“You mean besides the crazy signing bonus?” Julia squinted up at him. “Everything’s weird about that Alstead guy. First of all, he’s young. He can’t be more than thirty, thirty-two years old, and he’s running a multi-billion dollar corporation, for God’s sake. Second, he couldn’t take his eyes off your girl. He gave me a compliment, too, but that was as far as it went. Thirdly, he was way too nice with her. I mean, he even said they could start recording at her convenience. Excuse me, but if I had just invested a hundred thousand in someone, I’d try to get my money back, as soon as I could. Dean: signing bonuses were common practice, back in the eighties. Big names in the music industry could switch record labels, and get insane sums of money. Back then, though, the music industry was booming. It was nothing like it is today. I think that douche bag wants something more from her.”
“Thanks a lot, Julia,” Dean gave an appraising nod, feeling his heartbeat escalate. “I can’t deal with this right now, though. Would it be too much if I asked you to keep an eye on her?”
“No, not at all,” Julia’s response came fast, even faster than he anticipated. “Actually, I was thinking about that on our way back. I’m not letting her go anywhere alone.”
“That’s good to hear,” Dean sighed, averting his gaze from her to look up at his brother. “Come on, kid. Let’s go.”
A human’s lust had come as no surprise to him. By then, he had a very good idea about what they were capable of. Certainly, it was very peculiar for a man with Alstead’s stature to offer so much money to an up and coming singer like Kate, but it was nothing more than just typical human behavior. They would go to extreme lengths to satisfy their most primal urges; why would a wealthy man like him be an exception? If needed, Dean would have to teach him some manners, but first, he had to go out searching for the clan that had been plaguing his birthplace, hoping that the pack would at last find a clue as to where the vampires had been hiding.
Chapter Twelve
For the first time ever, almost the entire Paxton pack left their town behind, leaving only a handful of shifters to watch over the borders. As daylight slowly faded away, a convoy of ten vehicles rushed out onto I-87 S. In Dean’s mind, this quest had little chance of success. Even if they did catch any vampire scents in or around “Tommy’s Pit”, following them sounded more like a Herculean feat simply because the infinite number of smells in downtown Manhattan would not allow them to do so. Although a vampire’s scent was extremely pungent, he doubted whether they could track it for longer than a few seconds. Furthermore, if by some miracle the smells hadn’t vanished altogether, they couldn’t have privacy. They couldn’t just start fighting against their enemies in the middle of the street. In essence, the pack’s only duty was to reconnoiter the area. Anything else that could give away their presence, such as shouting or engaging anybody was not an option.
The night had long cast its veil upon New York as Dean and Raul crossed the city limits. Predictably, his new surroundings had a profound effect on him. Long traffic jams, excessive noise, foul smells in the air, and people swearing at one another, sent his senses into overdrive, testing his patience. However, Dean had been through this before and more than once. He couldn’t say he was getting used to it – after all, getting used to all this insanity was next to impossible – but, just like the first time he visited New York, Dean Bradford had a higher motive, one that could help him endure the pain. Back then, he desired to listen to his Siren sing. Now, he was seeking clues about Damian’s clan.
All the same as Raul’s truck rolled closer to their destination, disappointment spread like dark ink in his chest. The blue, neon sign over the entrance of “Tommy’s Pit” was turned off. The entrance to the parking lot to the right was blocked off as well. In spite of that though, the lights that were in it were on. Dean was more than thirty yards away from the building, but he could see the change of color on the road outside as well as the reflection of the light, landing on the side of bypassing cars.
“Don’t pull over just yet,” he urged his brother as he gripped the door handle. “Pass it first. I want to see who is inside.”
“Okay,” Raul muttered, easing on the brakes as they neared the glass façade. A quick peek gave him the answer to his question. Every light in the club was lit, including the two chandeliers on the ceiling. An elderly man in a gray, janitor’s uniform emerged from the hallway to the left, just before Raul drove past the building. Spotting an empty space on the right side of the road, the Alpha pulled over as their younger brother followed behind them. Dean stepped out of the vehicle, finding himself in an awkward position. Their objective was to check the interior, too, yet, they could not. Still, before he could consult his brothers, the sight of a patrol car, parking, froze the blood in his veins. Its siren was off, but that was not enough to appease him. Nevertheless as the driver closed the door behind him, Dean’s eyes scanned across a familiar face. It was Cliff with a shotgun in his grasp.
