by Hettie Ivers
“Dunno.” She rolled one shoulder. “Didn’t ask.”
I snorted. “Good call. Why ask, right? God forbid you bring someone home who might stick around for a while.”
Sometimes my mouth was miles ahead of my brain. Particularly when I was drinking and possibly semi-hallucinating. As it was dawning on me what I’d just said, a high-pitched peal of laughter burst from Kendall.
“I—I didn’t mean that,” I stammered. “Ken, that was a bad joke. I’m sorry.”
She shook her head and waved me off, still laughing. “Girl, it’s fine. I know who I am and what my emotional limitations are. You’re right. I’m not looking for someone who’ll stick around. That narrative has never gone well for me.”
I groaned and covered my face with my hands. I was an idiot. “Swear I didn’t mean it that way … it’s just that I worry about you because of the stuff with your mom and all.”
“Oh, honey.” She took her lip between her teeth. One finely shaped supermodel brow arched over the pitying eyes she fixed on me. “When was the last time you heard from your dad directly and not through the assistant he has call you on your birthday?”
Ouch. I swallowed past the cotton lining my throat. And now my eyes felt funny from the green fairy drink. “You’re right. Look, I’m sorry—”
“Noooo,” she cooed. “No, no, no. I don’t want you to be sorry. It’s just … I don’t believe our issues are as different as you like to think. Lauren, some of us choose to be alone while having a warm body next to us. And some of us choose to be alone while going through the motions of dating and pretending we haven’t already made the choice to be alone.”
I stared blankly at her, thinking how much her eyes resembled the color of absinthe right now, and wondering which of us was drunker. Her assessment made no sense. Did it?
“What are you talking about? When have I ever wanted to be alone? I go out of my way to try and make time for stupid dates.”
“Exactly. Making time for ‘stupid dates.’ You force yourself to go through the motions, but you never go on dates with anyone you’re actually attracted to. You told me two nights ago right before your date with Dustin that you got a ‘throw-up taste’ in your mouth at the thought of kissing him.”
“Not fair. I get that with nearly everyone I go out with.”
“I rest my case.”
“How can you even say this to me right now when my last three dates were attacked by some rabid wolf? When I’ve just been labeled the black widow of our campus? You’re acting like my unbelievably bad dating luck is somehow my fault.”
She held her forefinger up. “One sec.” She pulled her phone from her back pocket. After some quick tapping and scrolling, she flipped the phone’s screen in my direction, holding it right in front of me as she revealed a photo of me from this afternoon outside our dorm: being pulled tug-of-war style between Kai and Michael.
“Who sent that to you?”
“Who do you think?”
“Margo.”
“Yep.”
I slapped my palm against the bar. “She is such a fucking busybody.”
“Who cares about Margo? What I want to know is where in the world did these two gorgeous guys come from and why have you never mentioned either of them to me before?”
“Text me that photo, ’kay? I want a copy. Is that the only one she sent or are there more?” Having a photo to remember my Stranger-Danger by—even one that was a little blurry because it’d been taken from Margo’s window on the second floor—gave me a sense of peace I hadn’t felt all afternoon since my devastating kiss with Kai.
“It’s just the one. Why haven’t you mentioned either of these guys before? Why in fuck haven’t you gone out with them?”
I shook my head. “There’s a simple explanation for that, actually. One of those guys I only saw for the first time this afternoon, and the other one only spoke to me for the first time this afternoon to tell me he was too old for me and that he was leaving the country and I’d never see him again.” I held my palms up. “And I rest my case.”
“Uh-uh. Fail. Why haven’t you made plans yet to go out with the one who isn’t leaving the country?”
“Who says I haven’t?”
“Have you?”
“Jesus, you’re as pushy as Babs.”
“Ask him out.”
“No. We share a class that meets twice a week.”
Kendall gasped and covered her mouth with her fingertips. “Oh, my, what a scandal that would cause. No one dates anyone they have classes with when they’re in college.”
