by Michelle Fox
The two thugs trailing me had finally gotten smart. Or, more likely, someone—probably Zion—had given them some good ideas. I would rip their heads off the next time I escaped. I didn't want any more doubts at my back. They were wasting my time.
Not making any progress on the silver, I decided to make a phone call. Slipping my hand into my pocket, I pulled out my cell phone and called the Contessa, pushing the button for the speaker since I couldn't bring it to my ear. I wanted to know where things stood.
"Oh. Hello. It's you." Her throaty voice rumbled like a purr.
"I take it you can't say my name."
"Lots of things are better left unsaid. Where are you?"
I shrugged even though she couldn't see me. "In the trunk of some car driven by Zion's goons and tied up in silver."
"That's...unfortunate."
"I'll figure it out. Tell me what's happening."
"I've left the City Oscura, but," her voice dipped down into a lower register, "I'm being watched. We all are. Our enemies find it convenient to blame us for the blood ring and the Pack Council wants someone to punish. None of us are safe right now."
"What's the next move?"
"Same as before. Hide and wait it out," she said.
"That's it? We give up? Let Zion have his way?"
"People like Zion. They think he should sit on the council." She sighed. "If we had proof, if there was someone who would turn on him and tell the truth, we might be able to prevail, but he has seized power and won't let it go without a fight."
"And there's nothing we can do? What about the Baron? The General?"
"You forget, we are a minority. A small group that thinks about the future and doesn't count on power alone to protect us. The rest...they see this world as theirs. Like Zion, they will take what they want. They all know we are innocent, but getting rid of us will make room for the old ways."
"Pillaging." I closed my eyes and remembered my sister's bloody body. She'd been so tiny, they'd shredded right through her. It still hurt to think about it."That will mean war. With the packs. And the humans—"
"Might find out about all of us," she finished for me.
"This doesn't make sense." I wished my hands could move enough for me to rub my forehead. Zion was giving me a headache, no small feat since I didn't have a pulse that could throb. "He's framing us for the blood ring, yet he's going to make more. It's crazy."
"No, not crazy. Politics. This is a calculated power move. First, they get rid of us. Then they slowly implement their agenda." Her voice grew bitter. "No one will remember us. They'll be awash in blood and thinking it's without consequence."
"Except war."
She laughed. "War is nothing but more fresh blood." She fell quiet for a moment and then said, "No one reads the history books. We dead are so very human sometimes. Immortality changes very little, I think."
"I'm going to prove Zion's lies," I said. "We have to expose him for what he is. A madman leading us to destruction. The world isn't like it was in the very old days. Humans have better weapons. Shifters are more organized. We aren't invincible. We'll die, too."
"Get me the proof and I'll make sure it's seen and we'll see if the tide turns."
"You don't sound like you think it will work."
"We're dealing with bloodlust and hunger, not facts and truth. You can't prove anything to people who already have the answer they want to hear."
"We have to try though."
"I won't lie. I admire your spirit, but I doubt its success." Someone spoke to her in the background, the words too soft for me to make out. "I have to go. Good luck."
She hung up before I could say goodbye. With a sigh, I leaned back and stared into the darkness. Then, I tried even harder to break the silver, straining until my muscles quivered.
Vampires were tearing my world apart for a second time. I wouldn't let it happen. I refused. I had resources the Contessa didn't. A network of contacts in places that would want to hear about Zion. If she couldn't make the Vampire Council accept the proof, I might be able to apply pressure from the outside. At the very least, the world would have some warning.
Frustrated, I gave up on the chain and kicked out the taillight, taking satisfaction in feeling the plastic snap under my foot. If I couldn't get free of the silver, maybe I could at least escape the trunk.
The contortions to get my head down to where my feet had been were not pleasant, but I had nothing else to do with my time so I inched along, doing a garbled somersault to get my face to the tail light. Peering out, I looked for clues to my surroundings, but all I could see was asphalt and the hint of dawn on the horizon. The night was almost done. Not the best time to fight my way free. Finding a rag, I used my mouth to stuff it into the broken tail light to keep out the sun.
