Splintered Nights

by Veronica Del Rosa

  My life wouldn’t change. Vampires would continue hunting me nightly and I would fight for survival. One day, I’d lose the battle. But not today.

  Maxwell’s body burst apart, ash scattering into the air, and I covered my mouth. I wanted no other part of him inside of me. His blood disturbed me enough. The stake clattered to the ground.

  Halvar ghosted next to me, his giant hand clasping my shoulder. “Are you okay?”

  I wanted to shout at him. I wanted to rail against the horrors I’d seen and experienced. I wanted to sob uncontrollably. Instead, I nodded. “Yeah, I’m fine. How’s Jacy?”

  Turning around, I gazed at Jacy’s inert body, willing her to wake up.

  “She’ll be fine once she’s home and surrounded by her pack. Away from here.” Cole’s soft voice shattered my heart. I heard the unspoken words. Once she was away from me. “Come on, let’s go.”

  He picked up Jacy, cradling her in his arms like she was the most precious person in the world, and his pack fell in place behind him, blocking my view. I stayed frozen, unsure of my next move. Where would I go now?

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Halvar squeezed my shoulder and then nudged me forward. I shook my head. Following them wasn’t possible. In their pain, they might attack me, blaming me for everything. I didn’t belong with the werewolves.

  I covered the mic and whispered, “Did you find out anything else from the vampire?”

  Was anyone paying attention to my wire anymore? Did it matter?

  Halvar gave me an odd look, one I couldn’t decipher, then removed my hand from the mic.

  “No, the vampire won’t talk about her brethren. She had lovely things to say about you, though. Like the fact you’re Maxwell’s successor. He claimed you as his queen, and his children will obey you without question.” His words had a deeper meaning, and he smiled at my look of confusion. “Now that the werewolves hate you, maybe you should rule the vampires. It’ll keep the wolves at bay.”

  “Yeah, that has possibilities.” Instinct told me not to reject his statements outright. He was playing for an audience. Who? “I never wanted to be queen, but if it’ll protect me . . .”

  Halvar tapped something into his phone, then shoved in front of my face. It took me a second to focus on the word.

  Traitor.

  Jacy was still in danger. Cole had forgotten about his traitor, but she could still ID him.

  Shit, I’d forgotten about the traitor, too. Was Halvar trying to flush him out? If the werewolf figured I wasn’t a threat, he’d focus his attention on Jacy and keeping her quiet.

  I picked up my pace.

  “The hunters would love an inside person with the vampires, a way for us to neutralize them without any casualties.” Halvar matched my speed, though I suspected he’d shortened his stride so as not to leave me behind. “What say you? Take over as queen and help us eradicate the monsters?”

  I gave him a sidelong glance, unsure if he meant it or if his words were for the traitor. The idea of leading vampires into a slaughter didn’t sit right with me. I hated the creatures, so why wasn’t I heartily agreeing to his words?

  He squeezed my arm and gave me another look I couldn’t decipher. This silent communication sucked.

  The gloom around us lightened as we approached the mouth of the tunnel. Sweet, clear air teased my nose and I speed-walked to the exit. Next time I had to meet with a monster, I’d choose the location—somewhere in the open where I could see the sky and smell fresh air. No more sewer walks for me.

  If the wolves had arrived in vehicles, I couldn’t tell. They’d all disappeared, leaving behind one car.

  “Give me a lift back?” I asked as I walked towards the passenger side. The doors unlocked, which I took as a yes, and I hopped in.

  I twisted my fingers together, worry for Jacy gnawing at my gut, and I remained silent for the drive. Inconsequential small talk was beyond me and I couldn’t ask Halvar what his odd looks had meant. Once we were at the house and I removed the wire, I’d pump him for information.

  He parked in Cole’s crowded driveway and I jumped out of the SUV to race inside the house. I had to find Jacy. Anything could’ve happened.

  I shoved my way through the small circle created by Michelle, Arthur, and Baris. A quick scan of the foyer revealed Lex, Omar, and Nyle talking together as well. Were the alphas planning on outing Cole from his position while he was vulnerable, or were they here to provide support?