“Why didn’t you boys tell me you were going out on a hunting trip?” he complained as his quick strides closed the distance between them.
“Because you punched me in the face this morning, you idiot!” grumbled Raul, his eyes blazing with pure anger. “Did you honestly think you were going to get an invitation after that?”
“He also called us ‘freaks,’” Dean added as Cliff jogged ahead of Ray and Martin.
“Look, I’m sorry about that, alright?” Cliff said, thrusting both arms out to the side. “I was sad about Helena. I wasn’t thinking straight.”
“Hey, Raul: what about us? What you want us to do?” Ray posed the question as he brushed past Helena’s boyfriend.
“Stick to the plan,” the Alpha continued using a firm tone. “Fan out. Give me a call if you find anything.”
“Cliff, I like you, man, truly I do,” Dean confessed as he started towards him. “But, you can’t fight on our side, and then bitch at us for what happened to Helena, you understand? You knew what you were getting yourself into, when you decided to return to Paxton. This is our world. You can either accept it, or walk away.”
“Point taken,” Cliff affirmed with a nod. “Now, what are you boys doing here?”
“First of all, this isn’t a hunting trip,” Raul stated, gazing out at the sea of headlights in front of him. “My brother’s girl was attacked by a vampire in that club behind you, a few days ago. We’re looking for leads. Scents, traces, blood…” he paused; “anything that might come in handy.”
“I can understand why a janitor would want to turn on the lights in the main room, but…” Cliff faltered as he turned his head to the right. “Can someone explain to me why that light down there is on?” He raised his arm to point over at a dim light, emanating from a small window located in the dark alley that ran down the side of the building.
“That’s the light in Kate’s dressing room,” Dean informed them all as a wave of cold sweat washed over him. “Come on.”
A shot of adrenaline rushed into his veins as he quietly jogged off towards the alley. His mate never let anyone near her private room. Her personal space was not to be disturbed, not even by a cleaning crew. She kept a number of pictures in there, along with a small wardrobe. The light in question flickered once, forcing him to quicken his pace. Dean wouldn’t tell anybody, but, should he find a vampire in Kate’s room once more, he wouldn’t hesitate to engage him. Why shouldn’t he? It was a confined space, hidden from any humans’ prying eyes. More importantly, though, his frustration had started gnawing away at him. He couldn’t wait to punish the ones responsible for Helena’s suffering. Approaching the frame of the window, he bent his knees, and then ducked under it. He turned to the left to face it as his brother and Cliff halted a few paces away from him. Craning his neck, he caught a glimpse of a tall, thin man, holding a large picture in his right hand, with his side turned to the window.
“There’s someone in there,” Dean whispered, tossing a swift glance up at Raul. “He’s looking at a picture of Hele
na and Kate. Who…?”
Kate’s mate didn’t have enough time to finish his sentence. With a snap of his fingers, the man in question vanished into thin air, leaving him in shock and disbelief. His brows shot up as he stared into the empty room.
“Talk to me, Dean,” Raul urged with a whisper. “What’s he like?”
“He’s gone,” Dean spoke through gritted teeth, his chest heaving as he realized who had violated Kate’s dressing room. It was the wizard who had joined forces with Damian’s clan. “The son of a bitch is gone.”
“Shit!” Raul groaned, cocking his head in a spasm of frustration.
“Gone?” Cliff raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean ‘gone’?”
“He’s a wizard,” Dean responded in an emphatic tone of voice as he arose to his imposing, 6’3” stature. “That fucker blinded Helena.”
“Did you get a good look at him?” Raul asked harshly in a voice filled with tension as he leaned over towards Dean.
“Six two; six three maybe: short, brown hair. Damn…” he heaved a long, deep sigh. “We were too late.”
