by Casey Lane
“The pack have decided to hunt us. They will be here within the hour. We are going to split into two groups: you and Xave, me and Nick. You run hard and you run fast.”
But— “The pack?”
Mama nodded, strands of her honey-colored hair sticking to her sweaty forehead. “Go now.”
“We should go together.” But Mama took the satchel that Xave had packed, put it on Ari, and propelled her out the door.
“Run.”
And she did, the forest thick around her. The smells were comforting: pine and oak, orchards, and cattle – the pack’s stock. She wanted to go back, to hide with Mama and Nick, but she’d learned not to disobey her mother. Mama was soft and kind, except when Ari or the boys were naughty, and then she got mad. And that wasn’t good.
Xave kept pace, barely. Ari slowed down a little. She was super-fast, but while Xave smelled like a wolf, he couldn’t shift, so he didn’t quite have their speed. Every now and then, he would make them hide, and they’d hear growls and pants pass by whatever dark hole they’d crawled into. But the pack never found them.
Once, Ari heard a scream, high and long and pained.
“They’ll be fine,” Xave said, as if reading her thoughts.
But she knew he was lying.
“Where are we going?”
“To Father.”
How’d Xave know who Father was? Mama had never told them. “Where?”
“It’s a long way away. But he will protect us.”
“He doesn’t even know about us. Mama said.”
Xave didn’t respond. Instead, they ran and they ran and they ran.
And Ari never did see Mama or Nick again.
Sebastian Tailen stared at the remnants of his pack. At least half of them were lying scattered over a grass meadow in the center of the pack’s little town, the stench of rot already beginning to set in. Blood and entrails draped over torn limbs, and some bodies had been ripped apart: a leg here, an arm way over there.
He’d been gone four days. Just four fucking days. And chaos had erupted.
“What the fuck happened?” he asked, turning to Irvin. He’d found the old were tied up in the slaughterhouse, alongside two other pack members.
“They wanted to kill the pups.”
Sebastian wasn’t stupid enough to ask which pups. There were only three who’d ever been at risk. It’s why he’d stepped up, become alpha. To protect their right to live.
“But why are so many dead?”
“Lyla. Never get between a bitch and her young.” Irvin’s lip curled. “They got what they deserved.”
“But this—” He waved a hand.
“She was fourth generation.”
So much power, so old. From somewhere on the field of death came a wet cough. Sebastian hadn’t thought there anyone was alive; he ran to the sound and crouched down.
Lyla.
She was covered in blood, but most of it wasn’t hers, by the scent of it. She was curled protectively around a small figure, the white skin and hair marking it as one of her pups. The boy’s eyes were shut, and his chest didn’t move. Long thin slices covered his body, and there was a stab wound over his heart.
Sebastian’s gut clenched. To hurt a pup…
A soft whisper. Leaning down, Sebastian placed his ear close to her mouth.
“Ashes to ashes…”
“Lyla, what happened?”
She turned dull yellow eyes on him. The pain in them slicing through him. “They wanted to kill the babies. I couldn’t let them. But Nick, he knew. He saw it. He bought them time to get away. I did what I could.”
She’d been more than strong enough to be alpha, if she’d done all this. It made him nervous, knowing this brutality had been lurking within his pack for years, and them none the wiser.
He leaned forward again, voice projecting a calm he didn’t feel. “Where are Aria and Xavier?”
Lyla shut her eyes, blood leaking from her mouth. “Gone to their father.” And then she turned inward, clutching the dead boy – Nick – close to her chest. Holding him safe, in death.
Then over and over again, she murmured, “Ashes to ashes…”
Dust to dust.
Chapter Two
Present Day, Skarva City
Someone was following her.
Ari pretended that she hadn’t detected the shadow, pulling her navy-blue cloak up higher over her head. Why someone would be trailing her, she didn’t know, but she wasn’t about to stop and ask them why.
Ducking down a stone-lined alley, she hurried her steps. The passage stank of refuse, horses, and other gross things. Not that horses smelled bad, but their little…deposits sure did. Buildings soared high overhead, limiting the moonlight that crept into the narrow space, their windows lit with a dull, flickering yellow. Candlelight: this area of town couldn’t afford the more expensive gas lamps. It meant there was no street lighting, which was bad for the humans that lived here, but good for her.
Part of her almost felt sorry for the mortals who called this part of town home; they were easy prey. Not all vampires were willing to ask for permission before draining a human of blood. Sure, there were laws about that kind of thing, but when a human was high on vampire saliva, they were unlikely to remember if they’d said yay or nay. Even less likely if they were dead. But if you chose to live in a vampire-run city, then those were the risks you took.
She couldn’t smell the species of the person trailing her; they were downwind, and there was the whole alley-stench thing going on, as well. It could have been anyone following her, and when you were the daughter of one of the four rulers of Skarva, that was dangerous.
Although, Ari preferred to think of it as interesting.
Ducking into a darkened stoop – eww, the urine smell was potent – she waited to see if the person would stroll by, but the footsteps had stopped. Whoever it was, they were keen on staying incognito.
Normally, she might turn the tables and stalk them, but she was on a deadline. Her father was due back in thirty minutes, and she was supposed to have been home at the estate all night. Reading.
