“You’re busy.”
“Cleaning house,” he said.
His version of cleaning house usually involved bloody fights and sometimes death. Scratch that… it often included death. He’d killed the previous Alpha, a pretty, plastic-looking piece by the name of Annette. She had looked like a Barbie doll, all big blue eyes, big round boobs and blonde hair and she had been one of the most brutal bitches I’d ever encountered in my life. And I’ve encountered more than my share.
Annette had ruled over the cat clan in East Orlando and the entire southern region with a tiny, iron fist for more than a century, well before the non-human population had been forced to come out of the proverbial closet. She’d also been certifiably insane. A few months ago, she’d hired me to find her nephew after he’d gone missing. If I failed to find Doyle, she’d kill me—I found that out after the fact. One of the reasons I was trying to learn caution.
At the end of it all, I found Doyle. Annette ended up dead. And I ended up with Damon. It hadn’t turned out badly, I guess, but he was still doing clean up—a necessity, according to Damon.
Annette had been crazy. Batshit crazy, and cruel with it. Like often attracted like, so he was going through and making sure the crazy and cruel that had been left behind were handled.
He wouldn’t kill them unless he had to, but they would still need to be ousted from any positions of power in the clan, which tended to require thorough beatings to accomplish. Weres didn’t back down willingly. It took physical force.
Sometimes he came to me so battered, I barely recognized him. It only lasted for a few hours, thanks to the amazing biology of a were. The virus in his genes healed wounds that would kill humans—or a half-human like me—only slowed him down and minor things like cuts or scratches disappeared in seconds.
I heard another grunt come across the line. “This is a bad time. I’ll be quick.”
“Nah. Chang and Doyle are with me. We’re mostly done. This is the last of it and I’m letting Doyle handle it. He needs to get the shine off him.” There was another grunt, followed by a roar that hurt my ears even through the phone. “We’re just about done here. Only a few hours away. Have dinner with me tonight?”
“Can’t.” As I passed around the desk, I grabbed my sword and nudged the cooling unit with my foot. “I’m going to be out of town for a few days—courier thing to the Smokies. MacDonald with the wolves is paying me to deliver some heads.”
“Ah, gimme a second.”
I heard a roar—I recognized that one, a deep, barking sort of roar, unlike anything a lion or tiger would make. Damon’s creature was a leopard, a rare one, although very few realized just how rare he was. I knew. I had no idea if anybody else did. Chang might. But for all I knew, that was it.
A few seconds and one scream later, and he was back on the phone. “Did you just say you were delivering some heads?”
“Yes. Literally. Seventy-five hundred dollars to deliver two decapitated heads to a small pack in the Smokies.”
Silence stretched out, sharp as a blade and even over the phone line, I could feel his tension. Finally, he blew out a rough breath. “Don’t leave yet. I can’t go with you—I’m supposed to attend the next Assembly session, but I’m sending Chang with you. He can be there in two hours.”
Sighing, I glanced out the window. All the wolves were standing in line, waiting. Well, everybody but Megan. She was hauling a bag from the trunk of the Audi nearest my car. “I can’t wait. I told them I’d hit the road immediately.”
Another one of those taut, heavy silences. It grated on my nerves and I pushed my hand through my hair. The pale blonde mess fell back into my face and I made a mental note to get it cut. Not that I’d remember. “Damon, look…this is my job. I was doing it a long time before I met you, remember?” Then I made a face and shot a look out the window at Megan. “Besides, I’m not even going on my own. That son-of-a-bitch is sending a babysitter with me. One of his lieutenants is tagging along.”
“That isn’t precisely settling my mind,” he said, a growl edging into his voice.
I stroked my hand down the grip of my blade and turned away from the window. “I don’t have time for this. They’re out in the parking lot and my-shadow-cum-baby-sitter is smirking like this is all very amusing to her.”
“Her?”
Making a face at the phone, I said, “Yes. Her.”
“He’s sending Megan.”
“Yes.” Some of the tension had faded from his voice. I knew him well enough to figure out just what had caused at least some of the tension. My inner child lurks very close to the surface at times and she escaped my grasp before I could stop her. “I tried to get him to send that big piece of meat in a suit, but I don’t think he likes me.”
“Piece of meat?”
“Yeah.” Rocking back on my heels, I stared at the wolf in question and smiled. “I think he’d like to be you, but he’s not doing a good job of it. Still, I thought he’d make interesting conversation—”
“Kit. Are you trying to make me kill somebody?”
I laughed. “No. If I wanted to do that, I’d discuss something other than his conversation skills.” I glanced around my office one more time. There were still weapons on the wall I’d love to take with me, but I wasn’t exactly going to face an army. It was just one small pack. “Damon, try to remember…I can handle myself. I’ve got a job to do, okay?”
“I know you can handle yourself,” he said, and that growl was back in his voice. “There’s just a very fucked-up pack in the mountains there. Didn’t he bother to inform you of that fact?”
