Bitterroot, Part 2

by Heather Hildenbrand

  I didn’t dignify him with a response.

  I looked out over the crowd, scanning the expressions of the faces that stared back at me. Fear, anger, suspicion. Vampires and werewolves alike—no one looked excited to see the mix that stood on stage together. I couldn’t agree more, but at least I could handle it. I could stand up under this kind of pressure. Charlie had no experience with this sort of thing.

  “Thank you, thank you!” Sheridan said, giving Owen a toothy grin that wasn’t even a little bit friendly.

  The crowd clapped, but it was definitely the sound of strained politeness—on both sides.

  Mrs. Rossi appeared at the bottom of the stage. She rolled her eyes at Owen and hissed at him, “It’s over, Owen. You made your speech. Get down here.”

  Owen’s smile faltered, only for a second.

  “Come on,” his mother prodded. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

  Owen waved one final time, putting on a neutral expression for the crowd, and then, in a graceful leap, joined his mother on the grass. Her hand lifted and rested on his back, guiding him back to their little corner. I noticed he went instantly stiff at the contact.

  Interesting. The vampire prince didn’t get along with his mother? Surprise, surprise. The bloodsuckers couldn’t even manage peace amongst themselves. How could we ever expect to cooperate by forcing a marriage?

  Dad was crazy. If he’d been telling the truth about this arrangement being her idea then Mom had been crazy too.

  With the toast over and Sheridan going on about thanking people for coming, I recognized my chance for escape. I grabbed Charlie’s hand and pulled her behind me toward the stairs. She seemed distracted, but now wasn’t the time to stop and talk about it. Not with all of these people watching—and waiting for a sign, some display of weakness.

  We took the side stairs that led us to the grass beside the stage. The woods encroached not ten feet away and my wolf strained and knocked on its human cage, begging to be freed. To stalk through the cover of darkness and lay into its enemies. I grit my teeth and turned away from the shadowed forest.

  Bevin blocked our path at the bottom of the dais.

  “Move, Bevin,” I said, waving her off impatiently.

  Her emerald eyes flashed in the darkness. I opened my mouth to snap at her again but I realized she wasn’t looking at me. She was staring at Charlie. And her temper was up.

  “You’re not doing yourself any favors, you know, getting friendly with the enemy,” she snapped, shoulders squared, spine straightened. If she’d been furred, there was no doubt in my mind that she would have had her hackles up.

  Charlie froze and I felt my temper prick. What was Bevin going on about now? This wasn’t the time or place for any of her games. And Charlie didn’t need this ranting on top of what she’d just been through.

  “He’s not yours yet. You could at least act like you aren’t already crushing on the enemy,” Bevin said.

  “What the hell are you talking about?” I demanded, stepping between them. I caught sight of Carter, Bevin’s brother, my other best friend, standing a few feet away, arms crossed over his tie and jacket. He made no move to intervene but neither did he seem very surprised by Bevin’s outburst.

  Before I could ask him to help, Bevin explained, “Your little sidekick was flirting it up with Prince Owen right up until the moment they made their first public appearance. Hand in hand.” Bevin turned her glare back on Charlie, jabbed a finger into Charlie’s shoulder. “You’ve got some nerve, throwing yourself at him like that, in front of all of us.”

  “I’m nobody’s sidekick,” Charlie said, chin raised defiantly. My heart broke for her.

  “Bev, give us a break. She didn’t throw herself at him,” I said.

  “Did you see it?” Bevin shot back. “Didn’t think so.” She glowered at Charlie and raised her two fingers in a V, pointing them at her eyes. “I’m watching. Just remember that.”

  “Carter, a little help,” I said, utterly lost. Carter came forward but Bevin waved him off. A second later, she stalked away on her own with Carter trailing.

  When they were gone, Charlie’s shoulders drooped.

  “Don’t worry about Bevin,” I said, squeezing her hand on impulse. I wasn’t the touchy-feely type, but it was hard seeing my sister under assault. “She’s always had a hot temper. Nobody thinks that you’re flirting with the enemy. I mean, you’ve never even met Owen before.” Charlie didn’t answer. “You okay?”

