by Trina M. Lee
Opening the palm of my left hand, I directed a stream of power at him that stopped him in his tracks. My personal energy flowed out of me.
He let out a wail and began to crumple. I glanced up at the house, fearful that the occupant would appear.
As I maintained my hold on him, I felt the force drain from me. In effect, I was using solely my own energy to pin him. Unless I got a chance to draw again from the earth, my power wouldn’t last long.
Jez retrieved the forgotten stake and, with a mighty blow, slammed it into his heart. I let my power fall away and staggered with sudden weakness. While I leaned against the house, I fought to catch my breath.
With superhuman strength, Jez pulled the stake from the body and plunged it in repeatedly until the corpse began to disintegrate. The slight breeze began to disperse the ashen remnants of the vampire. By the time we heard a timid, female voice demand to know who was out there, we had already closed the gate on our way out.
Chapter Two
Lights shone in the windows of Veryl’s office building. A few of the others and I keep an office there. It’s a small, stand alone structure on the corner where the busy city street quiets down into a residential zone.
When Jez and I walked inside, Kale was preparing to leave.
He eyed the blood drying on Jez’ hands. She tossed her knife into the small sink as we entered the makeshift coffee room. “Tough day at the office, Jez?” His grin was teasing.
Kale Sinclair was a tall, dark vampire more than five hundred years old. He was both a friend and that co-worker who drew me into more trouble than I get paid to deal with.
His style of dress was modern but fashionable in a way that does nothing to diminish his masculinity. He’s always well put together. Dressed head to toe in dark slacks, a thin grey sweater and his favorite black duster jacket, he looked good enough to nibble.
After spending a great many years suffering at the hands of the vampiress who turned him, he had dedicated himself to taking out supernaturals like her. Some of the stories of terror that I had heard from Kale had been enough to keep me awake, blinking in the dark. However, the tales that he refused to share with anyone, yet we all knew existed, really made my skin crawl.
“The usual. It was tougher not to pull his insides out piece by piece,” Jez replied as she turned the faucet on and began to wash up.
“I didn’t think you two would need me.” Kale commented.
“We never do,” I countered, only partially joking.
“Lies!” He pointed a finger at me in mock accusation. “I recall a time when a certain lady werewolf got in over her head and needed my act of bravery and heroism to save her. Don’t you?”
“Yes,” I rolled my eyes at his dramatics. “How can I forget when you bring it up every chance you get? That was a long time ago anyway.” I gave him a playful punch in the arm to which he feigned great pain. Honestly, Kale had come to my rescue, once. I’d been a little too hasty in my decision to go in alone after a newly turned and extremely out of control werewolf.
Not everyone survives the change with all of their marbles intact. I’d seen more than one insane shifter in my day. But, this one had almost gnawed my arm off as I fought him with the other. Even a metaphysical attack that threw him a hundred feet or more had barely winded him. Kale had to pry open his jaws even after he had killed him. I still bore the faintest trace of a scar on my upper arm from the incident. Insanity adds greatly to one’s strength, as if the absence of mind eliminates the recognition of pain and fear.
“It wasn’t that long ago,” Kale admonished.
He winked a puppy dog brown eye at me. The other was startlingly blue in contrast due to an intriguing gene condition, heterochromia iridium. His mismatched eyes made women want to keep looking at him. He had once told me that, as a child, he’d been treated like a monster. More than once, he’d been told that his different colored eyes were a sign of the devil. I thought they were beautiful.
“It’s never happened since.” I took a step toward the refrigerator that always bordered on ridiculously empty. I reached to grab an iced tea when the room began to spin. Everything was fuzzy around the edges, and for just a moment, the blackness threatened to send me hurtling headfirst to the linoleum floor.
“Are you ok?” Kale’s warm hand reached out to steady me.
“I think so. Just a little burnt out.”
He held a hand near my skin and felt my aura. “Your energy is low. You need to eat something or take from someone with energy to spare.”
