Paranormal After Dark: 20 Paranormal Tales of Demons, Shifters, Werewolves, Vampires, Fae, Witches, Magics, Ghosts and More

by Rebecca Hamilton

  Fred had shown his true colors. And from the crashes and snarls emerging from our living room, it sounded like the oathbreaker had tempted one of my loyal wolves over to the dark side along with him.

  * * *

  BLAZE WAS THE youngest of our yahoos and the most innocent. Unlike his compatriots, he hadn't spent any time wandering through outpack territories, having been given to me instead by another pack leader two gatherings ago. His previous alpha didn't want him—too close to the wrong side of the pack leader's lineage—but he also didn't want to slaughter the teenager as Chief Wilder would have done.

  So I ended up with another young hothead, and one whose views on life were excessively black and white. A character trait that our oathbreaker must have taken full advantage of, because a faint hint of the former's foul aroma now clung to Blaze's fur as the youngster did his level best to tear out Wade's throat.

  I knew no one else could smell the difference in fragrance, but our entire pack could see the results. The yahoos were always full of life and ready to tussle, but usually they did so outside. And usually there wasn't blood on their fangs ten minutes into the mock battle.

  Good thing Wade was smarter and stronger than his compatriot. And also good that the former was doing his level best not to hurt his friend. Otherwise, this fight would have been over long before I arrived...and not in a good way either.

  The whole pack had gathered to watch the show, and I could tell that more than one of them had tried to separate the combatants while they waited on my arrival. Proof in point—Oscar sported a long scratch down one arm and Quetzalli's sour face suggested that her bark of command had been ignored.

  Fred, on the other hand, looked upon the battle with a barely visible smirk on his jovial face. Oh yeah, the newcomer was thrilled to have stirred up dissension within our pack. One more indication proving that the oathbreaker needed to go, and sooner rather than later.

  But not right now. Because Blaze had finally found an opening in his opponent's defenses and looked ready to rip off Wade's ear. The appendage in question wouldn't grow back in human form once it was gone, and I didn't particularly want to draw attention to our differences from surrounding two-leggers by hanging around with a one-eared youngster. So I leveled the combatants with a single word.

  "Down."

  My use of alpha compulsion was so rare that I could see it shocking a bit of sense back into Blaze's addled skull. Not only did he release his friend's ear and fall onto his belly as ordered, but the teenager also licked the former's chin apologetically in the process. Unfortunately, though, the hint of oily black smoke that shielded his true aroma remained present.

  "Shift, then out," I continued coldly. This time I didn't push any compulsion into the words, but the yahoos still obeyed and followed me out the door with alacrity. They were good kids, if a little hot-headed.

  Luckily, the day was growing colder by the minute and their bare skin would chill sense into their brains shortly. In fact, I almost expected to see snow in the air as I stepped away from the agitated aromas of our main pack and into our front yard.

  I had a sudden vivid recollection of the frigid white powder I'd fallen into in lupine form on my first day on this earth. That wasn't the kind of alpha I wanted to be—one who would toss away an unwanted pack member to simplify his own life. But what else could I do with Fred when he'd been present less than twenty-four hours and had already turned my strongest supporters into a back-biting mess of fur and fangs?

  Still, the memory of my blood father's coldness reminded me not to be too hard on the youngsters before me. So I put a little bit of warmth back into my words as I asked, "Do you want to explain what happened?"

  Blaze and Wade exchanged wary glances. I supposed I had just asked each of them to rat out his buddy. I sighed in exasperation. We were getting nowhere fast.

  "Let me guess," I said, answering my own question. "Fred suggested to Blaze that maybe things around here weren't so fair. That the big, bad alpha has been lording it over his poor weak underlings. Am I right so far?"

  Wade—the older and wiser yahoo—smiled faintly. "Close. Blaze wanted to know why we don't get paid for all the coding work we do in the computer lab."

  The younger yahoo hung his head, kicking one bare foot against the sharp gravel. The smoky shadow atop his usual aroma had faded in intensity but was still present. Yeah, the oathbreaker's insinuations had stuck.