  “Hmm. Yeah. I just...” She rubbed her hands over her face, as if suddenly exhausted. “I think I need some air.”

  “Sure, we could—”

  “Alone,” she added.

  I let her go, watching her retreat into the darkness of the trees.

  I thought about going after her but didn’t want to push her. And I was scared she’d start crying. Or worse, she’d want to “talk.” I had a mental image of putting my arms around her, hugging her, giving her advice. It made me feel awkward just thinking about it. I had zero experience with that stuff. Bevin was the closest thing to a girlfriend I had and the only thing she ever asked for advice on was whether coming in from behind was a better attack technique than head-on.

  So I let Charlie go and decided to face the problem from the other end.

  I whirled and went in search of Owen. It was time we had a conversation.

  I found him huddled up with his bodyguards, talking and laughing with a group of vamps that looked his age but could’ve been older than Moses. You couldn’t tell with those guys. It was one of the undead “perks” they had. They were like freaking zombies or something. We lived longer lives than humans, but at least we appeared to age over time.

  Ugh, disgusting walking dead...

  I didn’t bother waiting for a lull in the conversation. I pushed between them and raised my voice. “Can I talk to you for a second?”

  Owen broke off mid-sentence and the conversation died. I returned their red-eyed glares with one of my own.

  I was not scared of them. In fact, part of me wished they would start something. Maybe then we could abandon this ridiculous truce idea—not to mention this stupid marriage idea.

  Owen didn’t immediately move, so I added, “In private.”

  Owen whispered something to the guy on his right—the hulk menace from earlier—and left the group. I led the way to a corner of grass that wasn’t currently occupied by my side or his.

  When I turned to face Owen he had his hands folded behind his back and his feet planted. He looked unassuming, accommodating in his evening wear. I knew better.

  “What can I do for you, Vuk?” he asked, his voice smooth as a snake’s skin.

  “What did you say to my sister?” I demanded, keeping my voice low. I knew how well these blood-suckers could hear and I didn’t want any of them butting in if they felt like I was offending their prince.

  His eyes clouded over. “I’m not sure I know what you mean.”

  My fists balled. “Don’t play games with me, Rossi. Everyone saw you talking to her. She’s not equipped to play your games.”

  His eyes narrowed. Just enough for me to notice his irritation. “I think that should be for Charlie to decide. She seemed to be handling herself just fine without you.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, right. Just stay away from her.”

  He took a step forward so we were toe to toe. “Or what?” The words were spoken softly, no more than a breath.

  Heat rose up from my gut and the wolf inside me strained against the fabric of my dress—and the confines of my skin. A snarl rose in my throat. “Screw the treaty. If you harm her, I will kill you.”

  “Regan? Everything okay here?” Carter’s sharp voice interrupted whatever Owen might’ve been about to say next. Which was probably good because if he gave me one more sarcastic response, the wolf in me might break free and go for his throat. I took a step back and realized I was breathing heavily.

  Carter approached warily, his tie and jacket
missing. He still looked handsome in his dress slacks and button-down shirt, but unlike earlier when his green eyes had sparkled at the sight of me, now his gaze swept me, searching. For wounds maybe?

  “Yeah, we’re fine,” I said.

  Bevin appeared behind Carter. “You sure?” she asked.

  I looked at Owen. The challenge had gone out of his eyes. He smiled, his neutral expression back in place like a mask. “I was just telling Regan what a nice night it was for an outdoor gathering. I think I’ll get some air.” Owen left, deliberately turning his back on me as he walked away.

  My shoulders sagged. Not so much relief as disappointment. I really wanted a fight. Would it be bloody? Yes. But at least it would mean the end of all this tension.

  “What was that about?” Carter asked once Owen was out of earshot. Bevin hovered beside him. Her temper had given way to concern, which surprised me. I didn’t see that often on her. On either of them.