His statement conjured thoughts of intimacies too delicate to share. There were things more intimate than sex. Intentionally feeding from another’s life source was occasionally one of them.
“Is that an offer?” I smiled to show him I was fine and twisted the lid off my iced tea bottle.
“I’m serious, Alexa.”
“I’ll be alright. I just need to go to Lucy’s for a fat, rare steak.” I allowed him to steer me to a chair at the small mahogany corner table.
“You always do things the hard way,” Kale commented humorlessly.
“There’s nothing hard about replenishing with food. It just takes longer.” I shook my head at him. “I’m not a vampire.”
“You’re not so different. It would work for you.”
“I’ll go to Lucy’s with you, Lex,” Jez interrupted. She dried her blade on a dishtowel and slipped it back into her boot. “I could use a drink.”
Lucy’s Lounge is a popular nightclub in Stony Plain, my hometown, which lies just ten minutes outside Edmonton’s city limits. My close friends and I spend a lot of our free time there, since our nocturnal habits play a large role in our lives. Lucy’s was different than most city clubs. It’s a low-key place, casual with a classic rock-and-roll vibe rather than the trendy top 40 non-stop.
“Take care of that energy level, Alexa,” Kale said as he turned to leave with his long jacket floating just above the floor. “Don’t deny yourself so much. I’ll see you lovely ladies later.” He gave a slight bow before sweeping out the way only a vampire could. I frowned as my snippy retort died on my lips.
I felt fine to drive once I’d taken a few deep breaths of the cool night-time air. Wind energy can work wonders for a quick pick me up. The fog in my head cleared, but my stomach began grumbling its hunger and impatience.
In her Jeep, Jez followed my red Dodge Charger Daytona.
The short highway trek between the city and Stony Plain took all of seven minutes.
Driving through the small town to the Lounge, I remembered why my hometown was so special. Though it boasted of big city luxuries, it had a level of safety the city could never claim. Children were safe in parks and on trips to the store for slush drinks. The community was friendly and warm. Walking and biking trails wound their way in between sections of trees and neighborhoods to cover the whole town. The population reached about 20,000. The town was cozy enough that most families knew one another but not so cozy that a stranger seemed out of place; it was that perfect blend of large and small. I was glad to call Stony Plain home.
It would be the perfect “grow old together” town if I were still able to grow old with someone. I no longer saw that kind of future for myself. My life didn’t allow for normalcy of the picket fence kind. Of course, I still felt love, in more ways than I could understand. Love remained a confusing and wonderful thing, one power that no one truly harnessed.
The lounge occupied a brick building and beckoned to patrons with a simple fluorescent sign that stated the establishment’s name, Lucy’s. It was large enough to hold nearly a thousand people on a large concert night, but club capacity was five hundred.
What the place lacked in the way of décor, it made up for in smooth whiskey and fine rock n’ roll. The walls were a drab grey; the carpet looked grubby, as if it had been filthy even as it came off the loom. In the center of the bar was a staircase that led to the second floor, which housed another bar and seating area. It was much smaller and
less popular than the crowded downstairs.
Lucy’s Lounge was packed when we arrived just before midnight. Nobody appeared to be in the mood for trouble making, but the night was still young.
We moved through the crowded club; an assault of scents battered our sensitive noses. I could smell everything from someone’s jasmine perfume to somebody else’s two-day-old socks. I was glad the club had gone smoke free. My nose informed me that Arys was there. I instantly picked out his cologne amidst the crowd. It was a strangely enticing smell that, when combined with his favorite hair products, was all his own.
Arys Knight, the only resident vampire in Stony Plain, sat at his favorite table near the bar with his human card-playing buddies. Despite his casual posture and eyes on his cards, I knew he was aware of my presence.
Shaz Richardson, my fellow werewolf and close companion was working one end of the bar. He looked up as he caught my scent, and his smile made my heart flip.
While Jez made her way to the bar, I headed for Arys’ table. He wouldn’t let me avoid him.