  "Meanwhile," I continued, "Wade stood up for his savior, saying that lord Wolfie would never withhold anything from the pack, that he always has your best interests at heart."

  Now Blaze laughed, the hint of merriment washing his scent entirely clean. "You do sound like a prig sometimes, Wade," he muttered under his breath. Of course, with werewolf ears, we all caught his accusation. So I wasn't surprised when Wade playfully punched his friend's shoulder with a force that would have knocked a mere human onto his butt.

  "You two can go play it out in a minute," I concluded, stilling what would soon turn into another fight, but a more friendly one this time around. "Our pack needs an accountant anyhow, so I'll sit Blaze down with some spreadsheets later on and you can decide whether you want to pay each of us a salary. Yes, this is your punishment for upsetting Tia's kitchen." I'd noticed that the fight hadn't been limited to the living room, and the food splatters on the walls were bound to bother Chase's mother. Might as well kill two birds with one stone.

  Then, turning to the other combatant, I tousled his hair even though the yahoo was nearly as tall as I was. "And, Wade—don't be such a prig."

  Then I headed back into the living room before the pack could disperse. Because, I'd figured out what I needed to do about the bigger problems in my life while I'd been slapping down the pair of over-excited puppies. And the entire pack had to be present for this failsafe measure to work.

  Chapter 6

  MY GAZE ROAMED across the shifters and human in the room. Tia with her huge heart, Lantana with the untarnished potential only the innocence of childhood could bring, Chase with his never-ending willingness to prop up a bloodling alpha who couldn't always be relied upon to remember that shifters were two-leggers too.

  Our newest members, Galena and Quetzalli, made me smile every time I thought of the way our only female teenager had dragged them through the front door triumphantly after I thought our clan had lost the girl forever. Meanwhile, my uncle Oscar was the kind of man I strove to be, Berndt and his wife Acacia had the sort of bond I yearned for, and the three male yahoos kept us all in stitches.

  My pack was small but perfect. Some of our members had fled my father's clan with me when I was younger and stupider than Blaze. Others had joined us through sheer desperation or through a rose-tinted hope that life really could be different in an unconventional pack.

  And all were in danger from not just one oathbreaker...but from two.

  Yes, Fred's foul aroma was sifting its way into the room, but my own influence would be ten times more damaging. Because the oathbreaker hadn't even required verbal inducement to sway my pack mates over to his point of view. No, his mere presence did the trick of soiling our carefully nurtured pack bond.

  Fred's black smoke was visible now, to my eyes at least. The tendrils of oily contamination drifted off the oathbreaker's person and swirled around the legs and eyes of every shifter in the room. Only Acacia and Fen seemed immune, the former's non-lupine humanity and the latter's weak wolf protecting both from the oathbreaker's insidious effects.

  But far worse than Fred's contamination of the pack was the influence I knew I would have when I came back from meeting Chief Wilder with the same oathbreaking aroma. I didn't particularly think I deserved my current job, but I'd come around to realize that my role as these shifters' alpha was sacred to all of us. As such, my outlook on life would inevitably affect their own.

  I couldn't let that influence do more harm than good.

  So I patted my pocket to ensure I had a phone handy, I put one firm hand on the oathbrea
ker's shoulder, then I did what needed to be done. "Until I return, Chase is me," I told all and sundry.

  Because the pack needed an alpha. And if I wound up smelling like Fred, I didn't plan to return home.

  I paused for a moment to ensure the compulsion took effect, then guided the stranger out the door. "Fred, I'll walk you to your car."

  * * *

  "TO MY CAR? I don't understand?"

  The stranger had arrived on foot much like any other supplicant, but I should have realized as soon as I saw his potbelly and tailored suit that Fred hadn't run here in lupine form. No, he would have wheels stashed somewhere nearby. Good thing too since I needed a ride.

  So I didn't answer him in words, only glared until the oathbreaker wilted beneath my regard and turned to the west. Yep, there was a little-used country road just a mile in that direction that would be the perfect spot to stash a vehicle you didn't want anyone to know about.

