Ava

by Michelle L De La Garza

  “I’m sorry,” he says, barely above a whisper. “I should have told you. I should’ve told you everything.”

  A hand wraps around my ankle, nails biting into the tender flesh. “Have you had enough?” The beast drags me across the floor like a discarded sheet.

  “Let go.” I kick and scream, twisting my body from side to side. “Pops.”

  “Stop fighting. You’ll only make this harder than it has to be.” Fingers, no, claws dig into my leg and hip.

  “Don’t touch me.” I grab a metal rod against the wall and swing at the beastly attacker.

  He leaps out of the way. “You’re either not very bright, or you’re not listening, human.”

  Bringing a knee to my chest and kicking outward, I connect with the man’s chest.

  Freed, I crawl to my father. “Pops.” I cup my father’s face between my hands.

  “You shouldn’t have done that.” The voice sounds familiar. “I warned you once, already.” I’ve heard it somewhere before. “You should’ve listened.”

  I focuse on the figure crouching over me. It’s a man.

  He looms over me, holding my gaze. A grin spreads across his face, and he growls, baring elongated teeth.

  “What the fuck are you?”

  The man-creature leaps. A hot, deep-seated pain burns deep inside of my thigh.

  My vision doubles, then grows hazy.

  Red glowing eyes and white fangs are the last two things I see before darkness takes me.

  Chapter 7

  Cole Cotter

  “FUCK.” I SPRING TO MY FEET. The chair under me flips over.

  Grabbing it, I set it upright, and then rush toward the front exit of Annie’s Steak House. The fingers of his right hand tighten on his cell.

  “Ava.” I listen to the sounds coming over the phone. A deep, throaty growl resonates from, followed by Ava’s screams, then the line goes silent.

  Scrolling through the contacts, I tap on Cain’s name.

  After the third ring, he picks up the phone. “Hello.”

  “Meet me at the Johansson’s studio. Now. Bring your father, there’s trouble.” I end the call.

  Stepping out of the restaurant, I race down the sidewalk. At the end of the walkway, I sprint across the street.

  Six short blocks stand between me and Ava.

  Jumping in the black Ford, double cab truck, I speed down the empty street. At the intersection, I run a red light.

  The phone locks into the cradle attached to the dash, and I slip on the earpiece.

  “Call Ethan.” The screen lights up and the sound of a ringing phone echoes in the cab.

  “Cain already texted.” Ethan’s voice sounds distant. “I’m on my way. I’ll meet you there.”

  Rounding the corner, I drive over the curb and into the parking lot, then slam on the breaks.

  Leaping out of the vehicle, I make my way to the front door.

  Shattered glass crunches under the soles of my boots.

  Drawing in a deep breath, the distinct odor of lycans lingers.

  Kweo lycans to be exact.

  But there’s also two distinct scents in the air. One belongs to an unknown Wiccan male and the other a lycan, but both the beast’s scent and clan has been masked.

  Anger rages through my inner wolf, who struggles to bust loose. Right now, I must maintain control. Ben and Ava are all that matter.

  There’ll be plenty of time for payback when I know they’re safe.

  I step into the dark lobby, but nothing seems out of place other than the shards of glass.

  Headlights sweep across the broken windows. Glancing over a shoulder, I see Cain and his father, Keegan Beckham-Black pulling up.

  Advancing, I search the inside of the building, room by room. The open training area, like many of the side rooms, is empty.

  Stepping into the hallway lit by a skylight, I cut Cain and Keegan off.

  “Report.” Keegan’s heart beats at a slow, steady cadence, which my beast picks up on.

  “Just got here.” I try to force my racing pulse to normalize, but it’s no use. “Ava’s call came from Ben’s phone.” My inner beast paces, waiting under the surface of my crumbling resolve for release. “There were intruders. Wiccan and supers—I can smell them.”

  “Eyes down.” Under my alpha’s feet, droplets of fresh blood leave a trail into the locker room.

  I kneel, rubs my fingers over the splattered droplets, and then sniffs the slick fluid.

  “It’s Ben’s.” Rising, I make my way into the locker room.

