by Cecy Robson
Aric and I always went to bed fully dressed, though it never lasted. Before meeting him, I used to be highly protective of my personal space. But once we were together, physical distance failed to exist between us. I always woke with his arms around me. Sometimes I faced him; other times my back was to him; there were also days when he lay on top of me—exactly where he’d fallen asleep. Regardless of the position, it always felt right. I’d only ever known true peace in his arms.
With Barbara having moved on to the next pureblood she could sink her fangs into, I’d begun to fantasize more and more about making love to Aric. When I’d last spoke to Liam, he told me my encounter with the demon had pushed Aric to his breaking point and that he’d gone berserk trying to hunt down the Tribe in order to keep me safe. My touch, my presence, my body could soothe him and humanize his wolf again. I had no doubt.
The problem remained, though: sex wouldn’t extinguish Aric’s pack obligations or make the Tribe go away. It would calm his beast temporarily, yes, but our human sides would ultimately suffer. The kiss we’d shared at Shayna and Koda’s wedding stemmed from longing and the desperation to be with each other. It hadn’t solved anything. And it hurt so much afterward when we parted. If we made love, it would only reopen those horrible wounds from our first breakup. So then what?
The fluttering of wings interrupted my thoughts. A beautiful snow white owl landed on the low limb of the nearest tree. My tigress woke up. She probably wondered why this nocturnal bird had taken to flight during the day.
It stared at me. Its head tilted at an inquisitive angle, its round yellow eyes unblinking. A breeze blew softly, allowing me to catch the owl’s aroma. It smelled of feathers, dry leaves, and pine trees. There was also the vaguest hint of something else. I took a deep breath, trying to figure it out. Hmm, is it . . . copper?
The owl flapped its broad wings and landed on a withered log next to me. The smell of copper intensified, quite subtle but unmistakable. My tigress didn’t like the bird so close and grew uneasy. I concentrated on blocking its spirit in case it continued to advance. It turned its head toward me and opened its beak.
“Celia Wird,” it said in a demonic voice.
The cocking of guns snapped me out of my shock. I dove off the side of the cliff as a stream of bullets littered the sky. I shifted to break my fall and surfaced behind a large boulder, where I poked my head around. The owl flew around at an unholy speed, dodging the spray of bullets from the snipers in the helicopter. It flew toward the horizon, continuing to chant, “Celia Wird. Celia Wird. Celia Wird,” until it disappeared into the sun.
The helicopter didn’t follow, veering back. Misha’s vampires had found me. Hank paced at the cliff’s edge swearing like a maniac. Tim also yelled, his fingers gripping his bald head. “Mother’s ass, what the hell are we going to tell the master?”
Another vamp appeared and looked out over the cliff. He shrugged. “The truth. You killed Celia.”
There was a disturbing gurgling sound as Tim grabbed the vamp by the throat. The vamp foamed at the mouth when Tim tightened his grip and shook him. “I did not! That crazy bitch jumped off the cliff.”
I stepped into view. “The crazy bitch jumped because you jackasses fired at me!”
Tim dropped the vamp down the side of the hill. He rolled with flailing limbs as more vamps rushed to the edge. They were all initially shocked to see me still alive, then relieved, and finally royally pissed off. In a flash, both Tim and Hank were in my face. “What the hell is wrong with you?” Tim hollered. “Do you have any idea what the master would have done to us if Drago killed you?”
“Drago?”
“Yes, Drago,” Hank snapped. “Taking on a shape-shifter is just plain suicide!”
I glanced back at the horizon like an idiot. “That owl was a shape-shifter?”
Hank and Tim just shook their heads at me, probably wondering how I tied my own shoes.
“Would you stop looking at me that way? I’m not stupid! I didn’t grow up in the supernatural community—there’s still a lot I don’t know.”
“No kidding,” Hank muttered.
He crumpled to the ground when I kicked him hard in the shins. “That’s for insulting me and being involved in that stupid bet.” I turned to glare at Tim. He took a step back. “Tell me about Drago.”