“I don’t think so,” Cliff disagreed, grasping his shotgun with both hands as he spun around. “Follow me.”
“Where the hell are you going?” Dean wondered, watching as he practically marched along the alley.
“We need a name,” Cliff spoke in a stiff tone as he approached the service exit of the club. “There’s only one man here who can give it to us.”
“What are you going to do, break in?” Raul interjected one more question.
“Nope,” Cliff replied, turning to face the exit as he cocked his shotgun. “He’s a janitor. He’s going to have to take out the trash sometime. Stay out of this, boys. Remember: I’m the only one with a badge around here.”
Dean exhaled hard, cursing his lack as he ran his hand through his hair. He wouldn’t speak. He had done what he could; now, they had to rely on Cliff.
“When I came back from work, she told me it couldn’t have been an accident,” Cliff lowered his voice as he pulled a flashlight out of the pocket of his coat. “Who told you, guys?”
“Kate’s been her apprentice for a while now,” Dean responded as a foul stench filled his nostrils. Just after that, the distinctive sound of a garbage bag being dragged across the floor sent his pulse rising once again.
“He’s coming,” he whispered, stepping backwards, to hide in the shadow of the roof. Cliff lifted his shotgun at chest height, and lowered it slightly as Raul stopped behind his brother. Helena’s boyfriend pressed the “on” button on his flashlight as the service door was pulled open.
“Hi,” He croaked, pressing the tip of the barrel up against the janitor’s throat as he pointed the flashlight directly into his eyes; “hands where I can see them.”
“O-Okay,” the old man stuttered, squeezing his eyes shut, the black, garbage bag slipping out of his grasp as he raised his arms over his head.
“The guy in the dressing room,” Cliff’s tone of voice became stiffer as he slid the barrel up the janitor’s carotid. “What’s his name?”
“I don’t know,” He squeaked as his hands shook. “He just paid me three hundred bucks to open that door.”
“Wrong answer,” Cliff groaned, stopping his weapon just below the stranger’s chin. “The name, old man: Don’t test my patience.”
“I’ve seen him before,” The janitor said, his hoarse voice overflowing with terror. “He’s good friends with the boss. He gave me three hundred bucks to unlock that door. Bethels,” he choked out as Cliff pushed the cold metal into his skin. “His name’s Leonard Bethels.”
“Good,” Cliff uttered, pushing his flashlight further towards the old man. “If you tell anybody about our little encounter, I’m going to blow your goddamn brains out. Now, get the hell back inside.”
The janitor dropped his arms as Cliff lowered his shotgun. He then spun around, and slammed the door shut behind him as a sense of accomplishment struck Dean.
“Bethels…” Raul whispered, clenching his jaw as he moved around his brother. “Why does that name sound familiar?”
His Alpha’s query shredded any thread of calmness in its wake. He was right; they had encountered that name before. A tidal wave of shock and awe washed over Dean as he recalled when and where he had seen it first. It was in Khalista’s book of prophecies, in a list that was titled:
“The names of the oldest and strongest witch families in the world”
It may have been a while since that day, but, in truth, it had never, ever left his mind. How could it? Kate found out about her heritage that day. It was a turning point, in both of their lives.
“That’s because it’s in Helena’s book,” Dean retorted, tearing his gaze away from him as he rubbed his jaw. “It’s on the same list as Marianne McIntyre’s.”
“Fuck!” Raul roared in rage, kicking a tin can that lay beside his foot.
“Can either of you tell me just what the hell you guys are talking about?” Cliff inquired, surprise written all over his face as he slipped his flashlight back into his pocket.
“Helena’s got this book of prophecies,” Dean explained, slightly raising his tone as his gaze shot up to meet his. “Kate comes from a witch bloodline. Her family’s one of the strongest in the world. So is Bethels.”
“Awesome,” Cliff said, his voice reeking with irony. “Can he be killed?”
“They’re all mortal,” Raul sighed, keeping his eyes looking down towards the ground. At that moment, his phone buzzed with an incoming call from Ray.
“Yeah?”
“We’ve found the bastards, baby,” Ray’s voice was barely audible. “They all live in an apartment building down on 143rd street.”