I kicked the unit again. “I’ve lived in East Orlando for years. How much worse can that wolf pack be?” I asked. I didn’t bother mentioning the reason he was cleaning up was because of the crazy bitch he had killed. “Damon…I was taking care of myself for a long time before you came into my life, remember? My job isn’t exactly one where I teach school kids all day or work in a factory line. I deal with your kind on a regular basis. I haven’t died yet.”
“Damn it.” He bit the words off like he was trying to tear them apart. Then, finally, after another terse, heavy silence, he said, “Stay safe, baby girl.”
Ten seconds after I disconnected, there was a polite knock at the door. Polite…these wolves did everything so politely.
“Come on in.”
Megan came inside, duffel bag in hand. “May I use your restroom? I need to change.”
* * * * *
Well…one thing about this job, the extras were posh.
The rental car was a sleek, sexy little Roadster, a classic made back sometime around 2015 or so. It clung to the road like a lover and I kind of wanted to cry when I thought about giving her up. The cooling unit was tucked away out of sight and I could almost pretend I was just out for a nice, long, solo drive.
As long as I didn’t look in the rearview mirror.
Megan was trailing behind me, perched on a wicked-ass motorcycle, clad in leathers from head to toe.
She hadn’t been more than twenty feet away from me this entire trip, not when we stopped to eat, not when we decided to stop for the night. If I’d gotten out of Orlando earlier in the day, we could have made it through South Carolina sooner, but it wasn’t going to happen.
Once it got close to twilight, I decided to stop because of the threat of vamps.
Megan had deemed that a wise move.
I was so happy to have impressed her.
Seriously, everybody seemed to think I was completely reckless but I’m not.
I wasn’t exactly familiar with the problems going on in the mountains in Tennessee, and I’d even taken some time to check, making some calls as I drove. I didn’t get a whole lot of solid information—that was weird. I put in a call to Banner—Bureau of American Non-Human Affairs . Banner is the government’s answer to dealing with NH affairs when they weren’t happy with how things were going.
If anybody should have info on the Smoky Mountain pack, it wa
s Banner.
But my normal contact wasn’t available and my other one wasn’t particularly forthcoming.
Weird. Okay, so I left a message with the one man I knew would get back to me and tried to piece things around in my head, but there was only so much you could do with next to no pieces.
One thing I was familiar with…South Carolina. Vamp infestation from hell. The US government had a mandatory curfew, one that had been in place and would remain in place indefinitely since nobody was having luck curbing the vamp problem. I’d heard rumors the government was considering a tactical strike that would wipe out most of the state if they couldn’t clean the area up soon.
It was safe enough during daylight hours and many of the humans had already left, but it was still not the most ideal place to be. Getting inside the state border wasn’t much more difficult than it would be to go to oh…say…Canada. ID, explanation of business and other assorted shit.
The older vamps claimed they were doing what they could to bring the problem under control but there was no way I was driving through South Carolina at night to deliver a couple of heads. The damn things could stay on ice for a little while longer. They weren’t getting any deader, right?
The plan was to be up early and on the road as soon I had my brain alert enough to drive. Although she hadn’t said anything, I was pretty damn aware of the fact that my escort, and her pack, wanted this job done. So by all means…I was going to get it done.
If I’d gotten an earlier start, I could have finished the job yesterday.
Still, we made good time, even with the stop to sleep. The hotel was fortified, protected by magic and expensive as hell. Everything in South Carolina was these days. In a few years, I figured the state would be a wasteland, home only to the vampires and surrounded by a magicked gate—assuming that tactical strike didn’t happen.
According to a witch I knew, there were already noises being made about the gate thing. It was a scary thought, though. Most of the vampires were civilized enough creatures because it benefited them, and because they’d been around long enough to learn control.
New ones were a different story.
The infestation in South Carolina had started after a few of the newer vamps had managed to slip away from their masters and then they’d gone on a rampage.
What would happen if a bunch of them got out? The thing about gates, and magic…sooner or later, everything could fail.
Thoughts like that kept me awake half the damned night and I was cranky as hell when I woke to smell coffee drifting through the air. Cranky, tired, hungry. A quick meal and two cups of coffee helped with the tired and the hungry, but I’d stay cranky until we were out of South Carolina.
Megan took care of the bill for the meal and the hotel. Good thing, because the price made me cringe.
As South Carolina slowly became a distant memory, the weight on my shoulders eased and I felt like I could breathe. I hated that state. Pitied the poor fools who persistently refused to leave and I wanted to smack the government officials who insisted they were getting a handle on the problem.
They weren’t. The feel of so many vamps still crowded my mind, but it wasn’t a problem I could solve.
* * * * *
A little past ten in the morning, we found ourselves deep in the trees. The GPS had the coordinates for the pack programmed into it, but I didn’t need it anymore.
My skin was crawling, all but buzzing from the energy I could feel dancing in the air. As the road narrowed down to nothing, I glanced at the woman on the bike behind me. She pointed to the narrow shoulder of the road.
Well. I guess we were walking.
