Branded

by Neva Bell

  “I know you hate me, but that was cruel.”

  I tilt my head to the side. “I don’t hate you. I don’t hate you at all. In fact, I thought we were becoming friends.”

  The anger in his eyes dims. “You have an odd way of treating your friends.”

  “I’m very sorry. Please accept my apology. I won’t do it again. I promise.”

  He takes a deep breath and releases it slowly. “Alright then. I’ve said my peace and I accept your apology. Sorry for interrupting your shower.”

  I’m suddenly very aware that I’m in a robe and he’s in boxer briefs. My heart flutters. I need to get him out of here.

  “I was already done, but it is time for my nap.”

  James walks toward the door. “Get some rest. It could be a crazy night.”

  ---

  Jessica comes to my room around 9:00 p.m. to help with my hair and makeup.

  “Please come with us tonight Jess. You’ll have fun.”

  “Nah,” she says as she pulls my hair up into a high ponytail. “Dancing isn’t really my thing.”

  “Frank will be there,” I tease.

  “Frank will be working.”

  “True,” I admit. “You guys wouldn’t be able to hang out.”

  Jessica smiles sadly. “Frank wouldn’t be interested in me anyway.”

  I turn and look at her. “Are you kidding? You’re amazing. He’d be an idiot not to fall for you.”

  “I’m not a witch Chloe. He doesn’t even notice me.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. Frank isn’t the average male witch. He isn’t concerned about your witch status.”

  Jessica slides a bobby pin in my hair underneath my ponytail. “If you say so.”

  When Jessica is done with my hair, I call down to Whitney.

  She nearly shouts into the phone when she answers. “Hello!”

  I hold the phone away from my ear for a second. “Whitney, when are you coming up? I need my clothes.”

  “I’m almost ready. I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

  Next, I call the Guard.

  “How can I help you Ms. Chloe?”

  “Whitney is coming to my room. No need to worry about Directive Number Five.”

  “Understood,” the male voice says, then hangs up.

  Jessica raises an eyebrow. “Directive Number Five?”

  I shake my head. “Don’t ask.”

  ---

  I take one more look at myself in the mirror. The outfit Whitney picked out for me is awesome. A white silk shirt with long sleeves sits just above the beltline of skintight white leather pants. The shirt covers the front half of my body, but leaves my upper back exposed. My hawk tattoo is on full display and I love it.

  The outfit is completed by beautiful, white suede high-heeled boots that come up to my knees. Whitney even bought me a slim-fit leather jacket the color of caramel to wear while I’m outside. I don’t mean to brag, but I feel like a badass.

  “You look amazing!” Jessica exclaims.

  “Thank you! I feel amazing!” Whitney stands next to me in the mirror and I laugh. “We are complete opposites!”

  Whitney is wearing a tight black dress. Her black stilettos have five inch heels and tiny metal spikes sticking out of them. Her dark hair is down and her green eyes shine.

  We all climb into the elevator and descend to the Guard operations center where we’re supposed to meet up with the guys.

  Jessica lets us off. “You ladies have a good time.”

  Whitney is back to nearly shouting again. “We will!”

  We wave at Jessica as the elevator doors close. Whitney and I lock arms and make our way to the conference room.

  “We’re ready!” Whitney announces when we walk in.

  Frank, James, Willa, Ivan and Bane are huddled over a map confirming our route. They all look up and stare at us. I think I see Bane’s jaw drop, but I can’t be sure.

  Willa breaks the silence. “Chloe! Whitney! You girls look fantastic!”

  Whitney and I pose for her.

  “If only I were sixty years younger!” she exclaims.

  “I haven’t shown you the best part.” I turn around and let my jacket slip down to my elbows.

  Willa gasps. “Oh Chloe…your hawk… it’s gorgeous!”

  “There’s a lot more gold now, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “A lot more,” Frank adds.

  I pull my jacket up. “You guys ready?”

  Frank nods. “Yes. Our escorts are waiting outside.”