Tim scowled but did as I demanded. “He’s one of the oldest and deadliest of the shape-shifters. He’s rumored to have made tens of thousands of blood sacrifices in order to gain his ability. He usually takes the form of a winged creature—that’s why we think it was him.”
“He smelled like a bird.”
Tim rolled his eyes at me. “That’s because shape-shifters assume the scent of whatever they change into. Their only constant underlying aroma is copper.”
Okay, so I was right about the copper. “He watched me for a while. If he’s so deadly, why didn’t he just kill me?”
Hank staggered to his feet. Tim rolled his eyes at him this time and continued. “He’s likely heard about you, too. The only reason you’re still alive is he probably thought you weren’t worth killing.”
“Why?”
Walt, another vamp, descended the hill. “She’s not very bright, is she?” He talked about me as if I wasn’t even there. He was one of Misha’s newer vampires and spent most of his time trying to buddy up to Hank and Tim. It didn’t work, and I didn’t appreciate him trying to earn a laugh at my expense.
Tim looked from Walt to me. “I suppose he didn’t recognize you as a challenge.”
Although the Drago creep had wigged me out, I couldn’t help feeling slighted. “Why the hell not?”
Walt chuckled. “Because you’re not. Near as I can figure, you’re the master’s charity case.”
“Excuse me?” My hackles rose and a growl built deep in my core. The vampires in general weren’t exactly kind to me, but this loser had just catapulted right over the piss-me-off line.
Hank and Tim knowingly took a step back from us, then another. Walt’s smirk told me my inner beast had failed to intimidate him. He circled me, eyeing me like he wanted to take a bite. “I think for once your idiocy worked to your advantage.”
My claws protruded as I felt him stalk around me. I wasn’t scared. But he should have been. “You insult my intelligence one more time, Walt, and I swear I’ll rip your arms off.”
Walt loomed over me, bending his large frame to bare his fangs near my throat. “You forget yourself, Celia. You may be the master’s plaything, but I am a member of his family. He would understand if I was forced to kill you in self-defense.”
• • •
“So what was Walt trying to say before?” I asked Tim in the car.
Tim shifted nervously in his seat. “Ah, because you didn’t know what Drago was, you didn’t know enough to be afraid. He gets off on fear and pain. You failed to demonstrate either and therefore failed to excite him. And since you didn’t attack, he didn’t see you as an immediate threat.”
I sat back against the black leather seat and adjusted my legs. “Drago called me by name. How is it that shape-shifters know me, too? I’ve done some damage, but not enough to get this level of attention.”
Hank stopped trying to wipe Walt’s blood off his polyester suit. I didn’t like the grave expression that fell over his face. “For whatever reason, all the dark ones have gotten wind of you, Celia. Shit, I don’t know why.” He exchanged glances with Tim. “But someone has obviously told them about you and sent them your way.”
“Misha said I’m supposedly the key to destroying one of the dark ones. I assumed it was the Tribe, since that’s the group I’ve been training to kill. Now, after this, I’m not so certain.”
Tim shook his head. “It could still be the Tribe. They and the shape-shifters deal with hell all the time. Tribemasters because they’re fathered by demons, and shape-shifters since, w
ell, they carry the power of hell within them.”
This was not the pep talk I needed. My fright likely played across my face like my own personal march to death row. All I needed was an impending-doom sound track.
Hank and Tim stared back at me with empathy—well, as much as they were capable of. Hank even tried to make me feel better . . . in his own Hank-ish way. “Consider it a compliment. You’re a mutant who’s kicked a lot of ass.”
I slipped out of the car the moment we pulled into Misha’s compound. The Catholic schoolgirls immediately surrounded me. Maria sucked on a lollipop suggestively. “Celia, we are going to de Naughty Time Boutique. Want to come?”
Considering the company, the destination, and the bet they’d made, I didn’t have to think twice. “No, thanks.”
Edith stepped back so one of the vampires could haul Walt out of the other car. “Oh, but, Celia, it’s such a fun place. It’s more than just lingerie. They have games and toys.”
