Three’s a Clan (Hart Clan Hybrids)

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Three’s a Clan (Hart Clan Hybrids) Page 2

by Roxy Mews


  We needed another donor. Our supply was getting low. I checked my mental inventory and the numbers didn’t match up with the sign-out log. Someone was taking more than their share. I wasn’t sure who. They were taking the very blood I would never touch again. Witch blood. We kept a virtual blood bank in our Family home. There was every blood type known to man, and a few special vintages as well.

  The Matheo had access to a large amount of witch blood, and even though I know I shouldn’t feel pleasure at disobeying my superior, the witch supply wasn’t as plentiful as it had been because of me. I’d rescued over a dozen women from the fate of being walking blood bags for my father. Girl power won over vampire instinct for me when I’d killed their captors.

  I sobered as I remembered there was still at least one more I had to save. I quieted my body functions. I stopped my heart, didn’t bother breathing, and paused every molecule inside myself. Nothing. Yet another day I had to go about my business and hope the guards the Matheo had over his slaves would slip up later.

  Going back to the blood, I shook a few bags as I checked rotation and freshness dates. Refrigeration seems to dampen the blood’s natural rhythm, but even through a plastic bag, it had a hell of a kick. Vampires like myself can never imbibe enough alcohol to become drunk, but give a vamp enough blood from a donor who is high as a kite and you might have a valid comparison.

  I would have gone and checked my computer for more detailed information, but I didn’t really need the manmade technology anymore. Once again, my miasma had me covered.

  When my dear brother Jake decided to embrace his hybrid heritage and defect to begin his own Pack, the joy of this brain goo became mine. On one hand, I was glad it saved our Family from having to remove the miasma from his head with something sharp and fatal. On the other hand, his defecting left the miasma free to find a new host. Me.

  My head was way too crowded now. I pulled the one piece of technology I did need from my pocket. The cell phone clicked on with a swipe across the screen.

  Despite popular fantasy, there is no telepathy between vampires. We could sense our kind and had a stronger pull to those we’d made or been born of, but that’s it. Conveying specific information about red blood cell inventory was not an option without my phone.

  Missing blood is starting to be a problem.

  I got an almost immediate response. Vampires had enhanced speed. It made us wicked fast texters.

  I am sure it was a simple sign out error on the part of someone in the Family. Just procure another donor.

  I thought of suggesting the fingerprint scanner and tally machine for withdrawals again, but my father had seemed truly against it when I’d mentioned it before. My miasma helpfully played back the scene in vivid color. This stuff was helpful at times, but ungodly redundant at others. Whenever new information of any kind presented itself, I felt a jolt to the head. Thankfully, I was working with a very old knowledge. I didn’t get jolted very often anymore.

  The photographic memories playing through my brain showed me a myriad of past reasons for blood thievery. A lone vampire passing through town was not possible anymore with our security system. The Family members stock piling to defect from the group…possible. But if any of them had wanted to, they could have left with Jake.

  I missed my brother. With him gone, everyone seemed to be going back to viewing other supernatural beings as not as valuable, not as worthy. We were returning to the exclusivity we’d had before the Matheo had taken his mate. It was not all that long ago. One hundred and fifty years, the miasma reminded me.

  And in a flash of memory, I was back on the plantation.

  We had taken slaves at the time. It was an easy source of blood, and we took care of them and fed them better than any of the other farmers. Some knew of us, some we compelled. All were loyal.

  Amelia, our cook and my friend, found me that day. She was screaming for help across the fields. I was by her side by the time the wolf emerged from the forest. I knew in an instant what she was. She was filthy, she was wild, and the blood that covered her paws and snout let us know she was a killer. I pushed Amelia behind me.

  “Run through the fields, go to the house. Take all you can with you. I will stay and fight.”

  “Miss Michelle, can you kill it?” Amelia knew of me, but like most of the staff, she did not ask questions. When masters provided as well as we did, the staff ignored the unpleasant.

