by M H Soars
An attractive guy with coal-black hair and equally dark eyes is sitting opposite me. His high cheekbones are sharp enough to cut glass.
“Hey, Martin. You made it.” Kenya sits next to me, and I suddenly find myself in the middle of a human sandwich. “Red, this is Martin. I met him this morning when he came over to introduce himself to my mother.”
“I’ve always thought it was smart to let the local authorities know who you are, especially in small towns.” Martin flashes Kenya a grin, but his eyes don’t have any warmth in them. If the sun wasn’t out, I’d think he was a vampire. He certainly has the looks.
“Yeah, very smart.” Kenya bobs her head up and down in emphasis. It’s like she lost her ability to make intelligent comments.
“And how did you meet Martin, Kenya?” I ask.
She waves her hand, throwing her long hair off her shoulder. A total Kenya move when she’s interested in someone. “I was lucky to be standing next to my mother when he came over.”
“And she was kind enough to invite me to meet her friends.” Martin smiles at Kenya, full of teeth now, but it’s even more chilling than his toothless grin from before. Why am I having such a strong reaction to this guy?
“He just moved into the old Miller’s home,” Kenya continues, unaware I’m watching her new friend intently.
“Oh? That’s a fix-upper, isn’t it?” I ask.
He shrugs. “I don’t mind. I like to use my hands.”
Kenya and Sonya sigh simultaneously, reminding me of the girls who were in love with Gaston in the Beauty and the Beast movie. Okay, I get it. He’s pretty enough to be on the cover of a magazine, but there’s something off about the guy that I can’t quite place.
“Where are you from, Martin?” I start to play with the salt and pepper shakers on the table to keep my hands occupied.
“Milwaukee, originally, but I lived in Chicago for the past ten years before deciding I needed a change.”
“Red is from Chicago, too,” Sonya says, and I wish she hadn’t opened her mouth.
“Oh yeah?” Martin stares at me, curiosity shining in his eyes. “What brought you to Crimson Hollow?”
“Family.” I don’t elaborate. His intense stare is giving me the creeps.
Leticia, who is sitting next to him, touches his arm to get his attention. Next to me, Kenya stiffens. I do the same. Kenya is getting tense because she has competition. Adrenaline is spiking in my veins for entirely different reasons. Martin has a tattoo on his neck, the exact same raven the hunters in the forest did. My blood turns cold. It’s just too much of a coincidence. Hunters invade our forest… and now this guy shows up sporting the same tattoo? He must be one of them.
“Kenya, could you please let me out? I need to use the restroom.”
“Yeah, sure.”
Out of the booth, I make a beeline toward the restroom, pulling my cell phone out of my bag. Then, like an idiot, I remember that I never exchanged digits with Tristan, or any of the brothers for that matter. Oh my God, I’m such a dimwit.
“Hey, having phone trouble?”
I jump, finding Martin standing right in front of me.
“What?”
“You were looking at your phone like it had insulted you or something.”
“No, nothing of the sort.” I hastily put my phone back in the bag, wincing a little when the brusque movement jolts the wound on my shoulder. Come to think about it, why is it not healed yet? All the other times I got hurt, it hadn’t taken more than a few hours for the wound to knit back together. I file that realization away, intending to ask Dr. Mervina later.
“Are you hurt?” Martin asks.
Damn it. He’s too observant, but considering he’s probably part of a sadistic group hell-bent on killing my people, it’s not surprising.
My people. I’ve never thought of the wolves as such until now.
“I pulled a muscle while I was at the gym. Nothing major.”
“You have to be careful. Always warm-up before workouts.” There’s an easygoing smile on his lips, but I can see clearly as day the hint of danger in his eyes. No wonder I was getting bad vibes from him from the get-go.
“For sure. I have to go.” I edge around him, my heart beating so fast there’s a chance it might leap out of my mouth.