“Uhh, it’s not really my thing.”
The trunk popped open and someone retrieved Walt’s arms.
“Here.” Tim handed Liz a few bills. “Pick up some edible underwear for me. Two of my regulars really enjoy them.”
“What flavor?”
“I think they like strawberry.”
“Crotch or no crotch?”
“I don’t care. Surprise me.”
Agnes adjusted her glasses and scowled at me. “What’s with you?”
Hank answered. “She was approached by Drago.” The girls all gasped. “And he knows her by name.”
I was bombarded with questions. The commotion ground to a halt when a certain someone spoke out in a deadly voice. “And just how did that interaction take place if she was in the company of so many escorts?” Misha asked.
It took a lot of begging and pleading, but no one was killed. Well, except for Walt, but he was annoying anyway. It helped that Misha was both distracted and disturbed by Drago’s familiarity with me. At his request, I followed him inside and into the great room. We sat beside each other, facing the fireplace. He was unusually quiet. His fingertips touched in a praying position while his elbows remained on his lap. His unease worsened mine. I was sort of counting on him to raise my spirits.
Virginia entered carrying a large tray of food. She placed it on the table beside me and knelt before Misha. She unbuttoned her blouse and exposed her neck, along with one and a half breasts. Misha continued to stare straight ahead. “Not now, Virginia.”
She left without bothering to button her blouse, yet her lack of modesty wasn’t what needled me. Virginia knew the vampires had been ordered not to feed in front of me. The fact that she offered herself to Misha while I sat next to him was her way of telling me I didn’t matter.
“I had expected those who oppose us to become aware of you and your sisters,” Misha finally said. “And the magnitude of your collective power.”
I fought to keep my claws from protruding. “You think whoever is after me will go after my sisters?”
“Once it eliminates you, yes.” He paused and angled his head toward the large picture window. The breeze from the lake increased, hard enough to slap the branches of the closest fir against the pane. He rose from his chair and pushed open the thick lead glass. I followed him, watching as he lowered his lids and inhaled the mesmeric aroma of Tahoe’s magic. He nodded subtly, as if listening to a conversation. I mimicked his movements and strained my ears to hear . . . Nothing, just the wind, the flicker of branches, the light snow that swept up to splatter the glass.
When Misha acknowledged me, his beautiful face contorted with worry. “You remain the key to its end, Celia—not your sisters. This . . . enemy is convinced you will see to its destruction . . . and to those who follow it.”
My head spun, searching for what or who he could mean. A shape-shifter? Likely not. No one seemed to think I could kill one on my own. And how would killing one stop those that remained? A Tribemaster was more likely, but I’d have to kill a hell of a lot more to put an end to their reign. I ran a hand through my hair. Crap. This was not the uplifting talk I’d been hoping for. “How can I stop an invisible enemy? And how the hell could I possibly be the key?”
Misha took my hands and squeezed them. “I don’t know. But until we learn more of what seeks you, you are not to attend another mission.” I nodded, remaining quiet and lost in my thoughts. Misha lifted my chin to meet his face. “If it fears you, that means you can and will destroy it.”
Yeah, I thought. Unless it kills me first.
• • •
Misha let me drive to Dollar Point in the reinforced Ying-Ying mobile without escorts. It must have packed a hell of a punch if he deemed me safe to ride alone. Fear tensed my shoulders and threatened to chew on me like a bag of tortilla chips. I reached for my tigress, refusing to let it cripple me. Misha was right. If this unknown predator considered me such a menace, then maybe I could overcome it. As for the shape-shifters, I believed Tim was right. Drago and his pals likely didn’t see me as a threat . . . for now.
I heard Shayna howling in that pitiful way of hers and the wolves’ uproarious laughter the moment I pulled into the neighborhood. Taran greeted me with tears glistening in her blue eyes. “What did she say that time?” she asked the wolves behind her.
Liam roared and held his sides. Even the more sympathetic Danny and Gemini couldn’t control their hysterics. Bren had turned purple from lack of oxygen and Koda shoved a pillow over his face in an attempt to muffle his laughter.