“Alexa.” He said my name as if it were a fine dessert. He brought my hand to his lips in a dramatic gesture of greeting, and the power rose between us as it so often did.
The part of me that was spent hungered for his cool, undead energy. The other guys around the table laughed as if his grand greeting had been for their benefit, but I knew it was for mine.
“Hello, Arys. Having a good night?” I gestured to the hand of cards that he held.
“Always.” He flashed me the smile that he’d been perfecting for centuries, not even a hint of fang visible. He made it impossible not to smile back.
Arys came off as the cocky, egotistical type of man that I usually detest, but I knew there was more to him than that. He’d lived through things I could only read about and had known a world I would never know.
“Causing plenty of trouble?” I asked as I glanced over my shoulder. Jez was still waiting in line to order.
“Trouble? Me? You’ve got to be kidding.” He threw cards on the table and said, “Read them and weep boys.” He looked up at me and grinned.
His forever-youthful grin indicated that he couldn’t have been more than thirty or so when he was turned. The ladies loved him. With a smile like his, I couldn’t blame them.
However, when he smiled just for me, the sight of those fangs in that beautifully human face sent a chill racing down my spine.
I’ve known more than one vampire who dressed like a Victorian movie vamp but not Arys. His fashion is much like my own, edgy but stylish. Piercings in his ears, nose and lip added to his mysterious look. He wore black almost all of the time but in a modern way. He was dressed casual in faded blue jeans and a black t-shirt that hugged his wellmuscled chest in all of the right places. His eyes were a deep, drowning blue; his hair was slightly spiky and bedroom messy with just a hint of the early Elvis style. To say that I found him attractive would be putting it lightly; the vampire was absolutely gorgeous.
I knew he was a ruthless killer behind that human mask, but thankfully, I wasn’t on the menu. At least, as far as I knew, I wasn’t. That’s not to say that werewolves are not killers; however, a vampire’s reasons are often vastly different from our own.
“So what brings you in? Weren’t you working tonight?” he asked, and I had to struggle to clear my head.
“Somewhat.” I allowed my gaze to wander around the room and observed the other patrons. “I just had something to take care of.”
When I looked back at Arys, he was watching me closely. Too closely.
“What?”
“Nothing. Just … sensing you.”
This wasn’t anything new. Being a vampire, Arys had sensed the natural power in me the moment we first met.
“And, what is it that you're sensing?”
“You,” he repeated but this time he caught my hand firmly in his own and forced me to meet his sapphire blue gaze. “You’re weakened.” I was glad the loud music prevented anyone from overhearing. I couldn’t help but be uncomfortably aware of his poker buddies watching us.
A small spark began in my hand, discernible only to those with the acute ability to feel energy. It flowed quickly up my arm and tickled as it went. Heat began in my palm as my power sought to draw him in. Against my control, it pulsed and began to grow as his power bonded with mine.
With a gentle push, I felt a surge shiver through me as Arys seemed to breathe energy into me through touch alone. He simply gave up that which I would never willingly take. I wanted to melt into the welcome sensation. Something about the vampire always made my power reach out for him. When the charge fell away, I was left tingling and craving more.
With a deep breath, I stepped back and pulled my hand away. Arys said nothing, but the look in his eyes said enough. I almost forgot we were in a public place. I shook my head to clear the haze that had developed.
“I should go keep Jez company in that line up,” I mumbled, trying to find a reason to walk away. My heart pounded as a dose of adrenaline hit me. “I’ll catch you later.”
“Not if I catch you first,” he replied.
I couldn’t deny the meaning behind the look he shot me. His eyes held hidden promises of greater desires. Arys made no secret of his infatuation. He had made no attempt to deny his interest nor had he blatantly pursued me. He’d simply made it my choice. I could feel the hot blush that spread across my cheeks when I turned to walk away.
I thought back to a time when my best friend Kylarai Kramer had asked me if I was curious about Arys, curious about what it would be like with him and all of the power that went with him. Hell yes, I was curious. I was a living, breathing woman after all.