At the door, I wave at Kenya, trying to catch her attention. She frowns when she sees I’m about to head out. I make the sign that I’ll call her later, then I bolt. I have to find Tristan.
Chapter 27
Tristan
Why would an imp choose to run a bakery? The smell of sugar and vanilla immediately assaults my senses the moment I enter his busy shop. There are two girls working at the counter, both one-hundred percent human. I wonder what they would think if they knew they worked for a demon. The youngest of the duo, a teenager with red hair and freckles all over her face, beams a smile in my direction.
“I’ll be right with you, sir.”
“I’m actually looking for Zeke. Is he around?”
“Yes, he’s in the back.”
A door behind the counter opens, and out comes the owner of the place, the infamous Zeke Rogers. With light blond hair and baby-blue eyes, he looks more like an angel than the opposite. But all that’s needed is a cursory glance into his eyes to see the glint of malice and mischief there.
“Tristan Wolfe, to what do I owe the pleasure of your visit? Come looking for a special cake?” The imp smiles, knowing full well I didn’t come for cake.
“May I have a word with you in private?”
Zeke raises both eyebrows, and the cunning in his gaze becomes even more acute. I have to be on high alert here. The imp is notorious for trying to trick people into bargains that only benefit himself.
“Naturally. Come with me.” He motions for me to come behind the counter, then I follow him to his back office. The smell of sweet treats becomes even more unbearable as we get near the kitchen.
“How can you stand the smell?” I cover my nose.
“Trust me, my friend. After centuries trapped in a cell in the bowels of an underworld dungeon, the sweet scent of sugar, cake, and chocolate is absolutely divine.”
Well, he has me there. Not that I know from experience what such a place must smell like, but I can’t imagine it’s anything pleasant. With flourish, Zeke opens the door to his office, which looks like it was decorated by a five-year-old girl. It’s an explosion of pastel colors, bright and cheery, fully capable of blinding me if I stare at them for too long.
“Good Lord,” I say.
Zeke sits behind his glass desk, motioning for me to sit on a chair that’s painted in silvery glitter with a fucking unicorn horn sticking out of its back. “You’re joking, right?”
“What? Unicorns are lovely creatures. Very docile. They also taste delicious.” Zeke smirks, amusement dancing in his eyes.
“Well, I don’t want to take up too much of your time. I’ve come about something I’d like your opinion on.”
Zeke leans back in his chair, folding his hands together. “My demonic opinion?”
I grunt, shifting slightly. “What other opinion would I need? Cake frosting?”
“Well, you know I left the dark side a long time ago. What are you willing to offer in exchange?”
“How about I don’t kick your sparkly ass?”
“Such violence. And I’m the biggest supporter of the pack.”
“You don’t support anyone if it doesn’t suit your interests.” I narrow my eyes, contemplating what I can give the imp that will satisfy him. Then I decide to give him a bit of gossip, knowing full well he’s worse than the old church ladies in town.
“We’ve had trespassers—hunters—in our area.”
Zeke’s spine goes taut as he sits straighter in his chair. “We haven’t had hunters in Crimson Hollow since the time following the Thirteen Days of Chaos.”
“I know.”
“I take it you haven’t told anyone about it, not even Mayor Montgomery.”
Zeke rubs his chin, peering at me through narrowed eyes. “True. I’ve heard she’s giving you a hard time. Some land dispute with the Shadow Creek pack.”
“How do you—never mind. What I have to show you relates to the hunters.”
“Okay, okay. You’ve got me intrigued. I won’t ask you for a return favor. Show me what you’ve got.”
I pull the device we found on the hunters from my pocket, then place it in the middle of the desk. Zeke grabs it with eager hands, turning it from side to side, examining every corner of the small silver box. “I’m sorry, but what am I looking at here?”
“We believe it’s some kind of mind-control device, but we’re not sure.”
“Dude, no offense, but I’m not an expert in electronics. Have you tried that guy from the hardware store?”