Ha.
More than sixty years old, and treated like a recalcitrant child. Probably because whenever she was near her father, she acted like one. They didn’t get along. That was probably the best – aka nicest – way to describe their relationship.
Pulling out her gold pocket watch, she checked the time. She was going to have to hurry. Ah, well. She’d had a good night. Peering out from the protection of the recessed doorway, she saw no one – her stalker was good – and decided that if they knew enough to follow her, they probably had heard the rumors that she was fast.
With a burst of speed, she ducked out into the alleyway, the cobbles slippery under her feet. It had rained during the night, but then, it always rained here – at least, that’s what it felt like. Skarva was a damp place, especially compared to the forests where she’d spent the first decade of her life.
But better not to think of that.
Righting herself on the pavement, she leapt straight up onto the rooftop of a two-story dwelling. Have fun following me now. Now she was out of sight, presumably, she started running. Even if her stalker was a vampire, they’d struggle to keep up; she made weres look slow. Suffice to say, there was no way a human could even try to match her pace.
Just to make sure she lost her tail, Ari chose to duck through the Duchess of Roses’ estate. It was way too easy to break into the townhouse. A picked lock, a shimmy up a wall, another picked lock, and voilà! She was in.
She doubted her father knew of her breaking and entering skills, and she was happy to keep him ignorant of such. But she needed the practice, and this was the second-closest vampire holding to her father’s. Better to have her tail get lost here, rather than in the Duchess of Ravens’ estate, which was technically closer. While that particular vampire was apparently on a holiday in the city of Pinton, Ari wasn’t about to take a chance on her being home. Ari didn’t want her
stalker turned into mincemeat. Literally. The Duchess of Ravens was nuts. Like, rip-your-throat-out-and-then-invite-you-to-dinner-afterward nuts.
But even if the Duchess of Roses’ bloodlust paled in comparison to the genocidal mania of the Duchess of Ravens, she was still murderous, and it wouldn’t be good if Ari was caught wandering in the estate. Time to get a move on. She skulked down an over-decorated hallway, before slipping into the library and froze.
“Oh, harder, harder!”
Nope.
A million times nope.
The Duchess of Roses’ daughter and a servant were getting kinky right there, surrounded by hundreds of tomes. Ari hadn’t thought a body could bend that way, but apparently… She winced and backed away fast. The Duchess of Roses’ daughter wasn’t good people. Like, torture-kittens-for-fun kind of people. And Ari could see the woman’s sex life was heading in that same direction. Her lover was bleeding all over and she wasn’t sure the human spine could recover from that kind of angle.
Wondering if she could bleach her eyes clean, she quickly exited the library before anyone realized she’d ever been inside.
Those poor books.
That poor man.
Although, he might have chosen the…fun time. Who knew? It certainly wasn’t Ari’s place to interfere. But now she had some interesting information she might be able to pursue. How many of those lovers had survived? She’d be making a few notes in her little black book when she arrived home.
Hurrying down the hallway, Ari snuck out of a side door and into the gardens. This was what made the duchess’ estate special. The heady and overpowering scent of roses filled the air, making it hard for Ari to pick out the guards that might be lurking in the foliage. The flowers were beautiful – she was tempted to steal one or fifty, but it would give away the fact that she’d been out and about.
Running through the garden, she headed straight for the perimeter wall, leaping over it with ease. Quickly she wove her way through the streets, sometimes over the rooftops of buildings, and a few minutes later she was home. Well, as much of a home as someone like her might have.
The walls of the Duke of Ashes’ town estate soared much higher than that of the Duchess of Roses’ or Ravens’, and inside there were fewer gardens and more work areas. Her father was interested primarily in industry, not beauty.
Scaling the boundary, Ari stilled. A figure was sneaking through the courtyard. She sniffed…and almost fell from the top of the stone wall. That scent.
It was utterly delicious.
She’d never detected anything like it before in her life, which meant that there was a stranger wandering around the estate. That was unacceptable: only Ari was allowed to go skulking about town, sticking her nose into other peoples’ business. Reciprocity of that nature was unwelcome.
As silent as she could be, she climbed down the wall and approached the stranger. She breathed through her mouth, so the caramel and fig aroma of the newcomer didn’t distract her. Closer, she could see the figure’s broad shoulders and height marked the spy as male, and there was a faint smell of wolf on the air. Her own wolf scratched, wanting out.
Not now.
She didn’t have time for that; she just hoped her own beast stayed put, inside her skin.
The unknown were tensed to leap up a wall to the inner courtyard, and that’s when she moved.
Jumping on his back, she used the power of her strike to force him to the ground. He hit the compacted earth with a thud, her knees pressed into his lower spine, her hands on his upper back. She quickly pulled one of his arms behind him, wrenching his shoulder.
It wasn’t the same person who was tailing her, she’d put money on that. There was no way they could have beaten her back home, and while they’d been impressive in their ability to stay hidden, she doubted they’d have made it into her father’s estate. And there was his scent. If she’d got even the remotest whiff of it before…no, it was a completely different person.