  I forced a casual shrug, like it was no big deal to confront one of the leaders of our vampire enemies. “I wanted to know why he was messing with Charlie. And I told him to knock it off. Or the treaty might be voided.”

  “Be careful how you threaten him. Your dad...” Bevin bit her lip and looked around, like she expected Dad to be lurking and listening.

  Carter’s hands balled into fists at his sides. “But you’re okay? He didn’t try anything with you, did he?”

  “I wish he would’ve.” I rolled my neck and shoulders to ease some of the tension. “If he messes with Charlie again...”

  Bevin bit her lip. I could tell she wanted to start in again.

  Carter spoke quickly, obviously trying to avert another argument. “I’ve got your back,” he said to me.

  The show of support surprised me. “I thought you didn’t like Charlie. She’s stealing your spot,” I reminded him.

  “She’s part of the pack now. I don’t have to like her to protect her from them. And yeah, she’s taking my spot. I get to be pissed about that. Doesn’t mean I want to see anything happen to her. Or you,” he added.

  I nodded, ignoring the way he’d said “you” softer than the rest. Carter was being extra weird lately and I did not have the bandwidth for that problem right now. “Thanks,” I told him.

  “You guys, we should get back. Your dad is looking over here,” Bevin said.

  She pointed across the field to where my dad stood talking to theirs. Charlie was at his side, looking miserable and ready to bolt. His eyes landed on mine and his mouth hardened; a clear message. I needed to get back to mingling—and putting on a good show for our guests.

  “Carter, can I count on you to keep an eye on Charlie like you promised?” I asked.

  “Yeah, I got it,” he said.

  I nodded without looking away from Dad. “I’ll find you later,” I told them and then gritted my teeth and rejoined the crowd.

  Chapter Two

  Charlie

  I ran laps around the tree line in the backyard for half an hour, pretending to exercise, before I became convinced it was safe to slip away. Sixteen hours had passed since the epic fail that was my engagement party. All evidence of the night had already been cleared away by the caterers so I was alone in the greenery of the back acre. I’d spent the morning in my room reading more of the pack law book but there was nothing in it to help me out of this mess.

  Owen Rossi was my mystery vampire friend and the prince I was now co-engaged to marry. He was also public enemy number one to those I was supposed to bond with—become family with, even. And here I was getting warm fuzzies every time he came around. Even I couldn’t deny that, not when it had been obvious to everyone watching, including Bevin.

  Yep, my life was a royal mess.

  By the time I’d snuck downstairs, everyone else was off doing their own stuff. I’d put on running shorts and tennis shoes and purposely hadn’t shifted. Maybe if I looked like I just wanted human exercise, they’d leave me alone. I did need to stretch my legs, get some fresh air. But mostly, I just needed to be alone. To think. To try and make sense of everything that had happened last night.

  So with one last glance around, I slipped into the woods and raced down the trail. My running shoes pounded the dirt in a staccato rhythm. My breaths became shallow and short, finally finding a pattern of their own even as my pulse sped in my ears. Trees and ferns whirred past me on both sides of the narrow trail. When one blocked my path, I veered left or right until the only path I followed was my own. I didn’t slow down for at least a mile. When the trail forked, I took the smaller one. Finally, as the trees closed in around me, I slowed and allowed my mind to wander.

  I couldn’t believe how stupid I’d been. I’d stood right in front of Owen and had an entire conversation with him, all about the sad state of my life now that I belonged to the pack. All about how angry I was to be forced into competing for a title I’d never wanted, and possibly forced to marry someone I’d never heard of—and he’d never said a word about his own part in all of this.

  What must he think of me? He knew I was a werewolf, and that I was Regan’s sister. He knew that I could be his future wife—and he purposely didn’t introduce himself. He must have been laughing at me.

  I wasn’t sure if I was angrier at that—or at the entire pack being so quick to count me out of the competition. Not a single one seemed even on the fence about the outcome—or my fate—much less interested in getting to know me in the interim. I’d never felt less valued in my entire life.