I don’t bother telling Zeke I’ve already gone to Peter. “I know you aren’t a techie guy. I want to know if you sense any traces of magic in it.”
“Nope. I sense nichts, nothing, nada.”
He hands the object over, but it’s too soon for me to feel any type of relief. I pull the other device, the one we found on the rogue from Shadow Creek, out. “How about this one?”
Zeke takes the device from my hand, and I immediately know it’s different with this one. His blue eyes change into an electric purple, and the irises start to swirl. His skin tone changes as well, acquiring a greenish tint. I realize I’m seeing his true demonic form.
My nostrils flare, and my gums begin to ache as my canines elongate. Sensing a malefic energy whoosh from the device and spread throughout the room, I jump out of the chair, ready to shift if necessary.
“What the fuck is going on?”
“Did the hunter also have this?” Zeke doesn’t take his eyes from the device.
“No.”
With a shudder, he drops the device on his desk. It clinks against the glass surface, the evil presence I felt dispersing.
“What the hell happened here, Zeke?”
Breathing hard and with eyes as round as saucers, Zeke keeps staring at the device as if it’s going to come to life. At least his skin is no longer green, and the electric purple irises changed back to blue.
“Something extremely evil and powerful touched that thing.” The imp shudders.
“A demon?” I ask.
“Not any demon. An archdemon.”
Not wanting Zeke to touch the damned object again, I remove it from his sight, shoving it in my jeans pocket. To say I’m not a little afraid to carry it now would be a lie. I fucking hate demons.
“What are you going to do with that?” Zeke asks.
“I don’t know.”
“I’ll give you a piece of free advice.” His tone is solemn, unusual for the guy, and it has my undivided attention. “Destroy it. Burn it with sacred fire.”
I clench my jaw because the only supes with the power to summon sacred fire are the witches. And I’m not going to them for help.
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
Chapter 28
Dante
“Mom, what’s going on with Dad? He hasn’t been the same since he returned from his trip to Vancouver.”
She has her head down, busy writing in a small notebook. She glances up with eyes full of sadness. “I don’t know, Dante. At first, I thought his strange behavior was due to my revelation. I should have never told him I saw his death.” She sighs, her shoulders sagging. “But he was going on that trip to Vancouver, and I was afraid something was going to happen there. I wanted him to be prepared.”
“But he said the meeting was fine. Even Valerius, the new Shadow Creek alpha, was on his best behavior.”
Mom rests her head in her hands. “A fact that’s strange and suspicious by itself. The Shadow Creek wolves are notorious for creating trouble during those alpha meetings.”
“Dad was always so centered and fair. I honestly don’t recognize him anymore. The alpha I knew would have never forced Red into that challenge with Rochelle, or be willing to kill her without knowing what happened in the forest.”
“You haven’t seen anything in your visions?” There’s a hopeful tone in Mom’s voice, and I hate that I can’t give her what she needs—peace of mind that Dad will be okay.
I shake my head. “No. I haven’t had any visions since the one about Red.”
Mom lets out a shaky breath. “The sight has deserted me, too.”
“Have you tried calling to it?” Mom has the power to do it, to call upon visions instead of waiting for them to happen spontaneously. I’ve never been able to summon the sight at will.
“Yes, many times. All I see is a big void.”
The door to Mom’s office in the clinic bursts open. Dad comes in, practically foaming at the mouth with the veins on his forehead bulging. “Where is she?”
His body is shaking, and his hands are balled into fists by his side. Blind rage seems to have overtaken him.
“Who? Amelia?” Mom asks in confusion.
“Who else? I told Seth to go fetch the girl, but he just informed me that she has left the compound with Tristan.”
Mom and I trade a worried glance before she stands, resting her open palms on her desk. Leaning forward, she narrows her eyes. “We spoke about this, Anthony. You agreed to let Tristan take Red away until we can do a proper investigation of the events in the forest. Her presence here might incite some of the more restless wolves.”