“Oh, shut up and give me the code to the employee bathroom downstairs. I’ve had to pee for the past twenty minutes, and the line to the ladies room up here isn’t getting any shorter.”
“Agree to ask him out.”
“I will soil this barstool, Kendall,” I threatened.
“Fine. Fine. Careful you don’t trip on any floating balls of light on your way down there.”
I could’ve sworn I’d seen him sitting at the corner of the bar upstairs as I’d climbed off my stool, so my heart seized when, after descending the steps to the cellar and turning down the hallway that led to the bar’s storerooms and the bathroom, I found the lovechild of Chris Hemsworth and Theo James standing there, no more than twenty paces away, blocking my path.
How had Emil beaten me to the basement? What was he doing down here anyhow? I couldn’t imagine Kendall or Travis giving him the code to the employee bathroom. What for? It’s not like there was ever a line to the men’s room upstairs.
Damn. Kendall had been right: he was positively massive standing up. Also scary-looking as hell.
He inclined his head to me in greeting, and a shiver ran down my spine. There was absolutely something off about him—about the entire situation. Why was he just standing there, blocking my path?
Don’t be paranoid—say something!
But I couldn’t. I was struck mute as a sense of foreboding overcame me. I tried to dismiss it as the absinthe influencing my brain, but every instinct in me said to run back up the stairs. I resisted, not wanting to make a complete fool out of myself. So I stood there staring at him at twenty paces instead—making a fool out of myself.
And then the visions hit me. Visions of Emil—the man in front of me. I saw confusing, random flashes of him yelling at a younger version of my Granny Nina. I couldn’t make out their words, but I sensed he was threatening her, and that she was very much afraid of him. The visions made no sense, though, and I knew it had to be the absinthe—or completely false retrocognition—since the man before me was far too young to have ever interacted with my grandma when she’d been a young woman.
It’s not real. You’re hallucinating again.
I was about to shake it off and proceed to the bathroom, when a jolt of electric current coursed through my limbs and I heard my deceased grandmother’s voice in my head, clear as day. “Turn around, Lauren. Turn around and run.”
I’d never done drugs in my life. Well, aside from the Van Gogh bev of choice I’d imbibed tonight. And not counting that one time I’d tried pot. Okay, so maybe it was more like two—or eleven—times. And sure, I’d dropped Molly twice during my senior year of high school, but none of that could possibly account for this.
Hearing and seeing random spirits was one thing. Never had I heard my Granny Nina’s voice in my head before. I’d never seen or sensed any sign of her undeparted spirit until tonight. My grandma wasn’t the type to stay and haunt the living. No seer was. Seers knew better. It was strict seer code to never stay behind.
“Run, Lauren!” Granny Nina’s voice urged me again, louder this time—as loudly as if she were standing right next to me in the hallway, just as the fluorescent lights began flickering above.
I was so spooked, I spun on my heel and bolted without looking, and I slammed straight into my new classmate, Michael Fulton.
“Whoa!” Michael caught me in his arms. “So we meet again,” he said, grinning down
at me. “I hope you’re not rushing off. I just got here.”
Words failed me as relief flooded my system, coalescing with the fresh spike of adrenaline in my veins, and causing me to feel lightheaded. My fingers latched onto the material of his peacoat, and Michael’s arms tightened around me—tighter than was probably necessary.
Under normal bar-scene circumstances, the move might’ve put me off. But right now I welcomed it, given the scary Viking at my back. Michael may not have been as big as Thor, but he wasn’t exactly small in stature, either. And he felt like pure solid muscle pressed up against me. As irrational and nonsensical as all of this likely was, I couldn’t deny that Michael’s arrival had instantly made me feel safer.
“You okay?” He asked it casually, with a slight chuckle, yet the grey eyes that searched mine seemed to reflect a measure of genuine concern. “I know Emil can be quite the scary beast.” He jerked his chin in indication of the man behind me.
Emil. Michael knew him?
