He had been keeping pace next to a few girls who might have been minors yesterday. Their chattering continued unabated as they approached Julianne’s. We weren’t the first bar they stopped at. I looked at each ID. Sensitive fingers ran over the continental seal which displayed the North Americas. The pictures on these cards matched their owners.
Finally, I looked at the wolf for a moment, careful with my eye contact. Leveling it, getting his attention. Keeping eye contact would ensure he regarded me as a potential equal. I just had to speak quick, before the little voice in the back of their heads yelled attack. Julianne had given me a rundown on how to interact with a wolf years ago.
“Gotta lose the fur.” I said.
He looked at me, then back at the girls for a moment. My gut said this wolf was escorting one of the girls. His wolf looked young, not puppy young, but certainly not a grizzled adult.
A very slight whimper let me know the problem here.
I sighed and stepped into the doorway for a moment to grab a standard care package. One cheap white shirt, long pants, and a belt. All donations from our local pack. Julianne actually went so far as to wash and vacuum seal them in so they didn’t get an outside smell on them.
“Lucky you. Change in here.” I opened an inconspicuous door on my left and let him pad inside.
Julianne had converted the front closet into a changing room. This way they could avoid walking through the bar. Drunks and an abnormally large wolf did not mix. Shoes were optional. Shirts were not. Moments later a barefoot twenty-something male stepped out.
“Told you the wolf was a bad idea, Amanda.” First thing out of his mouth was a complaint. His shoulders twitched while trying to relax. The kid had to be a six or seven on his rehabilitation. Any lower and he would start snarling this soon after a shift.
“Daddy made me take you, and this is a girl’s night, so you can yell at him.” One of the giggling squad looked ready to throw a fit.
“Ladies, in or out.” I put myself between their squabbles. The small squad huffed in unison before going inside.
“Thanks for the spare.” The male looked tired of his escort duties. His hair was short, cropped black, with deeply tanned skin. With those looks, he might actually find a good time inside if he loosened up. Only watered down drinks, though, wolves aren’t allowed the heavy stuff in public.
“Enjoy your night.” My normal friendly smile was kept well under control. I found out years ago that something about my teeth drove even the most domesticated wolf to aggression.
Julianne’s bar was one among a string that catered to all races. Accordingly this entire portion of road usually warranted a patrol car or two on heavy nights. They didn’t pay attention to a man like myself, I clearly served a helpful purpose.
“Chicka says head on in and do the rounds.” The voice came from behind me. He was a short Hispanic who migrated from the Central Sector with his family. The man was also a wolf who belonged to one of three packs in our region. He came out because another wolf had gone in.
I nodded and went inside.
The crowd was fairly mixed. Some people were riveted to television screens displaying interracial soccer. Other screens had football reruns or politics. This city was a busy coastal metropolis with having two major colleges and all the sports teams. Our baseball players were doing terrible this year.
A turn in the room later and I was face to face with Kahina’s features. Her eyes stared without blinking into mine. She wanted my attention, but her lips weren’t working. The black and violet clothes wrapping her body lit up all the right places. I had to fight the old reaction to kiss her.
She still wasn’t talking. Her face held that excited or possibly angry tint that I never could sort out. The way she teetered between smiling or scowling made both reddened lips quiver slightly.
“Hello, Kahina.” I dared speak first.
Her unwavering stare continued. Kahina’s brain must be going a mile a minute trying to figure out what to do with me. Hopefully, it wouldn’t involve leveling those arms in my direction. Or throwing me outside.
“Alright, I’ve got work.” I tried to step around and she sidestepped with me. Another sidestep resulted in us doing an awkward dance.
“Little help, Julianne?” I leaned to one side while shouting around the black woman’s shoulder.
“Kahina, either drag him to bed or let the man work.” She shouted back. Leave it to Julianne to watch the entire thing.