  Better Ben’s than Ava’s. The thought makes a tinge of guilt talk flight.

  The coppery, metallic smell of blood grows stronger in the storeroom.

  A soft moan resonates in the darkness.

  The eyes of my inner wolf cut through the black shadows.

  In a corner of the room, I zoom in on two motionless bodies.

  A single heartbeat, faint and erratic, thumps in my ears. Rushing across the room, I fall to my knees.

  Ben’s sightless eyes stare off into the distance. And Ava, curled into a tight ball, lays next to him.

  She’s cool to the touch, and the stench of fresh blood invades my nose.

  “The building is empty.” Behind me, footsteps approach—Cain’s.

  Stooping next to Ben, Cain signs, then lower’s the man’s eyelids.

  Keegan’s phone buzzes in his front pocket.

  He extracts the device and unlocks the screen. “Report,” says Keegan into the cell. “Yeah. Front and back, again. Sends some guys down Main Street. I want to know where the scent leads. Oh, and get the fucking lights on.”

  “Who was it?” I roll Ava onto her back, examining her upper body. My beast, near frenzy, fights for release, forcing me to reel in the growing anger.

  “Ethan. He and Troy and Toby are checking the perimeter. Once their sweep is complete, they get the lights.”

  Keegan types a message then sends a text.

  Within a few seconds, his phone lights up, again. “Well, fuck me.”

  “What?” My hand slides down the green dress Ava’s wearing and stops at her hip.

  The lower section of her dress, just above her thigh, is drenched in blood.

  “Agartha MacLauchlan—head of the Formilian coven—is on her way.” Keegan pockets the device.

  “I know who she is.” I suck in a deep breath, then slide the fabric up her body. “So, can she tell us who the Wiccan traveling with the Kweo clan is, or who the masked lycan is?”

  “That’s the plan, for now.” Keegan stoops, shoulder to shoulder with me, he inspects Ava. “Let’s see how bad it is?”

  Taking hold of her knee, I ease Ava’s legs apart, then examines the gaping wound on her upper thigh.

  A low, rumbling, throaty growl rips loose from my throat. The beast within seeks revenge—blood for blood. “I’m gonna kill—”

  “Control yourself.” Keegan rises and places a hand on my shoulder. “Focus. Has she been turned, marked, or maimed?”

  I rein in the wolf, then lean over to smell the gash. “It’s Kweo.” The bite reeks of lycan saliva, but I’ve never picked up this specific scent before. “What the fuck.” A growl rips free of my mouth. “She hasn’t been marked or turned. So, why the hell did he attack?”

  “Stem the flow of blood.” Keegan sniff the surrounding air. “Don’t know, but I think Ben was the target, not Ava.”

  Removing my belt, I slide it under her thigh. Tightening the leather, I cinch it snug above the wound.

  “I can answer that question.” Agartha MacLauchlan walks up and stands beside Keegan. “I take it Ben’s dead?”

  Keegan nods. “Yes.”

  “And the girl, Ava?”

  “Attacked.” Keegan checks his phone. “We’ll have lights soon.”

  “And what of her sister?” Agartha kneels next to Ava.

  “Tessa is with Isiah Mesnikoff’s son, Eli, back at the Alpha Prime with the rest of the Black Foot clan,” replies
Cain. “Why?”

  “Is Mesnikoff a trusted clansman?” Agartha holds Keegan’s gaze. “Will he protect the Watcher’s daughter?”

  “Yes. He will give his life for hers. She is safe,” says Keegan. “But you should know, Ben had only one biological daughter, Ava, which is information neither girl was privy to. As far as they both knew, Ben was their real father.”

  “Then Ava is the last of the Johansson’s Watcher bloodline.” Agartha draws in a deep breath.

  “Yes,” replies Keegan.

  “She must be saved; she cannot be allowed to slip away.” Agartha removes the scarf from her head. “Ava must live.” She presses it against the wound on Ava’s thigh. “This is not good. There will be much unrest.”

  “What the fuck, Keegan?” I shake his head. “When were you going to tell me, Ben was a Watcher?”