Feeling foolish for panicking over nothing, I straightened and tried to pull away from Michael. His arms relaxed around me, but not enough to let me get far. “I just—I forgot something upstairs … I mean at home. I have to go to—”
“I have as much a right to access her mind as you have, Michael.”
I jumped and pressed closer to Michael at the sound of the deep, German-accented voice behind me—directly behind me. He’d pronounced Michael as Mi-kale.
“Do you now?” Michael challenged.
While I was left wondering what the devil Emil could’ve meant by his bizarre mind-accessing statement, Michael pulled me around to his side, anchoring me firmly against him beneath the weight of his right arm. Once again, under normal circumstances, I might’ve objected to such manhandling. But not now, when I saw that Emil was right in front of us—standing far too close for my comfort, given how angry he looked.
“Lauren, you’ll have to excuse Emil. His grasp of the English language has long been lacking.”
Emil’s features twisted in affront at Michael’s insult, and right before my eyes, the blue of his irises began to take on a strange amber glow. But Michael took hold of my chin with the fingers of his left hand and forced my wide eyes away from Emil’s. “Right here,” he said, tipping my chin up until I met his gaze. The moment our eyes connected, I felt woozy and disoriented—like a second shot of absinthe I hadn’t remembered taking was just now kicking in.
My thoughts suddenly felt like they were spinning inside a tunnel with no discernible direction. I was drunker than I’d thought. But I also wasn’t afraid anymore. At all. Of anything. Which struck me as odd when I tried to focus on it. But focusing was too hard, so I abandoned the effort.
“Emil and I will speak in Alsatian now,” Michael told me. “Then I’ll see you home safely.”
It wasn’t a question, but I said “okay” and nodded my head, because somehow it all made perfect sense to me. Michael’s lips curved softly in response, and more fear evaporated from me. I was certain I’d overreacted before. It’d definitely been the absinthe. I relaxed, allowing my body to sag against Michael’s and resting my cheek against the lapel of his peacoat as he and Emil proceeded to converse in another language.
I wondered how long they’d known one another. I got the sense it’d been a while. Although I didn’t understand what they were saying, I could tell it was a pretty heated argument they were having. Michael’s tone didn’t sound nearly as angry or as threatening as Emil’s, but I could feel his anger—the coiling tension in his body. At one point, it grew so intense that I tightened my arms around him in a reassuring hug and murmured something about everything being okay. He stiffened in surprise at first, but then he gave me a little squeeze in return, and I heard his voice inside my head promising that he would never let Emil hurt me.
That’s when I decided for certain that absinthe should probably still be illegal. First my grandma’s voice, and now Michael’s inside my head? Obviously, I was high as an ’effing kite.
12
Kai
7 hours ago …
I’d begun to shake with the effort it took to hold my wolf in check. Lauren’s life depended on me keeping my wits about me and thinking this through.
Emil coming here was bad news. The absolute worst, in fact, because I was hard-pressed to think of anyone on the planet who desired my suffering more than Emil Bahr, the Alpha of the Alsace pack.
Mike was talking to me, but it was difficult to hear anything beyond the blood pounding in my ears and the “Kill them all!” roar of my wolf in my head.
“Someone needs to stay and protect her, Kai. And we both know your presence and attention to the seer will only incite Emil to murder her. Or worse. For Lauren’s safety, you have to leave. If Emil were to witness your wolf’s territorial responses the way that I did this afternoon, he would stop at nothing to harm her.”
It was true. Emil’s unparalleled hatred for me made him a far greater threat to Lauren than Mike or Raul. And Emil had never abided by the rules of conduct—loose and unenforced as they were—where interaction with seers was concerned. He’d been known to do far worse than intimidate and abuse them. Several had died at his hands. Emil suffered a childish temper and was prone to acts of senseless violence.
As an Alpha, Emil shared similar qualities with Alex Reinoso, Milena’s mate and the former Alpha of our pack. Like Alex, Emil was by nature selfish and egotistical, and he preferred to let others do his job for him whenever possible. I knew Emil’s responsibilities often fell to his father and his brother as a result. Emil only got involved when it was personal. Coming to Washington to check out the situation with a potential new seer was something Emil should have considered far beneath his station.