“What!” exclaimed Raul? “Are you sure?”
“We’re positive. Martin picked up a trail, about a quarter mile east of their building. We had to pull some pretty nasty crap to cover our own scents, but it looks like we did it.”
“What do you mean?”
“We had to dive into a freaking garbage can,” Ray grumbled. “We’re in one right now, too. It’s right across from where they live. Their lights are the only lights out in the building. We can see their eyes in the dark. We’ve counted more than twenty so far.”
“Okay, get your asses back here,” Raul commanded. “We’ll talk more when we go back home. Good job.”
“Damn, they’re smart,” Dean remarked, pressing his lips together. “They’re hiding in plain sight. They know we can’t attack them there.”
“That they are,” Raul agreed with a nod. “Come on, guys. It’s time to go home.”
Chapter Thirteen
Dean’s initial beliefs, about their mission, were lying in ruins. The pack had found more than they could possibly have hoped for. The fact that Damian’s clan was literally living amongst the humans both baffled and impressed him. In their attempt to blend in, they had shown unbelievable restraint. Being so close to their prey and not laying a hand on anybody had to be very difficult for them. At the same time, though, it proved to him that their leader was probably the most intelligent vampire he had ever crossed paths with. That simple truth filled his heart with more concern. To beat Damian, they had to outsmart him, and that seemed like a mountain to climb.
Still as the convoy made its way back to Paxton, one thing became crystal-clear to him. His experience had taught him that muscle could not triumph over magic, regardless of numbers. In order for them to stand any chance against a clan of vampires and a mighty wizard like Bethels, they needed help; a witch’s help, to be exact. And, since Helena had been battered like an old split punching bag, the only person they could turn to was his beloved Kate. However, getting it would be much harder than it would be, just a week ago. His mate had just taken up new responsibilities. In a matter of days, she would have to split her time between recording her first ever album, and her personal life. Dean doubted whether they would see each other at all. Kate wouldn’t sacrifice her few, precious moments
with him to study witchcraft. His heart sank as he came to one of the saddest conclusions of his life: alas, his mate would have to abandon her dream.
Standing outside his cabin, Dean Bradford wished he was never in this position. If only he was a wizard, just for a few days. If only he could go back in time, and try to prevent Helena’s horrific injury. With a heavy heart, he began towards his front door, noticing a dim, flickering light. His kitchen was completely dark. Three, pungent scents swept into his nostrils. Roast beef, red wine, and Kate’s delicious cinnamon, rising above the other two. Two candlesticks were on the dining table down the hall. Kate was next to it, dressed in sexy, black lingerie, with a sexy smile, gracing her beautiful face.
“Hi, baby,” she spoke, the rasp in her voice sending chills down his spine. “Would you like to have dinner, or…” she paused, and lifted her leg to put her foot on the chair in front of her; “skip right to dessert?”
If anything, Dean’s mate knew how to turn him on. She was well-aware of his soft spot for lingerie, and she loved using that weakness to her advantage. Nevertheless, the predicament of his family had stripped him of every sexual desire. The last thing on his mind was sex.
“I’m not hungry,” he murmured as his sluggish footsteps brought him closer to the couch. “I take it you haven’t talked to Monica or Julia.”
“I spoke to Monica, a couple of hours ago,” Kate responded, her tone still raspy as he seated himself on the couch. “She said you guys were fine, and that you had something important to tell me. It can wait, though,” she added, putting her foot back down on the floor. Dean watched as his mate started walking towards him, sensually swaying her hips. Part of him would have preferred to make her shiver with lust; yet, a much bigger part of him meant to keep his hands to himself. “Remember the other night when I told you I’d never been more turned on?” she asked, swinging her left leg over him. “Tonight, I’m even more turned on,” she whispered, leaning in towards him. Kate pressed her lips against his mouth as her arms went around his neck. The feel of her soft skin on his body tempted him. Her passionate kiss lured him into her sensual world. This time however, Dean had no desire to take that magical trip. He remained absolutely still, not kissing her back, or touching her.
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