  Doug leaned against the staircase, his eyes red-rimmed, and he shoved a shaking hand through his hair. I raced over and grabbed his arm.

  “Where is she? Tell me. Please.” I wasn’t above begging for information, even from Doug. To his credit, he didn’t pull away or sneer at me.

  “Upstairs. She’s in Cole’s room. She might—” Doug’s voice broke and he cleared his throat. “She might not make it. She’s lost a lot of blood.”

  My knees locked and my heart stopped for a second.

  I’d killed her.

  No, she wasn’t dead yet. She was strong, stronger than she realized. Her body would heal.

  “Why’d Cole bring her here? Why not a hospital?” I asked, the question nagging at me.

  Doug shook his head, but Omar answered for him. My heart jumped at his sudden appearance. “Doctors can’t heal us. The alpha of the pack can, though. He’s transferring his energy to her. It’ll speed up her natural regeneration.”

  “And human blood isn’t compatible with ours,” Doug added. “The doctors would examine her further if they saw her blood.”

  I nodded, more for something to do than to indicate my understanding. My knowledge of medicine was limited. The differences between human and werewolf blood had never crossed my mind.

  I crossed my arms, hugging myself tight, desperate to keep my emotions in check. My best friend was dying because of me. Bursting into tears would make me look weak, no matter how much relief I’d find in letting go. Did the pack know I’d stabbed her? Did they hate me as much as I hated myself?

  “How long will it take? When will he be done? When can I see her?” Questions tumbled from my mouth unbidden, and I snapped my jaw shut, clenching my teeth to keep other questions from spewing forth.

  Doug shook his head.

  “It could take anywhere from several hours to several days.” Omar rested his hand on my shoulder. I tensed, squashing the urge to shake his hand off of me. His comforting gesture meant he didn’t hold me responsible. But I was and I didn’t deserve to feel better about myself.

  “Always so ingratiating.” Michelle’s voice slithered through the murmur of the crowd. My head snapped up and I glared at the insensitive, self-righteous bitch. She just gave me a faint, mocking grin in return. Why was she here? She didn’t like Jacy, didn’t care if Jacy lived or died.

  My body vibrated with anger. I wanted to march over and smack her in the face like she deserved. She wouldn’t even see it coming, since the elegantly refined lady would never expect someone to call her on her shit.

  “She’s not worth it,” Omar said, his fingers squeezing my shoulder. Keeping me in place? “She’s placed herself above the scum of the race and wouldn’t care if you told her off. People like her never think about the dregs of society unless they find a way to use us. You’re nothing to her.”

  Anger and distaste coated his words, and the barely concealed venom gave me pause. Omar hated Michelle even more than I did. I wasn’t shocked, since her personality rubbed me raw and I’d only known her for a few weeks, but I’d expected her to treat Omar with a smidgen of respect since they were both alphas.

  “She doesn’t care you’re an alpha?” I asked, shamelessly pumping him for information. “I thought you alphas stuck together.”

  Doug snorted, a sound chock-full of disgust. There’s the boss I knew and hated. Guess my stupid questions overrode any worry for Jacy. Or maybe he’d latched on to our familiar animosity to distract himself from feelings of helplessness. If the latter, I couldn’t blame
him. I needed the distraction, too.

  “Not sure why Cole is so enamoured with you,” Doug said. “You know nothing about our world.”

  “Correct, because no one tells me a damn thing. I’m not a werewolf, jackass. Maybe if someone answered my questions, I wouldn’t be so clueless.” Holy shit, it felt fantastic to let loose at Doug. At this moment, my job was a distant memory, and I no longer cared if he fired me. I sagged a little, shocked at my thoughts.

  Omar coughed, though it sounded suspiciously like a chuckle. “I’m not well-liked because I’m an Infected. I wasn’t born a werewolf.”

  “I wasn’t born a werewolf either,” Doug said, “but you don’t hear me whining about it.”

  Omar growled, amber shining in his eyes. “What’d you say? I’d like you to repeat that.”

  “Boys, boys, please, now is not the time to fight.” Michelle sauntered between them, amusement threading her voice. Unlike the others, no hint of red stained her eyes.

