by Natalie Grey
“I’m telling you, I heard it.” Cezar struggled along behind Emilian, one of the skier’s limp arms wrapped around his shoulders. “Another scream, before this one.”
Emilian looked back and fixed the man with a yellow stare for a moment. Then he kept walking, disdainfully. He had been daydreaming about ripping Cezar’s head from his shoulders, or sinking his teeth into the man’s neck.
When he was human, he dreamed about just shooting him, no fuss, but in wolf form, his dreams were bloodier.
“No one else came by,” Marcel said. He was breathing hard. The skier was tall and well-built, a heavy burden to drag down the mountain.
Emilian smiled his wolf smile, a curl of the lips, baring his teeth. It was good to be in charge. To make the plans. To watch others carry them out. It was also good to be out in the snow in his true form, his strongest form.
The other Wechselbalg in the underworld had called him weak. They called him a coward. But who was still alive now? They’d drawn attention to themselves and allowed themselves to be killed by a vampire who—if the stories were true—must have one foot in the grave by now. They were weak, not Emilian.
“I swear I heard it.” Cezar was talking again.
Emilian growled, low in his chest.
Cezar either didn’t hear him, or he was too stupid to know to stop. “Shouldn’t we go back and check? If anyone saw Emilian like this, it’s gonna be all over the news. There are so many superstitious people around here, they’re going to believe it. It was a mistake changing, you aren’t even doing anything in that form—”
Emilian batted the skier’s body out of the way as he leapt. Long claws raked through the ski gear like it was butter, and he felt them catch skin.
No matter. Their client had told them to make this man suffer before he died.
But he wasn’t going to waste time on him yet. Emilian pinned Cezar instead, big paws on the man’s shoulders. He lowered his snout to Cezar’s face and savored the look of abject terror. He’d hated having the stink of fear around him all the time.
Now he enjoyed it. Cezar should be scared. He was about to die.
The bastard started babbling, “Come on, boss, you know it’s risky, I’m just trying to tell you the truth. No one else will. Marcel just kisses your ass. But I’ll always tell the truth. You shouldn’t have—”
The pity was that he had to die quickly. No one could hear screams echoing down the mountain. Cezar’s life ended in one snap of Emilian’s jaws. His throat was gone, and he bled out under the trees within a few seconds. Emilian stepped off his body and grabbed one of the arms in his jaws. He pulled Cezar’s body along without comment as Marcel struggled to keep up, now carrying the skier alone.
Marcel didn’t complain, though. Not after that display.
Good.
CHAPTER FIVE
Yelena was training hard enough that her top was soaked in sweat. Her fists hit the bag with dull whumps and she savored the feel of exhaustion in her muscles.
Two years ago, she’d learned that her natural strength made her a good fighter, but that a trained boxer could still hurt her more than she wanted to get hurt.
The lesson had come from her ex-boyfriend, Ciprian. A man with startling good looks and charisma, but also a petulant nature that had only revealed itself when she walked away from him.
In the end, she hadn’t been as easy to intimidate as he thought. Still, she’d learned something important about the world. She’d learned not to give an inch to people like him. She’d learned that when it counted, you had to be the best in the ring.
Now, she was getting pretty close. She’d started boxing lessons the same week she sent Ciprian packing, and even though the other boxers at the gym had laughed at her when she showed up, she’d earned some grudging respect from them over the past twenty-four months.
She was quick, light on her feet, and she had the stamina to keep going long after most boxers began to get sloppy. Not to mention, she packed way more strength into her slender body than anyone ever expected.
She followed her punch with a kick, and was just turning to slam her elbow into the bag when pain hit her. It was distant, but it was as real as if she were there with Alec.
Breathing in cold air, terrified, as the world spun around her and everything went black. And then, even as he slid into unconsciousness, she felt hands pull him up, hit him.
“Yelena?” Boris, the gym boss, was at her side in a second. “What’s wrong?”
Horia, one of the other boxers, sneered at her, “You pregnant or something?”
He was one of the guys who still hated her after all this time. He didn’t like that she showed him up in the ring sometimes, even though he won frequently. He didn’t like how the guys had started to like her and laugh at her jokes.
He also didn’t like Bellatrix, and he definitely didn’t like that Yelena brought the dog with her to the gym.
She never went anywhere without Bellatrix.
The dog was at her side in a moment, a cold wet nose nudging at her worriedly. Bellatrix never worried needlessly, and for a moment, Yelena had the crazy thought that maybe Bellatrix had felt Alec’s pain, too.