Incredulity takes over Dad’s expression. His scowl turns into something akin to embarrassment. “I don’t remember agreeing to that.”
There’s a moment of silence. Mom is clearly speaking to Dad mind to mind. The tension slowly leaves his body. Not wanting to bring his anger back with my presence, I slip out of Mom’s office. There’s nothing I can do for him that Mom can’t do better. She’s his mate after all, and has the strongest connection to him. My chest feels unbearably heavy as I leave the alpha’s manor. I fear a big shift is coming, one I didn’t foresee happening any time soon.
In my distraction, I fail to notice Lyria’s approach until she’s right in front of me, blocking the way. Rochelle is behind her, her posture saying she doesn’t want to be there. Other than that, she seems fine, no side effects from her challenge with Red.
“What do you want?” I snap at Lyria.
“I want to know what the fuck is going on. Why did Tristan take that bitch with him after the stunt she pulled during the challenge?”
Clenching my jaw hard, I bite my tongue so as to not literally bite Lyria’s head off.
Rochelle switches her weight from foot to foot in a fidgety motion, keeping her gaze glued to the ground.
“That’s none of your concern,” I say, trying my best to keep my voice down.
“None of my concern? I’m still the pack’s beta, or have I been demoted without being informed? With the way things are going in this pack, I wouldn’t be surprised.”
“If you were a true beta, your biggest concern right now would be to secure the area and make sure there aren’t more hunters around, not to worry about who Tristan is with.”
Lyria takes a step forward, baring her sharp teeth at me. “How dare you question my position in the pack? While you were busy doing God knows what, I dispatched our enforcers. They’ve found no trace of any hunters.”
“Good. Now get out of my way. I have better things to do than waste my time with you.”
Lyria narrows her eyes, nostrils flaring. “You think you’re so special because you have your mother’s gift. But your days of privilege might be coming to an end.”
“What’s that supposed to mean? Are you threatening me?” I take a menacing step toward her. Beta or not, if she doesn’t back the fuck down, I’ll make her do it by force if necessary.
“Why don’t you use your special powers to find out?” The woman sneers, then swings around and strides away.
Good. Walk away, Lyria.
Rochelle watches her go. Only when Lyria disappears inside the building across the courtyard does she look in my direction. “Lyria feels her position in the pack is in jeopardy.”
“She’s not wrong,” I say, but immediately berate myself for letting that statement slip. We don’t need more gossip circulating. I know the wolves are restless. With Dad acting so out of character, fights will erupt soon enough and mayhem will commence. Wolves need a strong alpha at the realm.
“Is Red the Mother of Wolves?” Rochelle’s question catches me off guard.
I watch her more closely now, even daring to nudge her mind, trying to get a peek at her thoughts. I stop short of forcing my way in. I’m not a cad. I don’t sense any malice from the enforcer, but I’m still on high alert.
“What? Where did you get that from?”
“When we were fighting, I sensed her power. She would have won the fight if she hadn’t been plagued by that warning.”
“What do you know about her warning?” I take a step in her direction, suspicion bringing forth the aggressive nature of my wolf.
“For a moment, I saw what Red did. I felt the pain of the fallen wolf. That’s why I collapsed during the challenge. I don’t know how she did that, but my grandmother used to tell me stories about the Mother of Wolves. She brought peace to the shifters in the New World.”
“I know about the legends, but what makes you think Red is the Mother of Wolves?”
“She connected with a wolf outside our pack. I know she wasn’t changed by one of us, but she was able to link mind to mind with us, the same way she was able to hear the dying wolf’s pleas from across a great distance.”
The enforcer widens her eyes as her tone of voice becomes more and more excited. She truly believes Red is the Mother of Wolves, a truth I can’t share with anyone yet. Rochelle is lower in rank than Lyria. If that odious woman asks her what she knows, she won’t be able to keep the truth from the beta.
“The Mother of Wolves is a legend, Rochelle. Nothing but a legend.”