Kahina’s attention shattered and she turned towards the bar with a hiss. Not one word had been uttered towards me. Heels clicked as my ex charged to the bar. The sight of Kahina’s tall black form near Julianne’s shorter one gave an odd impression that normal was the wrong size to be.
“You didn’t tell me he tasted different!” I could make out her angry tone over the music easily.
“You didn’t ask-” Her words trailed off as their volume lowered. “-and how should I know what he tastes like? It’s not like I licked his face when he came back.” Part of me considered eavesdropping and seeing where the conversation went. The other part of me figured distance was safer than risking her circular thinking.
A couple laps through and I picked a corner to settle in. The crowd tonight wasn’t as wired as some I had been in. Hell, Julianne had thrown me out of this same location once or twice in the year’s past. Not that I didn’t deserve it, I think, I had been pretty drunk.
One of the waitresses handed me a platter with a hamburger on it. It was hard to make anything out about her beyond a set of shadowed eyes peering out of a face surrounded by pitch black hair.
“Must be strange working here again,” The raven haired female shook her head. “Amazing how things come full circle.”
“Your point?” I asked.
“Nothing. The miss wanted you to take a break then finish up out front. We’re closing down at midnight.” The waitress cocked her head at a weird angle to look at me, then she swiveled her head towards Kahina at the bar.
I grunted.
“She looked mad.” She was questioning, probing for details.
“Or excited.” I muttered.
“Be careful tonight, doubt she’s the kind to get over a breakup like that.” I couldn’t remember the waitress’ name, but she seemed familiar. We must have known each other from before my wanderings.
I devoured my food and headed back out front. From just inside the doorway I could soak up the heat and still keep an eye on both directions. Occasionally I would glance towards the bar. Each time Kahina was easily visible, talking to Julianne, or on a phone.
By shift end, I wanted nothing more than to collapse at home. My head felt heavy while both legs slowly dragged their cargo across the parking lot. As a former enforcer, my constitution was good by necessity, but exhaustion always caught up.
My life had existed on the shady side of the world for almost two decades. Experience had taught all about watching for warning signs. Tonight I’d been on guard for clues, the way someone moved their legs. Shifting weight, heavy staring over glasses. People shaking hands, smiling, facial ticks, how many drinks someone had. All of those things were details I’d sorted through in order to protect Julianne’s place.
There were warnings now too, even after shift. The stillness hanging about. Dark patches that didn’t mesh with the night. Both were warning signs of a sort. The real kicker was me disbelieving that dealing with Kahina was that easy.
With a small sigh, I sat down, picking the most convenient car hood under a street light. One finger scratched at my disfigured nose. Now it was a matter of waiting to see what showed up. If Kahina had something to say it needed to be before I got to my sanctuary. There was no one else that would be after me. Not after four years of absence on my part.
The stillness went on. I strained my hearing for additional clues. A wolf would do better. My tricks were of a different nature. Being between home and the bar would help. A method I had, that operated a lot like the tracking, was neces
sary at this point.
Calling on these abilities had been difficult over the last four years. Like the tracking, this was a matter of focusing on a belief. A mindset that brought everything to the fore.
This was my area. Mine. My home, my sidewalk, my work.
It had been so long since the last time. Years without so much a peep. The heady rush of my thoughts shifting. A mental switch turning everything upside down. A claim of ownership that required defending that which was mine. This ability allowed me to go toe to toe with wolves over debts.
The response was similar to tracking Kahina’s lock of hair. Tactile sensations fed it from everything around me. A low hum grew in the back of my mind.
Dense rubber presses against firmer asphalt. Tainted air swirls through the parking lot. Laden with cigarette smoke and exhaust. Streetlights barely warm the sidewalk below. Figures in darkness displace air. Not breathing. Not moving. Silent. Small heat, scarcely human.
It was a tiny sense of omnipresence that almost felt like seeing the world in daylight once my mind settled. There was someone nearby, and it wasn’t mental paranoia. They were a few steps away from Vampire. These partials would only lack a fraction of the speed and power the fully converted received.