So why were there two people acting shady tonight? Aside from herself, of course.
The were twisted under her to throw her off, but she didn’t budge. She was a lot stronger than she looked.
“Who are you and what do you want?” she growled.
Chapter Three
Sebastian had been pinned rather effectively, and from the weight of it, by a rather small person. It was a tad humiliating, what with him being a six-foot-four-inch-tall werewolf who was packed solidly with muscle. There weren’t all that many people who would attack someone like him.
Especially not if they knew he was an alpha.
Those knees pressed hard into his back, right on his kidneys, and his shoulder was screaming at him, like it was on the verge of popping right out of its socket. What’s more, his cheek was grazed by its impact with the ground: it stung. It was a good thing that, as a were, he could heal pretty much any wound, otherwise he’d be worried right about now.
A low but feminine voice growled in his ear. “Who are you and what do you want?”
He took a deep breath, to get a lock on her scent, but there was nothing. Night air, coal smoke, and the estate, which had the tang of blacksmiths, leather and old sweat, but the woman herself was invisible to his wolf’s nose. Which was impossible. Everyone had a unique perfume.
“Name’s Sebastian.” He figured it couldn’t hurt, admitting who he was. He had been invited to visit the estate, after all.
Just not tonight.
Tonight? Well, he’d been doing a little reconnaissance, working out why he – an alpha werewolf with no pack – had been invited to a vampire estate. The two did not normally mix, especially when the were had his reputation. Besides, the Duke of Ashes wasn’t known to be a very welcoming sort of vampire.
“Sebastian what?” She was a suspicious little thing. He liked that about her.
How had she masked her scent?
“Fair’s fair. You haven’t told me your name yet.”
“You’re the one skulking around this estate, not me.”
Suspicious and pragmatic. What a combination. Unfortunately, he liked women with bite.
You don’t like her, you don’t even know her.
Well, that was a blow. His mind was always the party pooper.
He contorted to look at her over his shoulder, but couldn’t quite crane his neck to the right angle. From what he could see, her face was cloaked by some kind of hood. “I was just having a look around.”
“Why?”
“Thinking about moving into the neighborhood.”
“Right. There’s plenty of ways you can scope the city out, and none of them include sneaking through the Duke of Ashes’ estate. You do know what happens to foreign weres who visit vampire estates uninvited?”
“Ah, but you presume that I was not invited.”
“I would have known.”
“Would you, little lady?”
“Little lady?”
Maybe he’d made a mistake with that one. She certainly seemed to think so. The next thing he knew, he was on his back, head being banged against the pavement. Hard. His ears rang.
Had that really been necessary?
Then she was leaning down over him, but no longer pinning him to the ground. That’s confident of her. Or foolhardy.
One bright violet eye peered at him, the other hidden by an eye patch. A vampire with an eye patch? It was rare for a leech to have an injury they couldn’t recover from. They were like weres – if it was a physical injury not caused by silver, or wood in a vampire’s case, then it could be healed. Perhaps she had a birth defect?
But the extra-odd thing was that she didn’t smell like a leech; no icy-cool stench of blood. Yet she was definitely a vamp – yellow eyes were for weres, purple for vampires, with humans taking the other colors.
He studied her, learning as much as possible about his attacker. From what he could see under the hood, her face was fine-boned and pretty, with full lips and a pointy chin. Too pointy; it made him think of stubbornne
ss. Her hair was covered, and her body was largely obscured by the cloak, but she was petite, dainty like a dandelion.
Then, as he examined her, she whispered a word, a shocked, broken sound.
“Alpha?”
She backed away fast, almost tripping over, her visible eye sparkling with recognition. Sebastian didn’t remember her, though, and he should have; he wasn’t old enough yet that he’d forget a face like hers.
He sat up, the gravel crunching beneath him, the grazes on his cheek and chin healing as he moved. Narrowing his gaze on her, he focused her features, but there was nothing…except maybe something familiar about the shape of her face.
“What’s your name?” he asked.
“Like you don’t know.”
“Would I ask if I did?”
Throwing back the hood on her cloak, she tilted her chin in challenge. The moon glowed behind her, casting the night in silvery relief; the empty blacksmiths, the packed earth, the piles of unprocessed metal. And her. Her long hair was tied back in a braid, the honey color glimmering, and her face was bathed in soft shadow.
She removed her eyepatch.
Sebastian’s heartbeat stuttered, restarted with a kick that had him gasping.
Her mouth twisted cruelly. “How many children has your pack turned on? Too many to remember?”
Her mismatched stare bore through him. One violet eye, one yellow eye. The perfect vampire-were hybrid. The child that should never have existed.
The child his pack had decided was an abomination.
Her brothers, the two albino boys, had been bad enough. There was an unwritten law for weres and vampires that albino children had to be put down at birth. Sebastian’s father hadn’t agreed with that, and neither had he: they’d fought the pack against it. There was no law about a were-vampire hybrid, but that was simply because there’d never been one before. The pack hadn’t cared either way; they’d just wanted all the pups destroyed.
Supposedly, they’d bring bad luck.
What a bunch of superstitious nonsense.
“No,” he said, answering her question at last, “there have been no others.”