  “I can. But it is possible it may escape me briefly. I don’t want anyone hurt. Now…go.” I put some compulsion behind the final word and Amelia ran as fast as her arthritic joints allowed.

  The wolf began to circle me. The spikes of dried blood in her fur formed a wicked looking armor. The wild in her eyes stabbed me. I had fought werewolves before. We were not unknown to their kind and some came looking for a fight from wherever they might find a formidable opponent. This was not a were looking to expend some energy. This was an animal that had once been human.

  Father’s presence from behind me was welcome. “Where did she come from?”

  “The woods. Amelia saw her first. Had I not been close, I have no doubt we would have lost her. That blood on the snout is fresh.”

  Father sniffed the air. “She has killed. Human from the smell. Hmm. I wonder.” The last bit was mumbled. He wasn’t aware of me anymore. He was in his head again. The Matheo had been looking for something recently.

  He never shared where he went on his walks, but he came back motivated. There was always some new place to go, some new career to conquer. That same look played along his features now. What was he up to?

  His power pulsed as he yelled to the beast. “Change!”

  My body shuddered as much as the wolf’s. But as the fur thinned, and her bones popped, I was amazed. Father had forced the change. The snarls and yips turned to screams. As her bones reformed, a dirty naked woman lay before us, panting. She was very thin aside from her distended belly. I couldn’t be sure, but I would put money on the fact that she had killed out of madness, a common side effect of extreme hunger. Any werewolf who was to that point of starvation could lose control around the meaty humans in the village.

  The summer had been dry and rough, and much of the wild life had either perished or been hunted out of the local reserves. Why hadn’t she just turned to her human form and tried to blend in for some food? Even with the filth and emaciation, her cheeks flushed and the creamy peach of her skin would have put her in the arms of a farmer’s son in a heartbeat.

  I watched the shewolf cower as Father approached her. He knelt before her as her back hit the fence post she had leapt over moments ago.

  He seemed to be evaluating her as he said, “You hold endless possibilities inside you.”

  I had no idea what he meant, but I knew what he was doing when the tingle of his voice rolled out toward our visitor.

  “You will follow us inside and allow the women to bathe you. You will not harm anyone on this plantation, and you will use manners among us. Stand and go.”

  The wolf was fighting him. Her movements were jerky, not serene, but she went. She was in his chambers by sundown.

  Like I said, this miasma thing was a pain in the ass sometimes. Shaking off the memories and visions from past Protectors was a regular part of my existence now. Jake had tried to explain the stuff in his head to me when it was obvious I’d been the lucky recipient, but there hadn’t been time. And despite the resulting war, I was grateful Jake found his mate. She’d taken over leadership when it was too much for him. She saved him when it was obvious the miasma was not meant to be held by an Alpha or Matheo. I barely held back the cinematic replay of what the newest member of their Clan had done to a group of wolves in the woods. No matter how much it was relevant, times like that were meant to be feared and not relived.

  My office hours at the school were about to start. The blood investigation would wait. I thought of th
e pesky date just a few hours away. I was about to put the phrase “red-blooded frat boy” to the test.

  I still had a forty-five minute window until I met with my new donor. Something nagged my brain, but luckily, I didn’t need much of it to get through office hours. Once again, only the male students sought my assistance. They fumbled over their words and asked basic questions I hoped they already had answers to.

  It was one thing to try and get close to a woman, but I did not comprehend these men who thought their looks would be more than enough fodder to impress the opposite sex. Did females not expect any conversation these days? I took a swig from the O negative that filled my little black bottle. It wasn’t unpleasant. The blood was chilled in a small refrigeration unit alongside my desk. I preferred warm and from the source, but a vampire did what she had to do to blend in these days.