  After I’d escaped Bevin and her accusations at the party, I’d tried stealing away to catch my breath. But Dad had caught me edging toward the woods and called me back. He’d paraded me around to the pack members—and even some of the vampires. I’d even met Mr. and Mrs. Rossi. I shuddered as I remembered the cold that had crept along my skin when I’d shaken Mrs. Rossi’s hand. It wasn’t just her body temperature; it was the cold calculation in her crimson eyes. I’d felt threatened from that single glance she’d given me and, for the first time, I thought I knew why Regan felt the way she did.

  But the werewolves hadn’t been any better. Carter’s dad had all but forgotten I was standing there and gone on about how proud Dad would be when Regan was alpha.

  But none of that topped the way Owen had teased me. I’d thought he’d been flirting when he’d found me lurking near the buffet table, but by the time he’d given that secret wink onstage, I’d realized the truth. He was making fun of me for what he’d known all along. My naiveté was such a joke.

  In the wake of it all, I’d made a decision. I was determined to fight. To show them all that I wouldn’t be so easily cast off.

  But before I could do that, I needed to train. The problem was I had no idea how to go about it. Dad had said I would learn from the pack, which meant some sort of homeschooling, but that hadn’t started yet, and it wasn’t like I was going to ask him to teach me. Especially when I was pretty sure part of that meant hunting live prey. And ultimately, killing. A reality I wasn’t prepared for yet.

  I needed another way, but I had no idea how to find out what the competition would entail. The book Regan had given me was vague, citing past examples of sibling contests in poor detail. The only thing I knew for sure was that there were no set rules for each round of “tests.” The arenas and contests were chosen by the council members; they were different each time.

  Unless I found someone to help me, all I could do was general physical conditioning. But the thought of asking any member of the pack made my stomach coil.

  I kicked at a downed limb, not really paying attention. My toe hit the flat end with a hard thunk. “Ow,” I muttered, hopping and shifting my weight. Inside my shoe, the injured toe flared with heat and pain.

  Behind me, soft laughter rang out.

  I whirled, forgetting all about my stubbed toe. The wolf inside me rose to the front of my mind and hovered there. I could feel my skin tingling as my hands shimmered in and out of focus. My body wanted to shift in the face of the po
ssible threat. I held my animal in place and scanned the trees.

  “Calm down, I’m not going to attack.”

  My insides jumped as I identified the owner of the voice. Rather than ache for the attack, the wolf in me receded. Instead, butterflies began and I scowled.

  “What are you doing here?” I demanded.

  Owen stepped out from behind the trees. His body movements were so fluid, it seemed like he’d materialized out of empty air. “Me? You’re the one crossing the treaty line, darling. You’re on my side of the world.”

  “I am? Oh...” I looked around and it hit me that the scenery had changed. The trees were closer together, taller, older looking. The air had a different scent to it. Sweeter, almost to the point of rotten. And the canopy overhead was thick enough that it blocked out all but the most penetrating rays, throwing a layer of shadow and gloom over the rich greens and browns. “I guess I was … preoccupied,” I muttered.

  He smirked, but it was more teasing than friendly and reminded me of the expression he wore last night when he’d addressed the crowd. A mask, I realized. “I’ve heard engagements tend to do that to women. So many fine details to keep straight.”

  I narrowed my eyes. He was laughing at me again. “Not to mention there’s the fact that you lied to me and purposely kept your identity a secret,” I said.

  He merely shrugged. “I wanted to keep it interesting. Make sure you liked me for me before I told you about my fortune.”

  I glared. “Your fortune has nothing to do with it.”

  He arched a brow. “So you do like me?”

  I let my eyes trail over him, giving him a cursory inspection. His dark pants looked just faded enough to be sexy rather than stiff and he’d rolled the sleeves of his button-down shirt to his elbows. Like he’d started out proper but changed his mind halfway through. The ruggedness of that and his scuffed boots added to the dangerous charm that hung about him. I kept my mouth twisted into a humorless line, but inside, my pulse quickened. I hated to admit that I found him so attractive.