She shoved that to the back of her brain, where she shoved the thoughts that she could talk to Bellatrix sometimes. During the first year, the images she came to believe were coming from Bellatrix had become clearer, sharper, more detailed. But the last couple of months she was having conversations in her head … actual words. She knew no one would believe her if she said that—hell, even she didn’t really believe it. Not really. Or so she told herself.
She let Boris help her up and gave him a tight smile. “I think I sprained my wrist.” She wasn’t even aware of picking the words. She had to get to Alec—now. She began to make for the edge of the mat.
“You’ll never be a boxer if you quit when you sprain something,” Horia muttered.
Yelena pulled a sweatshirt on over her tank top, giving him a glare. “You know what? After two years, if you still don’t like me just because I haven’t got a dick, you can go fuck yourself.”
“Hey,” Boris said warningly. He held palms up to both of them. “Not tonight, okay? I have a date, and if I get in the middle of you two, no one’s going to want to have a date with me. I’ll lose what little good looks I have left.”
Yelena gave an unwilling chuckle as she laced on her outside shoes, but only a tiny piece of her was still in the room. She could feel the memory of Alec’s pain and it scared her. She gave a smile and clapped Boris on the shoulder, and left without another word, Bellatrix padding at her side.
Out on the street, Bellatrix stayed close to her, either looking for the same comfort Yelena needed right now, or offering it. She looked up once, worry in her unusually intelligent eyes.
Is he all right?
“I don’t know.” Yelena answered the question she shouldn’t have heard. She shouldn’t have answered, but the words were always so clear in her head that it seemed rude not to say something. “I don’t know. We have to find him, Trix. I’ll call Mama, see where he was going to go skiing this week.”
___
“I thought we fixed this problem.” Bethany Anne crossed her arms over her chest and glared out the window into space. “I thought once Stephen took out their leaders, they would understand that things were different now.”
John raised an eyebrow at her, “Really?”
“No.” She sat down and crossed her legs, kicking out a red-soled Louboutin. “But I live in eternal hope that someday that pile of shit-eating rat-fuckers down there will get their act together and I won’t be required to go kill them all.”
Just think how bored you would be if that happened.
I think I’d like to be bored, TOM.
Huh, you might be getting old.
Mention a lady’s age like that and you’ll find yourself strapped to the outside of this ship, TOM.
“Eventually, you have to let some of them live.” Gabrielle leaned bac
k in her chair, smiling. She wore a black tank top under a leather jacket, artfully faded jeans, and what appeared to be well-worn boots.
Bethany Anne shook her head. Every once in awhile, Gabrielle liked to play the bohemian.
Maybe it was her years in Paris, but it was weird to see her in faded, ripped clothing, compared to the crisp looks of all the other vampires Bethany Anne had ever met. Now, though, there were more pressing matters. “Ok, explain to me why the fuck should I leave any of them alive?”
“They’re like cockroaches.” Gabrielle shrugged. “You can never stamp them all out. There’s always an underworld. Eventually you need to go after bigger fish.”
“That would be a good suggestion … if they weren’t forcing my hand.” Bethany Anne tapped her fingers on the chair arm. Earth hung below the ship in vibrant blues and greens, streaked with white cloud formations. She narrowed her eyes at Europe. “And if I weren’t bored out of my damned mind.”
John mouthed silently to Gabrielle, “That’s the real reason.” She nodded back, trying not to smile.
Stephen? She reached out with her mind.
There was a small pause. Then: Yes?
“Oh, dear,” Bethany Anne said wickedly. Speaking out loud for those near her as well as mentally to him, “did I interrupt something?”
John snorted.
How may I help you, my queen?
“So formal. And yet not answering the question, I notice.” Bethany Anne snickered. “I’ll let you get back to your girlfriend in a second. I just wanted to let you know there’s some trouble in Romania that I’ll be handling personally.”
Instantly she felt Stephen’s worry, Is there a reason you do not wish me to handle it, my queen? Have you been displeased with—
“No. Absolutely not.” Bethany Anne spoke hurriedly. Stephen was one of the most loyal, most competent members of TQB Enterprises. She regretted that her words might have worried him. “Stephen, you know I have no concerns about your abilities. I am going a bit stir-crazy on this ship, and I know you’re dealing with other matters, like the reports of laboratories in Bulgaria.” Her lips curved wickedly, a gleam of humor in her eyes. “And your girlfriend, of course.”
Stephen had been tracking down several groups of enemies, accompanied by Jennifer, a fact that caused no end of jokes on the Meredith Reynolds.