  My mind wandered. My father had released three members of our Family from their search duties. The Matheo had been actively searching for Jake and Amber since they’d left ten months ago. The only difference was he now had a very real reason to be pissed. The Hart Clan had taken down his supply of harvested witch blood. I never asked about Jake’s plans, because at this point, any indication of my involvement with my brother would be another cause for my death.

  This was a don’t ask, don’t tell situation, and keeping my yap shut kept me close to where the final witch had to be without having to kill everyone in my house.

  I needed to get out of my office. I compelled three students to forget that they wanted to talk with me, and started walking. The miasma zapped me with how it had felt to be grabbed by claws in the woods. The sensation of frenzied kisses turned my feet toward where I shouldn’t go. It was where Amber Hart had almost died. I was at the Paulson apartments.

  The local werewolf Pack was smaller than it used to be. Being sucked into an interspecies war by your Alpha would do that. I heard voices from the weight room beside the pool. I passed a few pups playing in the water and walked through the door.

  Shirtless men were everywhere. I wasn’t into werewolves as a general rule, because I wasn’t supposed to be, and I guess part of that upbringing stuck. Glistening defined muscles surrounded me. I passed a handful of men, all who stopped what they were doing as I made my way to the far end of the room.

  The Alpha Paulson and his Beta lifted fifty pound dumbbells like they were tens. Muscles bunched under a salty mist of perspiration. Tan skin covered their bodies, and it was obvious that neither wore shirts much during the summer. They were two very different men, but they both turned toward me as one. The miasma tried to play back that scene again, but somehow I was able to make it stop. Barely.

  I had the attention of every powerful male in the place. Tension thicker than a dehydrated man’s blood bubbled up around me. Most of the tension revolved around the fact that my Family was on the other side of the interspecies feud.

  The Alpha and Beta of the Pack each grabbed an arm and looked down at me. Then a very specific part of my body woke up, and I tried to squash it, because this was something I shouldn’t feel. A warmth spread through my belly. I stopped my heart from beating to keep all the blood I had consumed from moving south.

  Even without the movement of red blood cells, my skin still tingled. I needed to get laid if I was getting this worked up around werewolves. I shook free from their grip and took a drink from my bottle.

  “Shelly…what are you doing here?” The Alpha addressed me, as his Beta worked to clear the room.

  “We need to discuss a movement on the hybrid front.”

  Richard Paulson finished what his Beta had started and cleared the stragglers with a low growl. When the last of the Pack cleared out, the Beta—Doc—closed the door and flipped the lock. He leaned against the frame, and held up a finger as he cocked his head. He listened for a moment before turning back toward us. “The masses won’t stay back long. I suggest you get what you need to talk about out.”

  I turned to Richard. His stare was intense. His eyes searched mine. I felt his heavy push of power, but I had plenty of my own. It was natural for an Alpha male like him to exude power and strength. But he was using a heavy hand with the mojo for someone who’d been saved by a little vampire and a witch just months ago.

  His face showed me nothing as he asked, “Do you have word from them?”

  “You told me not to tell you even if I did.” That had been the agreement. Along with lots of other agreements I was not thrilled about.

  He growled, but the pressure around me eased because he knew I was right. Like always.

  “Then why are you here?”

  “Blood.”

  Doc snorted from behind me. “We aren’t interested in being donors.”

  I rolled my eyes. No matter the species. Men always thought it was about them. “I have a date with a donor tonight. At least, he will be one before the end of the night. What I came to share was we have a leak in our blood supply, and I don’t mean faulty storage bags. We are missing more and more pints each day. Unaccounted for. The Matheo tells me to just worry about getting more, not about the accounting errors.”

  It didn’t take long for the men to get where I was going.

  Doc spoke first. “It’s the harvest blood, isn’t it?”

  “Some is from the very witches we rescued in Chicago. But not all of it.” I shouldn’t want to share this with the very Pack my Matheo wanted destroyed, but they had helped slaughter a significant number of wolves with me, so I figured they should know. “Some of it is hers. Kari’s. And it was fresh.”