  “There was never a need, whelp.” Keegan kneels, once again. “Ben was both neutral and peaceful. He did his job and kept a low profile. He only chronicled the events unfolding between the lupines and Wiccans, nothing more.” Turning his attention to Agartha, he asks, “So, what I’d like to know is who else knew he was a watcher? And what the fuck did they come looking for?”

  “I’ll see what I can uncover, but you must locate his journals.” Agartha rises. “There is nothing I can do for the girl. She is too far gone even for my magic. To live, she’ll have to be turned.” Her eyes bore through me.

  “We can’t do that, not without her consent.” I hold the witch’s gaze.

  “If you do not turn her, she will die.” Agartha turns and makes her way across the floor. “Make a decision, now.”

  The lights flicker, then come back on.

  She pivots around. “If you need me, Keegan.” She bows her head. “You know how to find me.”

  I turn my attention to Keegan and narrow my eyes. “You should’ve told me.” I point at Ava. “Does she know? Does Tessa? Do they know what we are?”

  “No.” Keegan nods. “Of course not, whelp.”

  “Then why was she targeted?” My heart aches.

  Did they come after Ave because of my clan? Was it because Sadie’s a Kindred and now Shoshone? Was that why she was attacked? Or is it my fault? Did I place her in danger by being around her?

  “Ben waited. He never told her about her heritage. But Agartha is right. We can’t allow her to die. She’s innocent to what is happening here. And if she does die, the Council of the Watchers will send someone else.”

  “How long have you known?”

  “That doesn’t matter.” Keegan presses two fingers to Ava’s neck. “Fuck. Her death will start a war with the Higher Septons within the Order.”

  “Wait. They violated the peace accords, not us.”

  “Yeah. So, now, Lupine clans and Wiccan covens will claw through each other, making it next to impossible to keep secret the deceptive pretense of the human façade of the masquerade we all share.”

  “What now?” Ava’s heart slows in my ear. “She’s fading.” I cradle her to my chest.

  “Only one choice remains.” Keegan narrows his golden, glowing eyes. “Turn her.”

  “Fuck, no.” Cole slams a fist against the hardwood floor, and a crack snakes along the grain of the plank. “Don’t ask that of me. Please.”

  “Either you do it, or I will. Either way, it will be done.” Keegan clasps my shoulder. “Decide, now.”

  To turn her this way, without consent, makes me sick to his stomach. “I’ve never—”

  “There’s a first time for everything, whelp.” Keegan undoes the first two buttons on the bodice of her dress, exposing the top of her lacy bra. “What’s it gonna be? You or me, lover boy?”

  The Alpha of the Shoshone turning her could create more friction, the only real choice is for me to do it. Especially since I’ve courted her the last few weeks.

  “If anyone does it, it should be me.” Licking my lips, I bare my fangs. “Forgive me, Ava.” I lower his head, and then whisper, “Please. Absolve me for what I’m about to do.”

  I unleash the wolf inside, who sinks his canines deep into the flesh of the dying human before me. I will my body to release the enzymes that will turn her, then instinct kicks in.

  “Once in her bloodstream”—Keegan looms over me—“the CanFam3b7 protein in your saliva will not only heal her, but it will alter her, change her forever. You’re doing the right thing, whelp.”

  “Then why does it feel like betrayal?” My head bows, unable to hold my alpha’s gaze.

  With the deed done, the wolf inside me howls because the female it seeks, above all others, will now live as a Shoshone clan’s member. But the human side of me, torn by the act, scoops her into my arms.

  “Do not mourn the loss of the human life.” Keegan clears a path, then motions for me to follow. “Supers shall now bear witness to a rebirth, the birth of a lycan—and a new line of Watchers.”

  Chapter 8

  Ava Johansson

  BLOOD. THE BRIGHT CRIMSON COLOR fills my vision.

  I should be afraid, but I’m not. Actually, a sense of warmth and peace shrouds me. It’s a sensation I’m unable to put words to.

  Distorted faces talk all around in a kaleidoscope of colors, but the understanding of the words remain just out of reach.

  In the distance, something approaches.

  A dog. A big, black fucking dog.

  It circles, ears tucked back, and tail held high.