  Willa pulls me in for a tight hug. “Be careful.”

  “Don’t worry Willa,” Frank promises, “I’ll bring her home safe.”

  Five black Escalades are running and ready to go when we step outside. Frank opens the back door to the third vehicle in line and I climb in. I’m surprised to find the two rows of backseats face each other. Whitney and I sit across from James and Frank as we ride to the club.

  I look out the window and watch the city go by. It’s my first time out of the building since Chelsea’s funeral. Feels a little bizarre to be in the hustle and bustle I usually watch from my bedroom windows.

  “This is going to be so much fun!” Whitney exclaims, her excitement reaching its boiling point.

  James and Frank don’t seem to share her enthusiasm. Mine is waning the closer we get to the club.

  I crack my window open and take in the cool, fresh air. “Think the club will be busy?” I ask Whitney.

  “It’s already packed!”

  She shows me Marley White’s Instagram feed. Marley’s photos show a long line waiting to get into the club and the packed dance floor inside.

  I’m half-listening to Whitney as she goes on and on about how great the club looks, her guesses at what type of music will be playing, and the drinks she wants to get. I’m too busy watching out for stalkers to really appreciate what she’s saying.

  “We’re good Chloe,” Frank assures me, seeing my anxiety.

  “There are so many hot guys there,” Whitney says as she puts her phone back in her small black purse. “You going to dance with any of them?”

  I don’t want to dance with any guys, but before I can tell Whitney this, James says, “She will not.”

  “Excuse me?” I say with attitude. “I think that’s my decision, not yours.”

  “A werewolf would never let his woman dance with another man. If you do, it will discredit our story.”

  I huff. “I didn’t know you are the jealous type.”

  “All werewolves are the jealous type,” Whitney informs me as we pull up to the club.

  Everyone in line turns and stares at our Escalades as they come to a stop.

  I see the look of anticipation on their faces. “They think we’re celebrities.”

  “To werewolves and witches, you are,” Whitney responds.

  Frank presses his finger against his earbud, then says, “We’re clear to exit.”

  Whitney pushes the door open, but James steps out first. He scans the sidewalk, then waves us on. Whitney steps out, then me, and then Frank.

  Frank looks the part of a professional bodyguard in an all-black suit. He has an ear piece in one ear and a walkie talkie clipped to his suit pocket. He’s on high alert as we walk through the crowd.

  James isn’t nearly as formal, but then again, he’s not playing the part of my bodyguard. He’s playing the part of my boyfriend.

  He’s wearing jeans, a grey t-shirt, and a brown leather jacket. He looks fantastic. It won’t be hard for me to pretend I’m attracted to him. As he turns to make sure we’re close behind him, I notice his shirt has a giant outline of a hawk on the front. Is this an homage to my tattoo?

  James slips the bouncer a hundred dollar bill and the bouncer unhooks the red velvet rope to let us in. The music is pumping when we enter the building. We walk down a long, dark hallway that suddenly opens up to a giant dance floor.

  The club is a refurbished warehouse. The lights are low and the music is l
oud. Neon lights shoot across the ceiling – yellow, pink, green, blue and orange. The Weeknd is singing about being a starboy as the bass thumps.

  We weave our way through the crowd. James finds an open space near the bar.

  He yells over the music, “There’s an empty spot over there.” He points to an area across the room. “We should head that way. Walk past as many people as we can. Hopefully someone will recognize us.”

  We all nod, the music too loud for a conversation.

  We make our way across the floor, Whitney and I dancing a little as we go. The energy in the club is high and people are having fun. By the time we make it across the room I’m ready to dance.

  James finds an open table and sits down.

  “What are you doing?” I shout over the music.

  “What does it look like I’m doing?” he yells back.

  “I came here to dance!”

  I take off my coat and throw it on the chair next to James. Whitney follows suit and throws hers on top of mine. I scan the club and see people dancing on an elevated platform fifteen feet away.

  “Up there!” I yell to Whitney. “We’ll definitely be seen up there!”

