by Claudy Conn
She climbed inside, watched him turn and leave, and made her way into her shower.
Some thirty minutes later, fresh and dressed, she made her way to the kitchen and found Carmen talking with her mom at the kitchen table.
Carmen stood and her hands went to her hips.
Her mother got to her feet and went to the counter, where she had obviously been baking.
Belva Bracken glanced over her shoulder at her daughter and smiled as she asked, “Feel better, daughter?”
“Feel better? I should think she would.” Carmen’s voice was high pitched. She took Zoie’s arm and led her to the huge kitchen table. “Sit yourself down and tell me what is going on. Your mother wouldn’t say a word. Said it wasn’t her place, but yours! So speak, chica, speak!”
Zoie’s happiness rushed through her and she hugged her friend. “Carmen…oh, so much has happened.” She sat back and said, “Where do I start?”
Her mother joined them at the table. Zoie took a moment, then began reciting the details of her day, leaving only the specific aspects of her lovemaking with Owen out of her story.
“A house? He bought you a house the day after he saw you?” She snorted. “Well, look at that, I was wrong. He isn’t a player…at least, not anymore.” She reached over and patted her friend’s hand. “I am so happy for you.”
Her mother hugged her and said, “Now…we need to go shopping for furniture.”
They all laughed, then Zoie eyed Carmen. “Okay, you, now it’s your turn. What about you and Brock? I can smell him all over you.”
“Zoie—your mother!”
“I can smell him, too,” Zoie’s mom teased.
“So, he marked you, didn’t he? The night of the scenting?” Zoie demanded to know.
“Yes and…”
Zoie gasped. “You mated? Carmen…my sister!”
Hugging and laughter went around the room and didn’t stop for some time as Zoie’s mom pulled out ‘Bride’ magazines and laid them on the kitchen table, saying, “I have been collecting these.”
They were interrupted as Ralphie exploded into the kitchen. “There is trouble. Brock and Dad are already calling on the pack.”
Zoie studied her brother. He was red-headed like their father, tall and lean, and had their mother’s dark eyes. She saw at once that whatever had happened was deadly serious.
“What is it?”
“We are calling a meeting with the alphas of the Wolfe pack and the Blue Creek vampires. Word has it that the vamps have made a deal with Rocco. We have to nip it in the bud.” He eyed his sister. “Zoie, you are friends…you and Carmen, with quite a few of that clan. Your hybrid said he heard quite a few vamps talking about wanting to make a deal with Rocco.”
“Drake is…as vampires go, a good leader. He and the Wolfe clan have always been cordial,” Zoie’s mom said.
“I don’t know,” Zoie’s brother answered. “He is hard to read. He and I have never really exchanged much conversation, and if his clan voted to join in with Rocco…I just don’t know.”
“My friends have always held that Drake is dark, but also a bit of a loner, even in his clan. I don’t see him joining in with Rocco.”
“Yeah, but if his clan is gathering for some kind of big meeting, then something is up,” stuck in Ralphie.
Zoie and Carmen were up and headed for the door.
Ralphie had his hands on his mother’s shoulders. “No, Mom…please, you stay here. We’ll be back before you know it.”
His mom stepped out of her son’s hold. “Ralphie, since when does the son of an alpha tell his mother what to do and get away with it? I am coming to stand beside your father.”
Ralphie conceded this even as Zoie cocked a grin at him.
A few moments later, they were all piled in her mother’s dark SUV and headed for the meeting place, which bordered the Blue Creek Village town line.
Zoie chewed her bottom lip all the while. She had to think this out, she told herself. She knew the Blue Creek vampires had once been bloodsuckers that drank human blood. They came to Drake because they hated what they were and had been rehabilitated, much like an addict of drugs or alcohol.
So what did that mean? Sure, they could fall off the wagon and they would go to a supplier, right? Was Rocco advancing himself as a human supplier?
There was no getting away from it. They had always been a peaceable lot as far back as she could remember. But addiction to what you would naturally crave was a hard life.