Two were staring absently. Almost bored. The third looked right at me. Female, all the curves I’d known far too well. Kahina.
Her jaw smooth, firm. Eyelashes slowly bat. Orbs curving betray where she looks. Towards me. Clothes absorb light. No reflections.
If anyone says that vampires dress in all black because of their affiliation with the night, it’s a lie. They dress in black because it makes blending in and urban hunting easier. Hunting was theoretically outlawed, and to the public eye it was only rare abominations. Fully turned vampires tended to police their own rather thoroughly.
No matter what happened, I’d survive.
She was still again, trapped in a motionless circle of thought. The other two weren’t frozen. They looked around, slowly, taking in the sights, planning routes, looking for weakness. Gazes I knew.
Fingers curled through modified knuckles in my pocket. Crosses on top would have been helpful. Then a vampire would be twice as afraid of being punched in the face. Silver warped too easily. Even the cross under my shirt was a frail thing. The symbol wasn’t for physical strength. It would induce mental terror on those affected by the vampire condition. Going for it now would be a gamble.
I tried not to shake from the midnight chill. Only focusing on the right thoughts would save me when things turned sour. The belief of ownership, protecting what was mine, fighting off these invaders. Apprehension, self-pity, doubt, they would ruin me.
Air combs through fine hairs on skin. Her head jerks abruptly. Other two ticks move in unison. Forward. Towards me. Speeding. Quickness cuts the air. I stir to action.
One leg pushed off the car’s hood. An arm shot forward, bringing my knuckle covered fist out. It jabbed into one charging vampire’s path, predicting where he’d be flitting to. My punch and his running one hundred feet took the same amount of time. Fighting a vampire, even a partial, required being one step ahead. They only moved fast, rarely changing course.
The impact of a high moving sack of flesh colliding with my extended arm jarred my teeth. There was a crunch of bone that didn’t hurt enough to be anything of mine snapping, thankfully. My other hand was busy sliding the cross up and out resulting in a soft crimson light spreading in front of me.
Just after the punch the second vampire landed on my back and whaled on the arm holding the cross. Whatever he hit numbed me from the shoulder down making me drop the symbol. It dangled in front where the second vampire couldn’t see.
No line of sight meant no paralyzation.
The vampire’s scrawny form held an unfair level of strength and he quickly wove his arms through mine in a grapple. He pinched my arms together then pressed reedy fingers into shoulders. Muscles strained, trying to get an arm back into its normal position. The other arm was still numb and might be out of the socket.
I tried to shake his smaller form off. Maybe in the old days, before I’d left years ago, this would have been a lot easier. Four years of laziness meant I couldn’t even handle a second vampire before the first one stood up. His jaw was almost healed from where it had snapped.
Both feet strained to push us as high as I could. Twisting myself right and falling backward got the cross right in number two’s face. Even without touching the symbol it would send jolts of panic through him. Being a partial change meant he still had some sanity, enough to release his hold and bend both legs under me then extended rapidly.
His half coherent effort only shot me a few feet off to the side. A lifetime of being thrown helped me remember to land on my side and clench my jaw. I stood up, arm tingling from the lock. Using my undamaged hand, I managed to grab the cross and get it into position out front.
That was the hard part.
A few worthless street lamps couldn’t light up the area like the cross did. That glow had never been a part of television documentaries or mentioned by any vampires. I was fairly sure it was all in my head. Another strange aspect of my own abilities. Out of all the people I knew, the only time it illuminated any color was in my hands.
My head throbbed. Side ached. Eyes were shooting around the parking lot taking in all the details. I felt each footstep roll against asphalt. Bits of dirt and grime ground along the rubbery under soles. These vampires had attacked me in my territory. My home was close and I felt that extra sense open up completely, something that hadn’t happened in a long time. Years.
I straightened fingers around the modified knuckles to get a better grip. My neck cracked and I stalked to the already wounded vampire. Belief was something I had, not in God, but in defending what’s mine.