  The oathbreaker properly cowed, I pulled out my cell and got to work. Chief Wilder was an old-school alpha who didn't allow modern technology on his pack land, but I'd seen the bulge of a phone as well as a gun on his bodyguard's person and knew someone would be able to get in touch with the old coot. So I rang up three different alphas who owed me favors until I hit pay dirt, and then I called his high holiness himself.

  "Clan Wilder," the shifter answered. It wasn't the Chief, but I could tell by the other shifter's voice that the speaker was the same mountain who had tried to intimidate me a few hours previously. Given the timing, Wilder and his entourage couldn't have made it all the way back to Haven yet, but I had a feeling they were much closer than even that math would suggest. No, Crazy Wilder would expect me to mull over his demand for a couple of hours and then contact him this afternoon, so he was likely cruising along back roads waiting for me to cave.

  Not that he'd admit to lingering on my account. Instead, Wilder would likely stall for another half hour before bothering to pull up to our meeting space.

  Assuming the bastard even accepted my call the first time around.

  "Put me through to your boss," I requested, ready to be brushed off but figuring I'd start with at least the semblance of politeness. Okay, so my words sounded more like a command than a request, but alphas don't say "please."

  And, sure enough, the mountain lied in my ear. "He's unavailable at the moment." The response was as infuriating as it was expected. Did Wilder really think we had time to play games when his wolf was nearly ready to break free of his human skin willy nilly? Did he relish making me sweat so much that he would put his pack in further danger just to delay the inevitable?

  "Now." And that was a command.

  I could hear the rustle of the phone changing hands, then Crazy Wilder was on the other end of the line. His mere presence made me stand up straighter, and Fred glanced back over his shoulder reflexively at the change in my odor. I could tell the oathbreaker half expected me to shift to wolf form and eat him up.

  Wouldn't it be nice if my life was so simple?

  "Have you made up your mind?" Chief Wilder asked without preamble.

  "Yes," I replied simply. "We have to talk."

  "So talk."

  "In person," I clarified. Then, giving him a way to save face: "My magic ball says you had business in the big city and you're still no more than twenty minutes away. So meet me on top of Beech Mountain in half an hour and we'll talk."

  Then I hung up and powered off the device. No reason to give Crazy Wilder any additional opportunity to sway me before we met in person.

  Chapter 7

  "I DON’T SEE why I have to come along," Fred panted as we left his fancy new car and started up the hillside toward the designated meeting spot. "I get it. You're afraid I'll cause dissension in your pack with my plain speaking. So I'll leave."

  I spared the oathbreaker a pointed glance over my shoulder then sped up to walk a little faster. Yes, I was getting a sort of childish pleasure out of watching the shifter struggle along in my wake. And he could also use a workout for the sake of his heart.

  But mostly I need some amusement before putting my life on the line.

  Plus, I was too worried about the upcoming events to be nice. "Can it," I growled instead. "You talk a good talk, but we both know you're a con man out to see what you can skim out of the pack's coffers before you move on to the next unlucky bastards."

  "So what are you gonna do to me? Tear me apart?" The oathbreaker's accent suddenly seemed much less polished, hints of his roots showing through as he became more agitated. "I'd heard you weren't that type of alpha."

  "I'm not." The truth was, there was a purpose to dragging Fred along, and it wasn't just seeing the troublemaker sweat. The imminent demise of my own good odor made me feel a reluctant brotherhood with the con man, and I hoped watching the upcoming events unfold might change his world view at least a little.

  Okay, it was a long shot. But I also didn't have time to thoroughly push Fred out of our territory before Wilder arrived. So the oathbreaker would just have to suck it up and tag along. And I'd have to get used to his griping in the meantime.

  Fred continued complaining, but I tuned out the other shifter and focused on the scents and smells around me. There was no reason for Wilder to ambush us when he already had me over a barrel. But my opponent wasn't thinking entirely clearly at this point, so I wasn't surprised to smell both his bodyguard and driver in lupine form as I rounded a bend in the trail.