I had no choice but to wait and see. Even if I got the silver chain off, the sun would keep me in the trunk.
The car left the highway a few miles later, the change in speed palpable, and parked somewhere. The doors opened and then clunked shut. Footsteps shuffled and came around to the back of the car. I tensed, knowing I would have a very small window of time to take any action. They would be stronger than me, but I knew how to fight for my life and win.
With a sharp creak, the trunk opened, ushering in cool night air. I lurched upright, intent on jumping out of the trunk and bowling over Zion's men with my body weight. They shook their heads and snickered, amused rather than afraid of my movements. More sharp hooks burrowed in my skin to zap my body.
I went limp, taken over by the electricity. Pain exploded through my nerves, but it would pass. I relaxed into it, refusing to let the pain win. With any luck, I would have a second chance.
But Ekon jabbed me with another one of his tranquilizer darts. He patted my shoulder and looked into my half-closed eyes. "Told ya we came prepared this time. This should keep you quiet until we get to Zion. He's got some big plans for you."
My eyes slid shut and darkness swelled up from within me. The last thing I saw was Adele's face in my mind's eye. The memory of her flooded my senses with need that ached like freshly broken bone. She'd cracked something inside me, and the inability to get up and run to her hurt more than the taser.
***
Thank you for reading! This freebie ends here buuuuuuut I have a sneak peek of what comes next below. Or you can skip right to The Alpha's Bite and read everything that comes next.
Chapter Nine
Adele
Months Later
The home of the Huntsville pack had a bank, a police station, post office and several eateries offering anything a shifter could want.
And now, it had a dead body, too.
The man sprawled in the middle of Huntsville's Main Street like he'd dropped dead mid run. His T-shirt had been ripped open and someone had yanked his heart out of his chest. It sat next to him, dark with blood.
That was unusual for the small town, but that wasn't what had people raising eyebrows.
The killer had carved my name into the poor man's forehead.
Me.
Adele.
Well. No wonder people were looking at me funny. At first, I'd thought it was because I was still in my pajamas with a crazy bed-head do—the pack police hadn't given me any time to change. In reality, my problem was the dead body with my name on it. I'd just been slow to catch on.
"Who is it?" The police seemed to expect me to say something. This was the best I could come up with. I glanced at Marie to see what she thought, but she was still fixated on the body, her eyes wide and wrinkles pinched. When the police had wrestled me out of her cabin, the elderly healer had insisted on coming along. Neither of us had expected to see blood and gore with my name on it.
I was glad to have the pack healer at my back, though. She might be old, but she was the kind of bad ass no one messed with. To wit: The first time we met, she'd drugged me and tied me to two trees with silver chains and bled me like a fresh kill. I'd fought it at the time, but I could now adm
it that maybe I'd needed that. I'd also learned not to fuck with Marie.
She only looked like a sweet grandmother. Once you got to know her, she was anything but. She would be the best defense I could have. Possibly the only defense, given the mood of the crowd around us. The fear and suspicion didn't just fill the air, it made a beeline straight for me.
Ducking my head because it didn't seem safe to meet anyone else's gaze, I studied the man looking for a clue that would explain the latest disaster in my life. He wore tan work boots, ripped jeans and a black T-shirt with a Celtic moon logo on it in electric blue. Most werewolves had a lot of moon themed stuff. It was totemic. I moved on from his clothes to his face, holding my breath in case I recognized him. His dark brown hair curled up at the ends and his eyes were open, unmoving pools that had filled with an unsettling emptiness.
"His name is Daniel. Did you know him?" The pack alpha, Cal hooked his thumbs in the worn belt holding up his belly and gave me a hard look watching my reaction. The big man had welcomed me—a complete stranger—with open arms and a warm smile that had made his eyes twinkle. Now dead bodies were showing up with my name on them, and his warmth had evaporated.