Mike was still talking at me—reciting points I already knew. “Emil has despised you for well over a century. He’s never forgiven you for stealing Maribel away from him. The fact that you survived Maribel’s passing has been the ultimate salt in his black heart’s festering wound for one hundred and eight years now.”
This was my fault. I’d lured this new danger to Lauren. Emil’s men had been here weeks ago. Briefly. I’d forced myself to keep my distance from Lauren while they’d observed the seer, and I’d been thankful when they’d departed as quickly as they’d come.
Or had they? Had I been so preoccupied managing my wolf’s violent lust for the girl that I’d become sloppy? I’d screwed up by staying too long, by paying too much undue attention to Lauren. In my gut, I knew Emil had to be coming here because of me, seeking a means to satisfy his childish thirst for revenge any way that he could—even if it meant harming a helpless, innocent young seer.
“Emil slaughtered several seers years ago just for reminding him of the promise he made to Maribel about never killing you. As I’m sure you know, it was her parting message to him and everyone else for whom the promise applied.”
My jaw tightened. I suppressed the growl that wanted to escape. “Yes. I am aware.”
“The guy’s a psycho.”
He’d get no argument from me on that. As much as I hated to admit it, Mike was right: Lauren would be safer if I left. It would gut me to ask Alex for his help, but I couldn’t leave Lauren’s protection to Mike and the Salvatella pack. So this would also mean exposing Lauren’s importance to Alex and Milena, which I hadn’t been prepared to do yet. There was a chance it could put the seer in even greater danger—particularly if our pack took a stand to protect Lauren against Emil. Unfortunately, I was out of other options.
“Now, I can keep Lauren safe from Emil if he only views her as a new seer. But if your wolf shows up and starts pissing all over her in front of him, it’s going to get a lot harder to hold him off, and the politics of the entire situation are bound to turn complicated fast.”
I couldn’t withhold my huff of derision. “You think you can protect Lauren from Emil? Mike, I realize your contemporaries might sit in awe of your lineage, but you should know, I met your grandfather on
ce during his short life. I believe Emil did as well. Those among us who interacted with your grandfather in the flesh know that you will never in this lifetime amass the power and skill to be his equal.”
Mike’s grey eyes bled to glowing amber, even though he chuckled softly in the face of my slight. “Well, I’m sure you’re right. But you might do well to remember that nearly everyone who ever knew my grandfather horribly underestimated not only his power, his skill, and the extent of his ruthless cunning, but also his penchant for concealing the breadth of those qualities.”
Touché. The kid had a point.
“You are welcome to underestimate me, Kai. I welcome the same from Emil—your contemporary.” He spat the last as the insult it was intended to be. “I may even be counting on it.”
Emil’s father, Helmut, was actually more my contemporary than Emil, but I didn’t bother to correct Mike. “As I’ve already told you, I’m leaving. But in light of Emil coming here, I will be sending members of my own pack to protect Lauren in my stead.”
Mike shook his head. “Bad call. Emil has been furious with Milena and your pack ever since his father came back from Round Rock six months ago and informed him of how things went down. Emil wants Milena’s head for lying to him—for misrepresenting Maribel’s final words in the ether about the Rogue needing to be destroyed above all else—in order to convince Emil to side with Milena … against Sloane.”
“I’m aware of how Emil views it, but Milena didn’t lie. She told Emil and Helmut the truth of Maribel’s desire to see the Rogue eliminated.”
“Right,” Mike dismissed with an eye-roll, “just not the whole truth. Believe me, I get it. It’s a familial pattern I’m well versed in. Regardless, the facts are Milena knew how Emil felt about Maribel, and Milena knew Sloane was Maribel’s reincarnation, yet she personally lobbied to gain Emil’s pack’s support against Sloane anyway.”