Stephen, who had once enjoyed Tinder and could hardly walk into a bar without picking up a stack of phone numbers, had proven to have decidedly old-fashioned and gentlemanly sensibilities when it came to an actual girlfriend, a fact Bethany Anne found endearing … but still teased him about.
Like, every damned time she had a chance.
She could practically hear the vampire grinding his teeth right now.
It’s healthy to sow some wild oats in your old age, Gabrielle chimed in sweetly.
Stephen ignored his daughter. Will there be anything else, my queen?
“I’ll let you know if there is. Enjoy your romantic getaway.” Bethany Anne cut the connection as John snorted with laughter. “All right. So, it’s settled. I’ll go down tomorrow.”
John’s smile was replaced with a weary look. “With…?”
“With what?”
“With who?”
“Whom.” Pete grinned across the room at him.
John gave him a look, but then returned his gaze to Bethany Anne. “Do any of us get to go with you?”
“I can handle this on my own.”
“I’d be more careful, actually.” Gabrielle stretched like a cat and settled back into her chair, raising her eyebrows at the other vampire. “You want to be cautious around the weak ones.”
Bethany Anne frowned. “How do you know these ones are weak?”
“Even in the underworld, the pack structure is the same.” Gabrielle shrugged. “Stephen took out the alphas. And most of the betas, along with some of the others. So … who’s left? The ones who weren’t strong enough to be in charge.”
She raised her eyebrows. “And they’re the ones who are angry that they are not as strong as the others. They are resentful that the others look down on them. But they can’t take any of the others on in a fair fight, so they always watch their opponent, and hit where they are weak.”
“So do I.” Bethany Anne grinned. She sighed when she saw the same expression on everyone’s faces. “Okay, fine,. I’ll take some people with me. John, you see who wants to go with me. Cap it at … six. I’m going to go pack. ADAM tells me Romania is cold as a yeti’s balls this time of year.”
“ADAM actually said yeti’s balls?”
“No,” Bethany Anne answered, “That part I modified from the ice age number he quoted me.”
“Oh, you mean something less than forty degrees, then?” Peter asked.
Bethany Anne called out over her shoulder as she exited the room, “That’s a first class ass-kicking for you, next time we spar fur-boy!”
John smiled at Peter’s stricken expression. There was one thing that they all realized after a while with their Queen.
Bethany Anne never forgot who deserved an ass kicking when it came time to spar.
___
“Mama….” Yelena tipped her head back with a groan of frustration. “Let it be.”
“No.” Her mother flipped the suitcase closed on Yelena’s hand. Her eyes were fierce. “You shouldn’t go.”
Yelena did not even consider that, “Alec is in trouble.”
“So call the authorities! I got you the phone number.” Her mother held out a scrap of paper.
“I’m going, myself.” Yelena took the piece of paper. “And I’ll call the authorities. But something is very wrong, and I am not going to just sit here.” She looked at Bellatrix. “Even Trix knows something is wrong.” She meant it as a joke, but her mother swallowed hard and her face went grave. “Mama … Mama, I was joking.”
“You can’t go.” Her mother’s voice was even fiercer now. “Not out there. You stay here, where it’s civilized.”
“What does that even mean?” Yelena flipped the suitcase back open and shoved a stack of shirts into it. She wasn’t paying much attention to what she was packing. Hopefully, she’d have something usable when she reached Vatra Dornei, the ski resort. “When I was in the city, you kept telling me to come back here because the city wasn’t good for me.” She grabbed a pair of shoes.
“The city wasn’t good for you. I thought if you came back, you would find a nice man.”
“Oh, for the love of—” Yelena pointed a shoe at her mother. “I am not having that argument, too. I am perfectly happy right now.”
She wasn’t, of course, but she was definitely not going to tell her mother that.
Yelena’s mother kept telling her to meet ‘a nice boy’ and settle down. And, while Yelena had no intentions at all of settling down, sometimes she did feel a strange yearning for something … more. A boyfriend? Maybe. The idea had some appeal. But it was more than that, and she could never put a finger on it. She had her boxing, and a job at the kennel, and Bellatrix. She didn’t want to admit that she wasn’t happy.
Anyway, right now, it didn’t matter. What mattered was her brother.
“Yelena, I am begging you,” her mother pleaded.
“What do you want?” Yelena rounded on her mother. Her voice yelling in frustration. “This is your son out there! Why aren’t you begging me to go help him? He’s in danger!”