I didn't blame him for being suspicious. Something had clearly followed me to Huntsville, something horrible and evil. Bleak terror trembled inside me, escaping from the corner in my gut where I kept it locked up. Please let it be something else. Don't let it be me. Not again.
Maybe the pack had another Adele. I hadn't met everyone yet and it was a pretty name. It could happen, right?
Swallowing, I pushed back my inner turmoil and said, "No. Was he part of the pack?" Maybe he was from out-of-town and had pissed off some random Adele out there. It was a big world.
"Yeah." Sadness flashed across his face, deepening his wrinkles.
Well, shit. I scanned the area. Okay, other Adele. Where are you? This is you, not me. I haven't done a damn thing wrong in months. But there was nothing to see except quaint storefronts dating back to the late nineteenth century, built after the pack first settled in Huntsville. And a growing crowd. People had noticed the commotion and were starting to gather.
The dark blot in my mind's eye quivered. It had joined my wolf shortly after I'd arrived in Huntsville, a shadow I couldn't shake. I had no idea what it was or why it had shown up, and I ignored it on the principle that if it wasn't supposed to be there, I could pretend it didn't exist.
I also chose to believe that sooner or later it would fade. Except I'd passed sooner and was well on my way out of later and it was still there, cloaking my wolf like a second skin. She seemed to like it, but she'd also been known to sniff butts, so I found her judgment suspect.
"Where were you last night?" This question came from a man wearing a police uniform. A silver badge on his chest read Chief Mueller. He'd been in the background talking with his fellow officers in low whispers, but now his attention zeroed in on me.
It was morning and early enough that the frost still sparkled in the day's new light. The temperature hadn't quite dipped low enough for snow yet, but I could smell winter in the air. I'd been sleeping when two deputies had banged on the cabin door and summoned me to Huntsville's idea of downtown.
"I was out gathering herbs," I said. Healer-in-training was my new calling, or job, or whatever you wanted to call it. Supposedly, all the big problems in my life had been because I was a healer, gifted with the sixth sense to know what ailed a pack. No one had realized that about me in my home pack, so I'd descended into addiction trying to numb the constant flow of psychic data.
That fun little detour had almost killed me.
My drug habit hurt my sister, too. Lia had come after me, as always, to try and save me. They'd bashed in her head until she'd forgotten who and what she was. At least the alpha who'd done that to her was dead. Mason had been funneling shifters like me into the blood ring for months, getting rich off other shifters' lives. She'd also gotten a mate out of the ordeal so there'd been a happily-ever-after for her. She and Ryder had settled in a patch of land not far from Huntsville, starting their own brand new pack. I had yet to visit.
I was such a fuck-up.
With a sigh, I accepted that, unless some other Adele fessed up, it looked like my poor life choices were still trying to kill me. I could run, but apparently my past as an addict was keeping up. Who had done this? And why? I wasn't important or special.
"You were alone last night?" The sheriff barked out the question like he didn't believe me.
"Yes."
The sheriff stepped close to me and sniffed deeply. Then he leaned down and did the same thing to the dead body. "I don't smell you on him."
"Because we weren't together. I don't know this man." I barely knew anyone in Huntsville unless they were a patient of Marie's, and shifters were naturally so healthy they didn't need much medical care. I knew a lot of the old folks in the pack because they needed the most care, but wolves like Daniel, in the prime of their lives, didn't get sick.
"She came back with all the herbs I asked for, Sheriff." Marie's calm voice carried in the morning air. She lifted her chin, daring the sheriff to challenge her. Unlike me, she'd had the presence of mind to grab a pale pink robe to cover her white nightgown. Her silver hair hung in a thick braid down her back, looking sleek and polished next to my frizzy 'toss 'n' turn' do. Pajamas, yes, but fit for a queen.
The sheriff straightened and gave me a contemplative look. "She didn't take too long?"
"No. In fact, she was faster than I expected. She didn't have time to do what you're accusing her of."
"All right. You can go, but I'll be by later with more questions."