  She grabs my hand and we make a bee line to the platform. When we get to it, Frank boosts me and Whitney up. The platform is a giant circle ten feet in diameter. We stay close to the edge so Frank can keep an eye on us from down below. Plus, more people will see us this way.

  A Flo Rida song comes on and I start moving to it. I lose myself in the music and for a few minutes, I’m the girl I was six months ago. No worries, just the beat flowing through my body. Ice Cube comes on next. Whitney and I sing the song to each other as we dance.

  I’m having a great time, but I stay mindful of the potential danger. I scan the crowd periodically for any red flags. Frank stays next to the platform, the heels of my boots level with his waist.

  I see a few Guard members positioned around the club, their black suits making them easy to pick out. James’s men are somewhere in the crowd as well, but they’re harder to spot in the sea of unfamiliar faces.

  I look over at our table, but James is gone. Probably sulking in a corner somewhere.

  I turn back to Whitney and she shows me how to twerk. I’m laughing too hard to even attempt it when Ariana Grande suddenly coos over the speaker.

  Whitney and I both squeal, “Ariana!”

  I’m singing along to one of my favorite Ariana songs when I feel someone press his body against my bare back. A strong hand pulls me in and holds tight around my stomach. I glance over my shoulder and see James.

  “We have to be seen together, and I don’t think you want to hang out with me at the table,” James whispers in my ear.

  Goosebumps run up my arms. His body is warm and strong, protective but not domineering. I put my hand over his, keeping it in place.

  We move together to the music and I close my eyes. Chelsea had a theory about the correlation between a man’s dance skills and his skills in the bedroom. If she were here, I’d tell her James is a good dancer, and we’d both giggle about it.

  James leans down and kisses the back of my neck. Heat shoots through my entire body. I don’t care who’s watching us. I’m not putting on a show. I like the feel of his body against mine, and I want him to know it. I turn around to face him and he steps back, concerned he may have gone too far.

  I pull him toward me and whisper in his ear, “Don’t stop. I want this.”

  He lowers his lips to mine, eyes gleaming in the flashing lights. His arms hold me close as I separate my lips and let his tongue explore mine. All the pent up attraction. All the flirtation. All crashing together. If we weren’t in the middle of a club, I’d rip his clothes off and have my way with him. I’m tempted to do it anyway, regardless of the crowd.

  In the midst of being completely wrapped up in James, I wonder what took us so long. He’s smart, he’s caring, he’ll be a great leader, and I’m ridiculously attracted to him.

  I pull away and look him in the eyes. “I want you. More than anything.”

  He smirks and whispers in my ear, “You don’t know how long I’ve waited to hear that.”

  He kisses my neck again and a small moan escapes my lips. I remember what Whitney told me about werewolves and their mates. How a female bares her neck to the male to let him know she wants him.

  I arch my back and tilt my head back as far as I can. I don’t open my eyes to see if James understands what I’m doing, I know he will.

  James groans and leans over. He runs his tongue from the base of my neck up to my jaw line. My body is quivering from the sensation. It is like warm ice running down my skin. His tongue stops just under my ear.

  My eyes meet his. The intensity burns. He stands me up straight and our mouths meet again. Every part of me fully engrossed in the way his body feels against mine.

  James lifts his head. “Umm…Chloe?”

  I’m disappointed he’s pulled away. I don’t want the moment to end.

  “Yeah?” I manage to say, trying to get myself together. After a second I realize the music has stopped. “What the…”

  I look around and realize everything has stopped. The entire club is stuck in place. People holding drinks halfway to their mouths; Whitney’s hair frozen midair as she whips her head around; others stuck in awkward dance movements.

  “I’ve frozen all of them,” I say with disbelief.

  James scans the crowd, impressed. “Everybody but us.”

  I turn to him. “I better fix this, huh?”

  “You probably should.”

  I focus on breaking the spell and the club comes to life. No one seems to notice what happened. I’m about to get back to where James and I left off, but I’m hit with a wave of dizziness. My body slumps into James.