  “What do you want?” I asked, not bothering to hide my annoyance. At this point, what the werewolf thought of me meant nothing. “Why are you even here? Are you sucking up to Cole?”

  Michelle stopped short, her expression stunned, and for a moment I thought she might hit me. I wanted her to. A fight would release the energy zipping through my body. Railing at the universe would get me nothing, but a good brawl would clear my mind of everything. Therapy by way of blood and pain.

  “I like Jacy,” Michelle hissed, her refined mask dropping for a second, revealing naked anguish. “I care what happens to her.”

  Oddly enough, I believed her. “Then you have a damn strange way of showing it. You treat her like she’s garbage, like she’s beneath you. I’d hate to see how you treat someone that you hate.” A scathing chuckle slipped out. “Oh wait, I have seen how you treat someone you hate.”

  I pointed both thumbs back at me in case she was as dense as she was beautiful.

  Michelle rolled her eyes, a move I hadn’t expected from the elegant alpha. Acting like an annoyed teenager seemed too common. “Not all of us have pleasant personalities. I learned long ago to embrace who I am even when it exasperates and angers other people. I’ll never be sweet and I don’t want to be.”

  Omar curled his lip, unimpressed. Having experienced her scathing attitude, I agreed with his reaction. And her self-awareness meant she could’ve changed her behaviour, acted nicer to others. Unless she found fear worked better to keep her pack in line. Maybe her werewolves were a bunch of jerks, too.

  Doug shifted his weight, hands in his pockets. The other two ignored him, too busy staring each other down. If someone didn’t stop the alphas, they’d brawl. It wouldn’t be me, though. I didn’t care about their interpersonal problems. My interactions with the pack were over. With Maxwell dead, I wasn’t useful to the werewolves anymore, a fact I embraced. The still-open door behind me taunted me.

  I glanced at the staircase, and my heart squeezed as another truth hit me. If Jacy died, I wouldn’t leave Cole’s house alive.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  I took the stairs two at a time, reaching the top of the massive staircase in ten seconds, then ran towards Cole’s bedroom.

  “Pearle, wait a moment.” Omar’s urgent tone halted my headlong dash and I spun around. My brows crinkled. He’d beat me up here? God I wanted werewolf speed. Omar stood in the doorway of my bedroom—correction, my old bedroom, since I doubted I’d sleep there again, not after Cole kicked me out.

  Curiosity dragged me away from Cole’s bedroom. If I was honest, I welcomed postponing the crushing guilt and sorrow I’d feel the moment I saw Jacy clinging to life. As long as Cole remained in his bedroom with her, she would survive. A rationalization, one I clutched at, or I’d break down.

  I followed Omar into the room, my attention focused on him.

  “What’s up?” I asked, resting my hip on the dresser. Sitting on the bed felt a little too cosy.

  “The other packs will never accept you.” He leaned against the wall near me, his tone that of a confidant. “You’re a human marked by a vampire. I can smell it from here.”

  My gaze slid to the window opposite me while I smirked at his useless information. As if I were unaware of how the werewolves viewed me. Doug and Michelle had made their thoughts clear, and the rest of Cole’s pack had always avoided me.

  “Yeah? Is that so?” I asked. What was his point? I doubted he cared about my feelings or wellbeing. I toyed with the hairbrush, running my fingers over the bristles.

  “You’ve seen the way werewolves treat anyone who’s different from them.” He snorted and I flicked a glance his way. He didn’t sound completely stable. “Ironic, really, considering that to humans, they’re monsters. But in their eyes, they’re the superior race. And vampires are corrupted humans, ones who don’t deserve to live. That’s the real reason behind the war. Werewolves are bigots. They just don’t want anyone else to know it.”

  Omar shoved off the wall and paced the room, his fists shoved into his pants pocket. Tension streamed off him, making the hairs on my arms stand at attention. I curled my fingers around the brush, aware it’d make for a shitty weapon, but at least I’d have something. Screaming wouldn’t help, since the room was soundproof.

  “I thought it was territory disputes,” I said mildly, not wanting to argue with his assessment. If I agreed with his anger towards his fellow kin, maybe he’d view me as a potential ally. Anything to keep me unharmed while trapped with a fuming werewolf, one who stayed a little too close to the door. I couldn’t escape.

