relief, in more ways than one. She knew that she was mostly useless, and the pack had a way for useless females to earn their keep. She didn’t have to worry about that fate now.

  Being one of the pack breadwinners meant she got to do what she wanted with her time. She still assisted the others because she had more spare time on her hands than the rest of them, but that was now out of kindness rather than necessity.

  In a pack with seventy adults and as many kids, only ten members worked for themselves; everyone else served the community. She’d turned into a gofer so that the alpha didn’t order her to take a role in pack administration; those who didn’t have a clear occupation had to help the pack. Not just as enforcers; there were cooks, cleaners, teachers. And…other things.

  There was at least one pack whore at any time. It was mostly comprised of volunteers, although males and females who broke shifter law could also be condemned to work off their debt on their pack. If they did something horrible, like fatally injure a pack member or attack someone sneakily, without issuing a clear challenge, they were at the alpha’s mercy. He could order their execution, banishment—or the alternative. Prostitution. Then, they were moved to a large home next to the alpha’s, where the door was always open and anyone could go in, any time of the day.

  “Pack whores” was what the rest of the world called people in that position outside of these woods. Here, they were dubbed “pleasers.” All things considered, they were treated pretty well—their living quarters were more luxurious than almost anyone else’s in the pack and they were given presents by all their lovers. One of Avani’s friends, Julie, had volunteered a couple of years ago. She’d done it for a year, got pregnant with twins, and stopped after giving birth. No one knew who’d fathered the boys, but the entire pack took care of them.

  To Avani, the whole thing was…weird. She didn’t judge her friend’s choice—at least, she tried not to—while knowing there was no way she’d ever open her legs for the whole pack like that. Not voluntarily, and she’d never done anything that might get her punished harshly enough to be sent to the Pleasure House. She never would.

  “I thought you’d be here.”

  Avani stiffened, remaining on her knees in front of the water. She didn’t need to turn toward him to know that Zayn had arrived; she recognized his stench. Sandalwood, bergamot, and some musk that could have been pleasant, and somehow wasn’t.

  Zayn was Draiden’s eldest son, and the head enforcer. They’d gotten along as kids, but then he’d joined the church of Avani-Should-Give-Pussy. He might even have been the founding member.

  Some members of the pack believed that she should be having pups—getting hitched to one of them—as soon as possible. That, she rolled her eyes at. Others said her place was in the Pleasure House.

  The pack coveted her as a breeder because her bloodline was as pure as it could get. And she didn’t come from here; she didn’t share one drop of blood with the rest of them. Mixing between blood relatives had started to affect their heirs, physically and mentally. Those who didn’t have too many relatives in common were still remarkably similar, like siblings. Their skin was olive, their hair dark, and their eyes green or blue. Blonde with brown eyes, she stood out in every way.

  That didn’t give them any right to her body. Hell, she didn’t even want one of them. Werewolves were generally fit because of the exercise their beast demanded, and objectively, most of the males in the pack were attractive. They were also fairly sexist, and extremely classist. The dominants treated the submissives like lesser beings made strictly to serve them. The Elder Pack might be the one home where she would be safe, but it was decidedly stuck in a different century.

  She didn’t think anyone could be ordered to the Pleasure House only because they didn’t have any other job. Still, starting to make her own money had been a relief regardless. Those who contributed to the pack fund had a higher status than other pack members, higher even than that of most enforcers. At the very worst, if she’d been seen going out of pack territory last night, Draiden would have forbidden her from accompanying the pack to their monthly outing. Which would suck. Those twenty-four hours outside of the magical walls surrounding Oldcrest were necessary. Not only did she stock up on moisturizer, she also went to clubs and screwed pretty boys to sate her active shifter libido. Without the outlet, she wasn’t sure she could survive the isolation.

  But knowing that Zayn wanted her either in his bed or in the Pleasure House made every second she spent in his company torture.

  “I thought you wouldn’t have. Shame you have more foresight than I.”

  He ignored her, as he usually did. “Draiden called a meeting.”

  She tried not to let her worry show. Had she been spotted? Was it about her? Avani bit her lip. “When?”

  “Twelve.” He glanced up at the sky. “So, now. Don’t be late.”

  On that note, she felt him shift behind her, and start to run on the forest floor.

  She gathered water in both of her hands and took one last drink before removing her top and jeans.

  Avani pushed her muscles to run faster and faster, enjoying the air on her fur and the feel of the ground beneath her paws, until she reached the hamlet minutes later.

  She hadn’t always loved running. Once, it had been a necessity. She’d become good at it because it had been a matter of running or dying. Now that she didn’t have anything to run from, it was freeing.

  There were only a couple of people gathered in the pack meeting ground when she glanced at it. She had time to head to her place and put on clothes before returning to the town circle.

  Most of the pack had made it by the time she sat down in the back, near Julie and her twins, away from the dais where the alpha and beta were waiting to start their conclave.

  Zayn arrived, pacing and buck naked. His eyes widened when he saw her, changed and ready. She’d always been faster than him, he shouldn’t have been surprised. Or angry. But judging by the way he frowned, hands gathered into fists at his sides, he was both.

 
Avani did what she did best: she grinned, infuriating him further.

  “Good of you to join us, son.”

  “You called a last-minute meeting. I was passing the message along,” Zayn muttered, looking down to his toes.

  He still sounded like a teen when he talked to the alpha.

  “Well, everyone’s here now. So it’s time I announce a bloodhunt.”

  Blood Moon

  Avani had lived with the Elder Pack for long enough to understand most of their lingo, but that was a new one. A bloodhunt? She had no idea what that meant. She should have been excited. She liked blood. She liked hunting. Somehow, put together, those two words felt ominous.

  The rest of the pack didn’t seem to think so. Their excitement was palpable, spreading through the crowd like wildfire.

  “What’s a bloodhunt?” she whispered to Julie.

  Two years her junior, Julie had naturally gravitated to her; submissives often approached dominant shifters, instinctively seeking protection.

  Her friend was particularly pretty, her deep moss-green eyes wide and accentuated by long curved lashes. Boys had been sniffing at her skirts as soon as she hit puberty, and she’d always loved the attention. Julie was shy, and had a hard time saying no to any guy; it shouldn’t have surprised Avani that she’d opted for a breeder career.

  After she’d had the two boys, she was under the protection of the entire pack—especially the females. The slightest hint of a no from her meant that males had to take ten steps back and go away. She’d served her purpose.

  Avani wondered why respect was something that she’d had to buy with her body and her freedom. Having been raised differently, she had no intention of ever accepting the sexist rules of the Elder Pack.

  Even though it wasn’t a matter of protection anymore, Julie still chose to hang out with Avani when her demanding toddlers allowed it.