  The wolves looked at each other. Richard walked up to me and placed his hands on my shoulders. I felt the pulse of his blood moving under his skin. The tingle intensified. He was an overwhelming man. I hadn’t been overwhelmed in a while.

  “He has her somewhere on your property.” That wasn’t a question.

  “I believe so. And I worry that he’s been playing hybrid-maker.”

  “Do you think he’s recruiting more wolves to be turned?” Doc moved from the door to close in on our conversation. The presence of one strong sweaty man in front of me and another behind me was intoxicating.

  My miasma, that had been blissfully quiet, snuck up on me with the scene in the woods again. Rick had strong hands, and deliciously sharp nails. I worked my hardest to push it back. My nipples tingled and tightened before I could suppress the thoughts, and I felt my panties dampen. Both men were close enough that I knew they could smell me.

  Dammit. I stepped out from between them. Focus, Shelly.

  “I don’t know what he’s doing. But I do know that I have been careful to not recruit donors of the witchy variety. Yet a few of the bags that go missing mysteriously show back up. Instead of the regular old blood, we are being replenished with magical red Kari juice. Along with a few others.”

  Doc put his hands on his hips. “What are you suggesting we do about it? You are living with the Harvest leader and have no idea where she is.”

  “I don’t know what to do, Doc.” Not like he did either. “I just wanted to make you aware of the situation. I thought we were working together.” I had another twenty minutes until my date, but I started for the door anyway.

  Perhaps dimple defect boy would get a little more than a nip on the neck tonight. He wasn’t as flawless as the men in front of me, but he had a penis. I needed one. If I was reacting like this, I needed one badly.

  “Shelly?”

  I stopped my feet and turned as I reached for the door handle. “Yes?”

  “Meet us back here at two AM. We have some things to discuss. I want to do a little digging, but we need a meeting that isn’t so publicly known.” The Alpha of the Paulson Pack put his hands behind his neck. The man had abs for days. “I have lost a lot of Pack members. I don’t need the ones I have left distrusting me for meeting with a perceived enemy.”

  Right. Even being r
esponsible for rescuing some of members of this Pack wasn’t enough to get them to trust me. I took another drink from my bottle. I shouldn’t be upset. They had been abandoned by their leaders. The one Alakin Pack leader I’d let out of that clearing alive had run to my father. It would be a stretch for them to be sure I wasn’t involved somehow.

  My eyes lowered. I wasn’t one to back down, but wolves have this thing where the beast inside of them responds better when you lower your gaze.

  It also let me see the cell phone sticking out of Rick’s pocket. I grabbed for it and forced myself not to notice the bulge beside it. My fingers danced over his phone. I found his number on the device and programed mine in his contacts.

  He looked over the screen. “Barbie?”

  I smiled. “A little nickname from my sister-in-law.”

  Chapter Two

  Rick

  It took effort to keep my feet in place as Shelly left the building. I wanted to follow her. No, that wasn’t it. I wanted to hunt her. I wanted her in the woods and on her back. I took a step.

  Sheer determination stopped me. Blocking off my own desires from the rest of my Pack was something I had perfected over the years. Nothing was as important as taking care of those who needed me. You would think with my daughter out on her own and no longer causing trouble in the Pack, my stress level would have gone down. It might have had she not uncovered a blood harvesting ring while she was running from a homicidal vampire.

  My daughter wasn’t boring. Neither was Shelly.

  Shelly Meyers.

  One roll in the woods was supposed to be a distraction. It wasn’t supposed to send my wolf into a frenzy. I’d smelled my Beta’s scent on her for fuck’s sake, and my wolf hadn’t cared. Didn’t that mean the encounter was purely superficial?

  Doc wiped down the equipment before we both headed for the door. The man cleaned to calm down. Our fucking apartment building had been powerwashed yesterday. I needed to get this situation under control or the man would start washing behind my ears for me next.

 

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