Autumn was a cool whisper in the air as I climbed out and the bright red and yellow of the leaves made a colorful backdrop. We’d have a picturesque hike as I hauled around my grisly little delivery. I hefted it the strap over my shoulder and shifted around to make sure I could drop it fast if need be. I could. With the strap over my left shoulder and my hand resting near the grip of my sword, I met Megan’s eyes. “Ready?”
“They won’t like you bringing a sword.” Megan eyed the blade critically.
“I’m on the job. I’m allowed to bring the weapons I normally carry.” I shrugged. “And I’m not a shifter so they can’t expect me to follow by their rules.”
I could have left the sword.
But I get damn tired of people telling me what they like and don’t like.
She sighed and settled herself at my side. “Just don’t draw it.”
“Gee, and here I was planning on attacking the first person I saw. But if you think I should keep my cool…” I smirked a little as we started to walk.
I could feel them.
Something was seriously wrong here. My Banner contact hadn’t gotten back in touch with me, but I didn’t need any information to already figure out that something was wrong. I smelled death and decay and madness. It clung to the air like a disease, lining the inside of my nasal passages. A quick glance at Megan showed that she was catching the same thing, and probably ten times worse, but other than a faint crease between her brows, she gave no sign of being affected.
Hell, she had a smile on her face.
Not a wow-this-is-fun smile, but she was smiling, nonetheless. Like she was out shopping instead of clomping through the trees while I hauled around a couple of heads.
Off to the side, I saw a furred hide dart behind a tree. Too tall to be a wolf, unless they grew them six feet at the shoulder here, which wasn’t likely. Wonderful. Even on their own turf, none of the packs I’d ever dealt with would be running around in that form with a human around, at least not right off the bat. I had no doubt they’d assume I was human. Almost everybody did, at first.
Something fucked up going on here, huh, Damon?
I should have called Banner again.
Even as that thought echoed through my mind, I heard a howl drifting through the trees. The sound of it sent goose bumps breaking across my flesh. That, of course, only pissed me off. It had been a long, long time since the sound of a wolf’s howl in the distance had freaked me out.
But then again, I wasn’t sure I’d ever been surrounded by this much…death…before.
This much decay.
It was everywhere.
Still, my fear wasn’t going to help me any and I knew it. Swallowing back the bitter taste of it, I reached for that mental place of calm and started to focus.
I am aneira.
My sword arm is mighty.
I will not falter.
I will not fail.
My aim is true.
My heart is strong…
Chapter Two
My heart is strong…
I told myself that even as the damned thing kept trying to rabbit out of my chest.
Over the past four months, Damon’s been trying to work with me on controlling it.
Baby girl, that fear might be the death of you. You spend too much time around shifters and they respond to fear the way a shark responds to blood. Even if you don’t show it, you smell of it.
And right now, I knew I was throwing it off bad.
My heart is strong. My heart is strong.
I pictured myself with Damon.
Pictured him with me.
The strength of him.
Pictured my sword. I had her with me and even just thinking of her calmed me.
“Whatever you’re doing, keep it up. Your heart rate is slowing and that’s a good thing.”
I tuned Megan’s voice out, kept focusing.
Calming thoughts. Strengthening thoughts.
My heart is strong—
By the time I saw another furred hide appearing through the trees, I was steady again. Or as steady as I was going to be.
This one had fully shifted and was down on all four paws, watching me with distrustful yellow eyes. He was so damned skinny, his bones jutted out against his pelt and there was something about his eyes that bothered me. Even in their other state, when a were look
ed at me, I could usually see some sign of their human self. They weren’t human, but they still possessed that part in some way. That intelligence. A comprehension. Something.
But looking into his gaze, it was like there was nothing there…except hunger, and a lot of fear.
The musk of fear filling the air all but choked me. Too much to be coming from just one wolf, I knew. Sliding my gaze to the right, I watched the trees until another one slipped forward. Followed by another and another. Fifteen in all.
They stood there, staring at me for a long moment and then they turned and started to walk.
Glancing at Megan, I said, “I guess that means they want us to follow.”
“Yep. That’s my take.”
Shifting the cooling unit around, I sighed. Hopefully, it wouldn’t be too much farther. The damn thing wasn’t heavy but it was awkward as hell.
* * * * *
Twenty minutes. Up one majorly massive hill but I made it up easy enough. I’d done hikes like this back when I’d been a kid, although they weren’t considered hikes—they were training exercises and I’d often been running and dodging attacks the entire time. It wasn’t fun, but I made it and wasn’t even winded when we reached the top.
And that was it.
The rest of the wolves were there. I was even pretty certain this was the entire pack.
Forty-six of them, I counted, including those already in wolf form gathered around us. MacDonald had told me the pack only had forty-eight members. The heads of two were in the cooling unit.
“I have a message for the pack leader,” I said, dumping the unit at my feet. “My name is Kit Colbana. I’m on official business from the pack in East Orlando.”
A skinny kid, just barely out of his spike if that edgy energy around him was any indication, stood. A smile slanted his lips. He might have been a good-looking kid at some point, but the cruelty and the crazy on him had eaten away at that. The only thing I saw on him now was thug. I looked at him and saw somebody I’d either stay the hell away from or kill.
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