There were other vampires in the vicinity that drank human blood. Apparently, it was a new fad for a human to offer up blood in exchange for excitement and the chance to be turned. Cult-like in its atmosphere, but no denying it existed.
What had Rocco promised all these vampires other than a ready supply of humans?
Chapter Eleven
DRAKE STOOD IN the clearing, with his long black leather coat open to display a white silk shirt, and black leather pants. He was tall, even with his strong legs spread apart and his boots planted firmly on the ground.
He looked like a vamp that was ready for whatever was about to be thrown at him. He looked like a leader who would not be dictated to under any circumstances.
His arms were crossed at his massive chest and his dark eyes gave away no secrets. His expression was aloof bordering on derisive.
Zoie had never interacted with the ancient vampire, but she had seen him on many occasions. She had cataloged him in her mind as the most broody type of being she had ever seen. He was certainly good-looking, but a darkly mysterious being who gave nothing away.
Looking at him now, she was convinced that her first impression, which was right from the gut, was most definitely correct.
She didn’t have enough information to like or dislike him, but she found she was not at all repulsed by him, and rather thought he would never throw in with Rocco.
Now, with vampire blood in her veins, she had the capacity to understand him and a vampire’s point of view regarding life and humans better than she had before. Also, her senses were heightened in every manner, and she could pick up on who amongst his clan were unusually and markedly nervous. Telling. That was very telling. She stared at each of the four vampires that gave off this vibe. They looked away.
Vampires weren’t shackled by morals and ethics as humans and even shifters often were. They drank blood to survive, just as humans raise and slaughter animals to eat. They made no excuses for what they were.
The Blue Creek Vampire Clan had never, in her lifetime, been cold-blooded killers, but was that need to kill and drink their fill a craving they always had to suppress? Would frustration lead them into a deal with Rocco? Had he promised them all the humans they could want? Was that what was going on here? Would they throw away their vow to drink only animal or synthetic blood?
That was an answer that only time would give her.
She knew many of the members of Drake’s clan, and believed that most of them would not go for this. Still, others might see it as a way of getting off their leash and being who and what they really were.
She had learned early on that rogues not only existed in the shifter packs, but in the vampire world as well. Too many of those rogue vamps enjoy more than a drink—they enjoy the hunt, the seduction, and the kill, and those vamps might be listening too closely to Rocco and influencing the Blue Creek vamps.
One thing was clear; everyone knew why this meeting had been called, and no one was backing away from the question that hung in the air—had the local vampire clan thrown in their lot with Rocco?
Drake stared hard at Owen, who had arrived with the Wolfes and took a stance beside Zoie. He shook his head before quietly asking, “Why are you getting involved in this?”
“Because it suits me,” Owen said uncompromisingly.
“Does it now?” Drake asked. “And what are you—vampire or wolf?”
“You know the answer to that. I am both…the best of both,” Owen answered, his lip curling.
&nbs
p; Zoie watched the two, wondering how long they knew each other and if they—Drake and Owen, were friends.
Drake turned to look at Tristan Wolfe, who Zoie knew had always called the ancient vampire an ally. “And you, old friend…what say you?”
“I say that my good friend has lived with us in peace and would not be interested in anything that Rocco has to offer,” Tristan answered.
“I believe in direct speaking,” Zoie’s father added. “Rocco is not the alpha of the Rahound pack. Caleb is. Instead of challenging Caleb in the usual fashion, Rocco has declared war on us all. We stand with Caleb. Do you stand with Rocco and his rogues, or with us?”
“Do I need to take a stand? I am inclined to keep my clan well out of a war, your Caleb doesn’t seem to have the guts to go after Rocco and finish this,” Drake answered, eyeing both alpha shifters.
“We have known you a very long time and trust you, Drake, but we believe that Rocco is offering a very tempting deal to throw in with him.”