  "Stay close," I ordered Fred curtly, hoping the oathbreaker wouldn't get himself killed through sheer stupidity. He grumbled, but sped up a little to dog my heels, clearly trusting me to protect him in a dicey situation despite the pain and suffering he'd caused within my pack.

  So when two massive wolves sprang out of the trees, it was my body in their path, not Fred's. And when I rolled out another alpha compulsion—"Sit!"—three shifters ended up on the ground at my feet, two of them four-legged and Fred still unabashedly human.

  Wilder, however, had yet to make an appearance.

  "Was that really necessary?" I asked, walking away from the frozen lackeys and toward the source of my opponent's odor. As I did so, I realized that his scent was menacing but unsullied, as if the other pack leader had never broken an oath in his entire life.

  The aroma gave me hope that my ploy would succeed. But I couldn't count on it.

  "Come out, come out, wherever you are."

  The alpha werewolf emerged from between a pair of trees that I felt certain had been uninhabited previously. Wilder's human feet were shod in hard-soled shoes, but they made no sound as they slid through the fallen leaves. His face appeared relaxed and cordial, but I glimpsed a hint of wolf fangs beneath the skin. And his eyes sparkled with madness.

  Then he opened his human lips and emitted a lupine command. "Walk with me," he ordered. And without my permission, my legs moved to follow.

  * * *

  "YOUR LAP DOGS will get a cramp," I said when the alpha compulsion eased enough that I was able to find my tongue. It felt strange to obey another pack leader's commands against my will, almost as if I was a pimple-faced kid again, bowing down at my father's feet.

  But my father was dead. And I had a feeling that if I struggled, I could easily break free of Wilder's compulsion. No need to push that point prematurely, though.

  "Cocky, aren't you?" Wilder said, and I had a feeling he was replying to my thoughts, not to my words. "But far too tender-hearted to be a real alpha. Unfortunately, I couldn't find better."

  He growled quietly to himself the same way a normal human might sigh. And despite my plan to let my opponent bask in his superiority, I pushed with my lupine senses and felt the bonds that held me splintering away. If the other shifter was crazy, then I needed to be ready to respond immediately rather than after a few seconds' delay.

  I leapt to the side as he whirled to face me, and I half expected my opponent to turn wolf and attack. Instead, Wilder laughed, a hyena-like cackle that did nothing to dampen my a
nxiety.

  "As I thought," he murmured. Then, louder: "Now see if you can command me to do your bidding."

  Yeah, right. And next I'll go swimming with a crocodile, I thought, shaking my head in negation. Six years ago, I would have been thrilled at the excuse to pit my dominance against that of the strongest alpha in our region. But now I felt no need to initiate a battle I wasn't sure I could win.

  "You're scared," he taunted.

  "Sure," I responded glibly. What did I care what Wilder thought of me? All I wanted was to find a way out from under my debt without breaking my oath or harming my pack mates. The mournful cast to Chase's eyes when I'd taken my leave had haunted every step of this afternoon's journey so far, and I was bound and determined to see that angst transform into joy at my return. If it meant turning the other cheek while another alpha poked at my pride, then so be it.

  "Hmm," Wilder mused. Then he waved his hand back in the direction from which we'd come. "Our audience is frozen out of sight and sound, so I'll have no reason to tear you apart for making me lose face. And I'm curious to see whether a young buck like you can best this old fart. Surely you're curious as well."

  His explanation made sense, but the wheedling tone sounded off coming from such an overbearing alpha. Still, I was getting the impression we weren't going to deal with my problem until I obeyed Wilder's request. So, without giving him any time to prepare, I snapped out a command.

  "Stand on your head."

  Wilder, apparently, was far less agile than some of my young pack mates. Because the result of my compulsion looked a lot more like a donkey hop than a handstand. Still, the other alpha strove to obey, even though his cheeks turned red at the effort of fighting my command and his eyes blazed hot with the indignity of the situation.