I was also realistic and cautious. I didn’t want to jump in bed with the vampire just because it was the easiest way to see what we could do metaphysically. Energy just needed to be charged, it didn’t have to be tantric. Arys gave our power exchange that flavor, and honestly, it freaked me out.
“That one has it bad,” Jez said when I joined her at the bar. I carefully ignored the people behind her who thought I was cutting the line.
“What?”
“The smoking hot vampire,” she nodded slightly in Arys’ direction. “I can practically smell the lust from here.”
“Shut up.” I couldn’t help but laugh. “Don’t be ridiculous. I’m sure he has more than his fair share.”
She just shrugged and overlooked my remark. “Do you want me to order you a drink? How are you feeling?”
“Thanks to Arys, I feel great. I’ll take a whiskey. Just one though.” I wasn’t a big drinker, but I enjoyed the occasional cold one. Shifters process alcohol twice as fast as humans, so one drink would do virtually nothing to me.
“Energy games with the vampire, huh? Well, whatever works.”
I didn’t respond. She wouldn’t understand, and I couldn’t begin to explain it to her in the noisy bar. When it came to the rush and tingle of metaphysical power, some things cannot easily be described.
When we stepped up to the bar, Shaz flashed me a smile almost as white as his naturally platinum blonde hair. He had joined our small town pack as a newly turned and naïve eighteen-year-old after meeting Raoul by chance. He’s since graduated to a twentythree year old with a great loss of innocence and a new, in-depth awareness of what really goes bump in the night. My relationship with him was a special one. I trusted nobody else the way I trusted Shaz. He was my other half in so many ways.
“Hey ladies.” He greeted us with a smile that appeared to have never known a frown.
“What can I get for you? The usual?”
“Make mine a double,” Jez replied. “A single for Lex.”
“I thought you guys were working tonight. That didn’t take long.” Shaz turned to grab a new whiskey bottle from the liquor shelf behind him and something bright red for Jez’ fruity drink.
“No. Jez wanted to play cat and mouse with our target for awhile, but once he saw her kitty cat eyes, he
changed his mind,” I said and fished some cash from my bag. Jez waved it off as she produced enough to cover both drinks and a nice tip for Shaz.
“I would, too,” he joked as he poured our drinks. His jade green eyes flashed bright in the bar light overhead as he met my gaze. “So, when are we doing breakfast?”
Once, Shaz and I had a routine of going for breakfast every morning. Since I’d started working independently for Veryl, I couldn’t recall the last time I was actually awake during breakfast hours.
“Let’s make it dinner. Why don’t you come by the house one night this week?”
“Are you cooking?” He raised an eyebrow at me skeptically.
“No, I wouldn’t do that to you. We can order in or go out. Maybe Kylarai will want to come.” Kylarai and I share a house on the west side of town. It backs onto a farmer’s field with a tree line of forest only a kilometer away. It’s a perfect location for wolves.
“Sounds good to me.” He pressed my drink into my hand, and the barest touch of his fingers against mine made the wolf inside me raise its head in recognition. For the briefest moment, our two wolves shared a wet nosed greeting. A longing deep down inside me sought the scent of the forest and the exertion of a good run on all fours.
We’d just left the bar and begun looking for a place to sit near the pool tables, when a few guys sitting nearby beckoned us over. When we ignored them, the ringleader of the three got up and approached us.
“What do you want?” Jez snapped. If he had known that she’d been knuckle deep inside somebody’s spleen tonight, I doubt he would have tried.
“Take it easy girl. I was just going to ask if you wanted to join us. We have some extra chairs at our table.” He shifted his body in a lame attempt to flex his muscles. I could only imagine how many times he would try this in a night.
“No thanks,” I said. “We’re fine.”
Jez shot me this look that said she didn’t understand why I bothered trying to be polite. There were a few reasons; one of them was that a bar fight would bring cops, which I didn’t need.