“Rest easy, then. I have turned him down on several occasions. I have asked the members of my family…my clan to resist, on fear of being turned away forever if they throw in their lot with him. You should not have had to ask this question of me. You should have known the answer,” Drake said, and arched a brow.
Zoie locked eyes with Zena, a tall brunette in the Gothic style and a vampire of uncertain age that had been turned when she was not even nineteen. She still looked nineteen. They had always been friends, but Zena had confided that when she was near humans, it took great control to curb her appetite.
She and Zena had developed a mind link when they were in school. She used it now to ask, Zena, has Rocco promised to deliver humans in exchange for the vampires’ help?
Yes, Zena replied. I know a few who are tempted, some who have already left us and joined his pack.
Can you tell us who they are?
No, suffice it that you know that a few of our clan have left us for Rocco, and be aware that they will be desperate for Rocco to win this war because they will not be welcomed back.
Drake trusts your opinions—can you not convince him to give these vampires amnesty if they return and swear off Rocco’s deal?
I don’t know. Why would you want that? They should be punished.
Because everyone makes mistakes…but if someone feels the bridges are burned, they will only go on to make more and larger mistakes.
I agree. Yes, I will speak with him. He thinks of me as a daughter, though I wish he didn’t. At any rate, in the end, Drake will listen to all of us and take a path he decides he won’t regret.
Just as Zoie’s friend predicted, Drake put up a hand and said, “Our friendship and the desire to continue our friendship outweighs all else. However, it isn’t what has already guided me to reject Rocco’s offer. My clan does not kill humans.”
The three alpha males shook hands and as the meeting broke up and everyone moved off, Zoie found herself encased in Owen’s arms.
He kissed her nose, her lips, her neck, and then full on the mouth before he drew back his head and said, “Reach into my front pants pocket.”
“Oh-ho, I like that, but…my parents are watching us.”
He grinned like a boy. “Go on, I have something for you there and they know about it.”
“What?” Zoie’s gaze darted from her father to her hybrid.
He laughed and urged, “Go on, Zoie…pocket…go in…now.” He licked her chin and squeezed her hard against him.
She reached in and touched plastic as she repeated, “What?” She pulled it out to see a credit card.
“I’ve added your name to the account and you will soon receive your own card.” His face was a mask of pleasure. “For furniture and whatever else you need. I have a cleaning service coming in today, but you will have to meet with the construction crew and pick out kitchen cabinets, what color paint you want on our walls, and any additions you need.”
“You are taking a great deal for granted,” Zoie accused, eyes narrowed.
“Am I? At the very least, you are helping a friend,” he said suavely.
“Oh, you…I am not fooled,” she whispered, secretly delighted.
“Not meaning to fool you. Zoie, I am what you see, so, go on, take your friend, Carmen, and have some fun. Don’t think about all of this…” His chin moved sideways, indicating the threat of violence that hung over them. “Just go shopping, then I’ll pick you up for dinner, and we’ll have that date we need.”
“I love shopping.” Zoie’s eyes glittered. “Oh…I know just how I want to furnish the house.” She suddenly frowned. “What if you don’t like my choices?”
“Then we’ll throw it out and start over.” He chuckled.
She punched him in the gut and he grunted. “No, we won’t.”
“No, we won’t. If I don’t like it, I will get used to it…better?”
“Much better.” She beamed.
He gave her rump a pat and winked at Carmen, who was with Brock and staring at them. “Go on, have a good day. Your father is waiting on me now and I can see he is becoming impatient.”
“Is he? Why?” Her eyes opened wide.
“Later, baby, later,” he said as he let her go, and used hybrid speed to move off to her waiting parent.
* * * * *
Carmen cut out on her early as Zoie finished up the last of her purchases for Owen’s…their lodge. She remembered that she had never visited with Carrie as she had planned and when Carrie’s road drew closer, she made up her mind and turned onto it, heading for Carrie’s cottage.