“Mine.”
The word magnified inside my head, drumming along with a heavy pulse of rage. My heartbeat would be like a dinner bell to the Vampires, further screwing them. It was like a mouse attacking the cat.
Ribs hurt from where I’d landed, but not enough to hinder my bull rush into the first vampire. I carried him backward, slamming abruptly into a wall. One fist repeatedly lifted and descended while I kept the cross on my necklace facing him. Even numb, there was a satisfying crack to each punch.
Mine. My area. Violation. Invaders. Unwelcome ticks. Wait. Other one. Feel feet slam. Figure charges from behind. Heavier than my current victim.
I whipped the first one into the second one. If he had been standing still then the partial vampire could have dodged, but I caught him while he was moving. They crumpled together in a sad heap. Following behind the tossed vampire, I slammed a booted foot into the second one’s groin. Pain couldn’t stop the combination of rage and steel toed boots from doing their worst to his crotch. Ask any obsessed woman, vampires are fully functional. Ask any man, of any species, being kicked in the package hurts.
Stomping the foot back down sent a second shock of pain spiraling up my spine. That little jolt wouldn’t stop me. One hand reached out to grip the vampire’s head before he fell backward. I ripped the cross off of its chain with the other hand and palm it quickly. Then I slammed the symbol into the other side of his head. Treating my hands like a vice, I laid the pressure on. Heat flowed into my palm and radiated down my arm, but this time the pain wasn’t for me, only his flesh burned.
My turf. My home. My area. A heartbeat thumped, drum-like, rapid. Neck pulsed against the air. Ticks hiss in frustration. Fingers claw against my skin.
“Jay!” Kahina yelled behind me, startling my senses. I dropped the vampire. His face now bore a blistering scar that would likely become a full-time feature on his face.
Heels clicked as Kahina closed the distance between us. No matter how much space, in miles or time, my thoughts always came back to her. For years, the fear of home had kept me away. Coming back was like closing a four-year gap in perceptions for a brief moment. Across that distance of time was a woman I’d o
nce felt strongly about.
“Jay.” My hand curled around the cross blocking the reddish light. Kahina was close enough to hear. Her slow breaths were being used to taste the air.
Should I attack Kahina too? Should I stay on the offensive? God help me if I had to fight her. I didn’t want to hit her, not because she was a woman, but because it was her. She had been mine.
I should never have come back.
She trailed a finger along my arm sending chills throughout. More memories floated up from the motion. Her trail continued down my other hand. Her hand spread over the knuckles, across skin that split and still bled. That tantalizing finger scooped up a drop of blood and tasted it. I heard a gasp of pleasure.
“Catnip, it is you.”
I was still looking away from Kahina, at the two slowly recovering vampires. He wasn’t healing as fast this time. A few more deep breaths passed before I trusted myself to say anything. The word mine underlined each thought.
“Couldn’t just say hi?” My words came.
“You never said goodbye, so I’m not sure you deserve a hello.” She was close enough to almost curl along my back. One hand on my shoulder. Shoving the cross in her face would be a clear message. Only the scent of peppermint gave me pause. A pleasant purr of memories that tried to resurface.
“I’m going to bed.” It was a mundane statement.
“Did you want company?” She asked.
I turned around in anger.
“You’re the reason I left in the first place, did you think I would come back to you the minute I got home?” I failed to curb my shouting.
Kahina was serious. I saw her face, it was an odd mix of hopeful and vulnerable. Her eyelids blinked slowly, covering crimson irises then revealing them like a rose blooming.
“Why not? You belong to me.” As if she couldn’t comprehend why I’d say no.
“I’m not even close to ready. I don’t know if I’ll ever be.” Not if it went anything like the last time she’d tried to bond with me.
“You will not leave again.” Her voice and features shifted in an instant. Her eyes lost that coy aspect and the words were icy.
Once Lost Lords (Royal Scales, Book 1) Page 4