“She said, ‘The hog in my kitchen ate my steering wheel,’” Liam sputtered.
Emme covered her mouth to hide her grin. “Shayna, what were you trying to say?”
Shayna pouted. “There’s a demon child in my house.”
Taran snorted. “Damn, Shayna. That wasn’t even close, girl.”
Bren tried to compose himself. “You should have seen her at the steakhouse. She howled, ‘There’s a pig wearing my panties!’ and then charged.”
Shayna’s face turned a color of red usually found only on Emme’s face. “Dude! You promised you wouldn’t tell them!”
“The wolves are trying to teach Shayna how to call for help,” Emme explained at the same time Taran asked what the hell was up with Shayna and pork. Everyone else exploded with laughter.
“Maybe you should just teach her the word ‘help,’” I offered.
Bren stopped laughing when he caught sight of my face. I hadn’t laughed or even managed a smile. “What’s wrong, kid?”
I leaned against the door to affect a more relaxed pose. “Have you guys ever heard of a shape-shifter named Drago?”
Shayna slumped on Koda’s lap. “What do you think I’m doing wrong, puppy?”
Koda, like the rest of the wolves, had lost his amusement. His voice dropped deeper than usual. “We’ll work on your calls later, baby.” To me he said, “Tell us.”
I relayed the morning’s events, including Misha’s chat with the lake. Danny paced, as he often did when he thought about things. “He left without attacking you or the vampires. That in itself is encouraging. But, like you, I don’t think a shape-shifter is what’s after you.”
“If it was, you sure as hell wouldn’t be standing here,” Bren ground out. He crossed and uncrossed his arms several times. His beast wanted to come out and gnaw on something. I hadn’t seen him so worked up in a long time. “Shit, Celia. Fighting those prick Tribesmen is bad enough, but those shape-shifters carry hell within them.”
Emme’s face blanched. “Th-they’re more powerful than Tribemasters?”
Gemini nodded. “In providing the blood sacrifices, they’re gifted with the might of their dark deity. Shape-shifters are the hardest of all evil beings to destroy.”
I pushed off from the door. “If they’re so badass, why would they care about me?”
Bren looke
d at me square in the eye. “Because you’re not supposed to have what they have.” He swore again when he caught my surprise. “Ceel, these mofos go through a lot of shit to gain the ability to assume any form. All you have to do is rub up against the nearest critter.”
“But I can’t control it!”
“They may not know that. But even if they did, it wouldn’t matter to them. You’re a threat!”
Gemini walked toward me in the heavy silence that followed. “Bren has a point. But I don’t believe the shape-shifters are the immediate enemy. Typically, these dark forces don’t align unless there’s something in it for them. Something is influencing them toward your direction.”
My gaze returned to Bren, his face strained with the effort to hold back his wolf. Good thing Danny was naturally calmer, and the others had my sisters to soothe them. A pack of agitated werewolves was the last thing I needed to deal with. “That’s what the vamps are saying, too.”
Shayna played with her fingers nervously while she continued sitting on Koda’s lap. “Do they have any idea who would send these creatures your way?”
I shook my head. “The Tribe still remains suspect number one.”
Bren walked over to hook an arm around me. I let out a small breath, thankful he’d finally managed to reel in his beast. I smiled warmly at him. He was a great friend to care so much. “Misha’s postponing my assignments for a while. I’ve wondered, though—if I lie low, will Drago target someone else?”
“With any luck, hell yeah,” Bren muttered.
I swallowed hard. “Not necessarily.”
Gemini watched me with interest, suspecting, I imagined, where my thought process was headed. “You’re worried about your sisters.” I nodded. “And Aric.” I didn’t have to answer him. He knew he was right. He sighed. “Aric is regarded as one of the most powerful weres in history. He remains the only one among our kind to have achieved his first change at less than two months of age. However, the level of his supremacy is yet to be recognized. When it is, then, yes, he will be stalked by the dark ones as well.” He returned to Taran and drew her into his arms. “And so will your family.”