Only a pretty collection of birdhouses denoted the long dirt driveway that led to the charming and whimsical white and blue trimmed cottage. As Zoie drew near and parked her car, she smiled at the fact that all the window boxes were filled with color, and marveled at how Carrie kept her flowers alive so long into the fall.
Carrie appeared at the front door, left it open and rushed out, hand extended as Zoie walked up the quaint set of walking stones.
“Zoie! I haven’t seen you in an age,” Carrie cried, and threw her arms around her friend.
Zoie stood back from the small, slim woman and gave her a once over. “Carrie…you are gorgeous.” She reached for and touched the woman’s platinum colored hair. “This hairstyle suits you. I love the cut…just to your neckline, perfect.”
They linked arms and headed indoors, where Carrie put on the teakettle and turned to say, “You aren’t a shifter any longer, are you?”
“You heard?”
“No, no one told me. It is your scent that is different—strangely exotic…and there is a copper light in your dark eyes, Zoie. What happened?”
Zoie sighed, took the mug, and sipped the soothing brew before she answered. “I was on my way here when the Red Demons attacked me. I got clawed…”
Carrie gasped and put her hand over her mouth before whispering, “You died…” she stared suddenly out the window, “but not before you were given a hybrid’s blood. He gave you his blood and it took.”
“You know? How?”
“I saw it. I have been getting flashes of you and didn’t know what it meant.” She held and squeezed Zoie’s hands. “Don’t be displeased…this was always meant to happen. Fate.”
Zoie cocked her head. “Not sure about that, but, Carrie…I am here to talk to you about the breech at the portal. It opens into the Red Demon World, and Rocco has enlisted a powerful warlock to get past Lael’s spell. My pack and the Wolfe pack haven’t a clue about how powerful you are, but I do.”
“You want me to help Lael maintain the wall that prevents the portal from opening,” Carrie said quietly.
“You don’t want to get involved. I know you, but…”
“But we don’t have a choice,” Carrie said.
The front door burst open and a red-headed hunk with dark eyes burst in saying, “Carrie, honey…” and stopped short.
“Ralphie?” Zoie uttered in complete surprise. “Carrie honey?” Zoie lo
oked from her brother to her friend, with total shock. “How could I not have known?”
Carrie folded her hands in her lap and lowered her lashes. Ralphie stomped over to the lovely witch and pulled her up from her seat to stand beside him. “Carrie is mine. She is my mate and I mean to marry her.”
Zoie was on her feet, hugging them both.
Ralphie said, “You see, sweetheart…I told you my family would be thrilled.”
“No, this is Zoie and she is my friend. Her approval doesn’t mean your family will be pleased.”
The next thing Zoie saw was something remarkable. She had never really noticed Ralphie with a woman. She had seen him flirt with the ladies and make deer eyes at one now and then, but this was entirely new for her.
He scooped up his witch like a man with a mission and said, “Zoie, are you coming? Time for our parents to meet my future bride.”
“But…oh, Ralphie…what if they don’t approve?” Carrie objected.
“How could they not?” Both Ralphie and Zoie said in one voice.
With that, he stomped out to his Jeep and situated Carrie on the front seat, all the while Zoie, still fascinated by this new side to her brother, stood watching.
“Zoie—coming?” Ralphie called.
“Hell yeah, I’m coming,” Zoie yelled out. “I wouldn’t miss this for the world. Lead on, brother.” She rushed to her own car, jumped in, and squealed a laugh as she stepped on the gas.
Chapter Twelve
“ARE YOU LISTENING to me?” Zoie demanded across the table.
Owen had her hand as he stared into her eyes. “There is an amber glow in the recesses of your eyes and it talks to me. Sure, I’m listening to those talking eyes of yours.”
“Right, what do they say?” Zoie teased.
“They say, ‘fuck me, fuck me now’.” His voice was low and hoarse.
She squirmed on her seat, and said, “Really? I haven’t even had my dessert and the dessert here is something worth waiting for.”
“So are you, baby, so are you,” he answered, and squeezed her fingers.