  “Hey, are you alright?” he asks concerned.

  I put my hand on my forehead. “I feel tired all of the sudden.”

  James sweeps me up into his arms and yells to his sister, “Time to go Whit!”

  Whitney starts to pout, but then she sees me in James’s arms. “What’s wrong? What happened?”

  “Chloe needs to leave.”

  Frank reaches out his arms and James reluctantly hands me down to him.

  “Can you walk?” Frank asks me.

  I nod. “Yeah, I think so.”

  I hang my arm over Frank’s shoulder and we walk toward the exit. Thankfully, the Guard has cleared a path for us to get out quickly. The cars are waiting at the curb and we climb into our Escalade.

  As soon as I get in my seat, I lean my head against the window and close my eyes. My head is throbbing and blood pulses through the veins over my temples. Even though I didn’t realize I was doing it, the magic I used in the club drained all of my energy.

  Whitney climbs in and takes the seat next to me. James sits directly across from me, and Frank takes the last empty seat.

  “Are you okay?” James asks.

  I nod. “I just need to rest.”

  “You should see Sherman when we get home,” Frank says.

  “It’s late, he’s probably asleep.”

  James doesn’t care about Sherman’s beauty rest. “We’ll wake him.”

  Frank hits the button on his walkie talkie. “Someone call headquarters. Make sure we have a healer ready upon arrival.”

  “Oh my God you guys! It worked!” Whitney exclaims.

  Her loud voice makes me cringe.

  “Sorry,” Whitney says in a whisper. “But it worked! Look!”

  Whitney hands me her cellphone.

  I look at the screen and scroll down. “It did. It worked,” I confirm.

  “Are you sure?” Frank asks.

  I turn the screen so Frank and James can see. “It’s Marley White’s Twitter page. James and I are all over it.”

  I scroll through the entries and read them aloud:

  11:25 p.m. Future pack leader James is in the house! And so is his little sis Whitney! Love her outfit!

 
The post is accompanied by a picture of James as he walks through the club.

  11:27 p.m. Holy shit guys! The future Verhena is here too!

  This post is a picture of me, my back and hawk tattoo front and center.

  11:50 p.m. OMG!!! James and the Verhena are here together! And it’s serious!!!

  The picture with the last post sends a flash of heat through me. It’s me baring my neck to James. He is bent over me, about to slide his tongue up my neck. She must have taken this seconds before I froze the club.

  I hand the phone back to Whitney without saying anything. The whole point of tonight was to be seen, but I feel like my privacy has been invaded. My most intimate moment is now plastered all over the internet.

  Whitney scrolls through the posts again. “We have to send Marley flowers or something. She did exactly what we needed her to do.”

  No one says anything in response.

  Not one to enjoy silence, Whitney continues talking. “Great job you guys!” she says looking at me and James, then back at the pictures. “You totally look like a couple. And you Chloe, baring your neck like that, genius!”

  James narrows his eyes from across the aisle, then stares out the window.

  I should correct Whitney and tell her it wasn’t an act, but I need to talk to James in private. I don’t want to announce how I feel about him in front of Whitney and Frank.

  I lean my head back against the seat and close my eyes until we get home. When we pull up to the curb, all I can think about is getting to the Guard’s operations center so I can stop the pounding in my head.

  We file out of the car and into the building. James doesn’t come anywhere near me. He won’t even look me in the eye. Maybe everything in the club was an act for him. Maybe he doesn’t care about me at all. I’m so upset by the thought of this, I tear up.

  As soon as the elevator doors open, I rush out. Sherman is waiting for me and we go to a conference room. He shuts the door behind us and puts his hand to my forehead.

  “You’ve run yourself very low.”

  “I know. I used a lot of magic tonight.”

  “Take deep breaths and I’ll do the rest.”

  I follow Sherman’s instructions and the pounding in my head dulls. It gets weaker and weaker until it’s gone.