  A searing heat rips through my body, burning under the surface of my flesh.

  Mouth open in a scream, my vocal cords vibrate, but nothing comes out.

  My eyes flutter, then open.

  Flashes of light roll past and images of people flicker in and out of my mind’s eye.

  White linens cover the tables at Annie’s, and silk flowers offer a splash of color. A single, glowing candle burns in the middle.

  The scene swirls, making my head swim. Focusing, on the mass sitting across the table, familiar eyes come into view.

  Cole. I mouth his name, but the word remains silent.

  Stress etches the contoured plains of his strong jawline and high cheekbones.

  I yearn to smooth out the tense lines and wonder what the stubble on his face would feel like under the tips of my fingers.

  A sensation of falling makes my body jerk.

  Eyes open, a flash of a room with a dresser and a single window fills my gaze in a dreamy fashion.

  Wait. I’m at Annie’s Diner, I struggle to hold onto the thought. And he’s at the restaurant with me, so how’s he in a room, too . . . occupying two places at once?

  My temples throb. Jumbled images flow through my thoughts like a montage.

  Glass shatters in the distance, the high-pitched ping echoes in my ears, amplified.

  Wait. No. I’m at the studio. But someone is there with me.

  My chest tightens, making it hard to breathe.

  “Pops.” he’s hurt, bleeding. There’s so much blood.

  Red glowing eyes flicker in front of me.

  It’s a dog. No. A man-like creature.

  Crawling, I claw at the floor, but I’m yanked into the arms of the beast.

  White, gleaming teeth shine in the moonlight. The creature bares long canines, and for a moment, it seems to sneer, and then, lowering its head, it rips into my thigh.

  A scream sticks in the back of my throat, and then slips past my lips. The world around me swirls.

  Floating in darkness, a searing heat consumes my body.

  A familiar voice whispers, and words float in the surrounding space.

  “Sleep, Ava.” The tone of Cole’s words contains a warm timber. “You’re going to be okay. But you must rest now. Close your eyes.”

  I stare into his gaze, then fall into the blue liquid pools.

  At the bottom of what looks like a stone well, he catches me, then presses warm, satiny lips to my forehead.

  “I’m here. You’re safe.”

  A heaviness washes over me, and
darkness etches my vision once more, and I welcome the black of night.

  Chapter 9

  Cole Cotter

  THE WOLF IN ME PACES.

  It’s been two days; forty-eight hours since Ava’s turning. And every minute of each hour has been a living hell.

  Helpless to aid her on this lone journey, I wait and watch her suffer. The lycan virus, now raging through her system—rewriting her DNA, must run its course.

  The most critical time for the infected, is in the first two days. And as the hour of the third day approaches, I’m more anxious than ever.

  Now that I know she’s going to live; I’m faced with a whole new set of worries.

  Will she forgive me for turning her? Or will she grow to hate me; loathe me for what she’s becoming at my hand—my doing.

  A floorboard groans on the other side of the door.

  The watch on my wrist indicates it’s a quarter past the hour, which means, the footsteps belong to either Keegan or Agartha. They have both been a steady presence in the house since the attack.

  The door creaks open, and Keegan enters.

  “Has she said anything?” The alpha approaches the bed.

  “No. Nothing lucid, anyway.” I remove the damp cloth from Ava’s forehead.

  Dipping it in the icy cool water, the warmth retained from her body turns the liquid lukewarm. Wring out the cloth, water droplets splash onto the inn table.

  “How is she?” Keegan approaches, his steps, silent, don’t register to the ear.

  I refold the rag, then lay it back in place, making sure to cover her temples.

  “She’s not burning up like before. Seems like her body temperature is evening out.”

  “Good.” Keegan rubs his jaw, then makes his way back to the door. “Whelp, you know you’ve got it bad for this girl, right?” He turns around. “And you look like shit. Get some rest. Sadie or Ethan can keep an eye on her.”

  “I will.” I look away from his intense stare.

  “That wasn’t a suggestion. It’s an order.” He holds the door wide open and motions for me to leave the room. “Sadie. Look after Ava. But as soon as she stirs, call Ethan.”