Something zoomed in the periphery of my left eye, moving so fast, I couldn't react in time to keep it from slamming into me. I went down, street gravel slashing my back. Fists pounded my shoulder and face. I put up my hands to protect myself. Through my fingers I saw it had been a woman who'd tackled me, her face twisted into a flushed scowl.
"God damn whore. You killed my Daniel. Moon curse you." My assailant's voice cracked, and she began to wail like a siren.
Strong hands came in and pulled her off me. More hands helped me to my feet, and Marie wiped dust off my pajamas, which the gravel had shredded until the lower half of my top and shorts hung in uneven tatters.
"Sheri, stop," Cal said holding a petite blonde's chin in his hands so she was forced to look at him.
Sheri twisted her head free and shot me a glare. "Whore! You let this whore into our pack, Cal, and now look what's happened."
"I'm not a whore." I stalked over to her. "I'm an addict. There's a difference." I'd decided to be honest about my mistakes so they couldn't be held against me behind my back. Might as well get all the rotten stuff out in the open, right? Let people process it and give me a chance.
"Addict, whore, bitch," she growled at me.
Great. I'd just given her more slurs to throw my way. Being open was going well.
"Adele," Marie chided, taking me by the elbow and guiding me away. "Daniel was her mate. You can't reason with her right now."
"Oh. Sorry," I said, instantly feeling all kinds of stupid. I didn't have a mate. Washed up, used as a dirty needle, I was no one's fantasy mate. I had no real idea of how she felt, but thanks to my healer empathy, I got a good dose of the despair that filled Sheri.
A headache throbbed in my temples, and the black cloud in my head darkened, looming over my wolf like a storm.
Tires squealed to my right and a black Dodge pick-up truck raced toward us. From the other end of the street came a pale blue Ford pick-up.
"What's going on?" I asked, rubbing my head. Pack energy pressed against me from all sides, thick and heavy enough to bury me. I'd learned that all my problems stemmed from an ability to tap into a pack's emotions. I couldn't shut it out unless I had help. Hence the whole recovering addict thing. Growing up, no had told me what it was, what I was, so I'd come up with my own solutions. Namely, all the wrong things. As it turned out, kids
weren't so great at fixing big problems.
Marie gave me a worried look. "I don't know."
Brakes screeched and the trucks pulled right up to the dead body, stopping short of running him over. The drivers, both men, hopped out of the car, all shouting at once.
"Wait a minute, folks. One person at a time." The sheriff held up a hand.
The men kept talking over one another, their voices booming so loud it was hard to make out any words. More people arrived, some running, some driving in a mix of trucks and jeeps. Several had shifted and bounded toward us, all four paws flying over the ground. Word had gotten out about Daniel and everyone had come running. With the pack all gathering in the same spot, the energy of Huntsville coalesced into a whole. The force of it made me taut as a branch bent to its breaking point.
"Easy." Marie put a hand on my shoulder and loaned me some of her unflappable calm. She did it so easily, but I still struggled to shut out the psychic energy of the people around me. It made me want to run screaming, but Marie didn't even blink.
The noise level reached a roar punctuated by a cacophony of howls from the wolves. The sheriff tried to quiet people down several times before finally pulling his gun and shooting a nearby oak with a broad trunk. That got everyone's attention.
"Everyone quiet!" He pointed to the guy who'd jumped out of the Dodge pick-up. "What's set your tail on fire, son?"
"I woke up this morning and my mate wasn't there. I thought she'd gone for a run, but when she didn't come back, I went looking for her. I-I-I found her in the creek. Dead." The man clapped a hand over his face, scrubbing away tears. "When I rolled her over, her heart had been torn out and the name Adele had been carved on her forehead."
Total silence fell over the crowd. My own heart stuttered in my chest. More than one person had died with my name on their flesh?
The sheriff pointed to Daniel's body. "Did it look like this?"
The man nodded, and then his gaze fell on me. "It's her. She did this." He began to walk over to me, but two deputies headed him off.