  “They’d like you to believe that. Maybe the alphas have lied long enough that they actually believe it.” Omar raked his fingers through his shaggy hair and his eyes flashed amber, a sure sign the human side wasn’t in full control. “They’re good at twisting history to suit themselves.”

  I bit the corner of my lip, discarding anything that might incite him further. How did one speak to an off-kilter monster? Pander to his ego? “But you’re not like them. You see the truth.”

  He tossed me a lopsided smile, which melted into a snarl. “Yeah, I see the truth. Baris and Nyle have the others firmly under their thumb because Cole is too damn soft. He lets them rule in his stead. For the past five years, he’s been obsessed.” He cocked his head to the side, studying me. “Now that I’ve met you, I can understand why.”

  I rolled my eyes. Another admirer I didn’t need. “Uh-huh, yep, I’m special all right. And boring. You’ve led a fascinating life, though. How long you’ve been an alpha?”

  “Almost a century,” Omar growled. Ah shit, I’d touched a nerve. He walked from the bed to the wall and back again, his stride faster with each turn. If he kept it up, soon I wouldn’t see him move; he’d be a blur. “I bested my alpha. Challenged him and won. I should’ve had the respect of my pack and the other packs—of Cole—but I don’t. They treat me like an interloper. View me as a disease. Someone who shouldn’t be with them. One who didn’t have the decency to die when I was bitten. Do you know how many survive the werewolf bite?”

  I shook my head. More information kept from me. It wasn’t hard to let disgust slip into my voice. “No. Is it a small percentage? Cole wanted to bite me, since he can’t take a human mate.”

  No one other than Jacy knew about Cole’s plans, and I wasn’t sure why I was telling Omar, but I trusted my instincts. If he thought we were on the same side, he’d let me in on his secrets. I doubted he had a confidant, which meant his innermost thoughts festered in his mind. Spilling his dirty deeds to another would be a relief. And what dirt weighed on the alpha’s soul? What would he share with me?

  “See? He doesn’t care you have less than a one-percent chance of surviving.”

  “What?” I squeaked. Cole had been so eager to gamble with my life? And, fuck, Isaac. Hatred for the alpha who’d attacked me twisted in my gut. I’d been a toddler when he’d bitten me.

  “Yes, exactly! Worst, most die in agonizing pain. And the ones who survive
wish they’d died. I suffered for over a week. And you know what my werewolf sire did for me? Absolutely fucking nothing!”

  Omar slammed his fist into the wall, cracking the drywall. He yanked his hand free and dust showered around him. My fingers crept to my throat. Did I keep pushing him or back off? One wrong word would direct his madness towards me.

  “That must’ve been horrible,” I whispered, images of Omar—of myself—begging for death slashing across my mind. “What happened to your sire?”

  He turned, grinning, and I shivered. Nothing pleasant lived in his expression. “I made him suffer like I had. I waited until I was stronger. I learned how to maximize pain in a werewolf. Did you know shattered bones are almost as painful as amputation? He screamed for hours after I pulverised his foot. It took almost a day to heal and then I did it again.”

  Holy fuck, he was insane. I swallowed hard, worried he’d smell my fear. “Was he your alpha as well?” I wasn’t sure why I kept him talking. It’s not like I wanted to write his biography.

  He stalked closer to me and placed his hands on either side of my head, trapping me between him and the dresser. Leaning closer, he inhaled deep. I dug my fingers into the wooden edge, anger edging out the fear. One well-aimed head butt would break his nose and then I’d nail him in the balls. I wasn’t a scared human who’d just seen her first monster. I’d fight back if he pushed me further.

  Omar chuckled and he pushed backwards, putting space between us. “There’s the warrior I expected. Fear is useless and will make you weak. You need strength for the next stage.”

  “And what stage is that?” My eyes narrowed. Fucking with my emotions didn’t endear him to me.

  “You’re Maxwell’s successor, which means you control his children.” Excitement surfaced, underscoring his insanity. He rubbed a palm against his scruffy chin. “Do you know what that means?”