by Sarah Makela
Shaking my head, I pushed the thought away. For all I knew, she might be out telling her people about me, ensuring the werewolves or even the Cazador would pursue me. I needed to be on alert. No reason to chance an attack. I’d lived this long; it would be a pity to die by a hunter’s bullet...or a werewolf’s claws.
Carmela’s face danced through my thoughts even as I swept up the broken glass. She was a werewolf; there was no reason I should be this taken with her. Swirls of blood marred the pavement, and I’d crouched to examine them when a breeze blew across my cheek.
Fellow High Council member Elliot Quinn stared down at me, his full lips quirked in a mischievous smile. “Looks like you’re busy dealing with a mess, mate.” Humor warmed his aristocratic features as he knelt, and his blue eyes showed too much curiosity.
“There was an incident. My window was broken, and someone must have stepped in the glass,” I said, keeping my tone flat. “What are you doing here?” I stood, holding the full dustpan in one hand.
“Just reminding you about the upcoming meeting. Lord Prescott showed much displeasure over you missing the last one.” His crisp British accent thickened, underscoring his worry. “I’d recommend you make this one a priority.” Elliot crossed his arms.
“Guess I need to check my calendar more often.” High Council meetings were the last thing I was interested in. I’d hoped my absence would signal that, but Lord Prescott was too stubborn to let go of his members.
I walked up the alley toward the back door, Elliot perfectly matching my stride. I knew Elliot was only looking out for me by passing on the message. We’d known each other a long time—in fact, he was the closest thing to a friend I had.
“I know you’ve begun to dislike politics, but you don’t have a choice. This is who you are: you’re a High Council member. You’ve known Prescott a long time, so you have a better idea than most how he can be when someone displeases him. You don’t want to put yourself in that position.” Elliot grabbed the door and held it open.
In the darkened kitchen, I emptied the bloody glass and dirt into the trash, then tossed the dustpan in the corner. Elliot was right; Prescott didn’t take kindly to insubordination. He’d been patient so far, but it wouldn’t last forever. I leaned against the counter and sighed. “Fine. I’ll be there.” Turning to Elliot, I added, “Don’t expect me to like it.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.” He grinned, showing sharp, pointed fangs.
A breeze spread through the kitchen, and Elliot was gone. I only saw him leave because, as an older vampire, I could track his movements. I wished he’d be more careful about using his powers in front of others, though. Just because he could outrun the Cazador didn’t mean he was invincible.
This wasn’t like times gone by. Humans knew we existed now. We weren’t just boogeymen to make children behave. Carelessness was lethal.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Carmela
Dr. Matthews stifled a yawn. He’d obviously been asleep when Father called. His reddish-brown hair stuck out in all directions, and dark circles lined his green eyes as he gently unwrapped the sling. “Well, I see what happened: the silver bullet pierced the bone in your shoulder and came close to the artery. It’s a miracle it missed, but the silver is keeping you from healing properly. You’ll need to shift, but I wouldn’t advise that until the full moon in a few days. If you try too soon, you may further injure yourself.” He traced his gloved fingers around the bullet wound.
Agony ripped through me, and I sucked in a breath. I glanced between him and Mother, who stood nearby, staring at the wound critically. Her nursing instincts kicked in as Dr. Matthews doled out instructions for my care. I hated seeing her waste such a natural talent on a man like my father.
“Whoever took care of you has excellent precision. I couldn’t find a single bullet fragment in your shoulder. You must have a guardian angel.” Smiling, the doctor pulled out his supplies to wrap my arm in a new sling.
“Could I use the other one?” I didn’t want to raise suspicion, but having something on me Derek had touched felt right.
Dr. Matthews frowned, deepening the lines around his mouth.
“I was starting to get used to it.” I forced a bright smile. Or as bright as I could get manage with my arm hurting this much. It wasn’t like I would ever see Derek again, but at least I could keep his memory.
“Yes, of course.” Dr. Matthews nodded and placed the splint back into his bag.
Mother helped me into a sitting position and held me as Dr. Matthews wrapped my shoulder, then slid my arm back into the sling.
He angled his body away, and I wondered what he was doing. Then he turned to me with a needle, which he tapped lightly before reaching for my arm.
I scooted away. Pain was one thing, but I hated needles. I crawled to the other side of the bed, but before I could flee, Mother pressed a hand against my chest to hold me down.
Dr. Matthews gripped my arm, hard enough to hurt, but that didn’t matter. I writhed and bucked, trying to get away.
“Please, don’t.” My voice came out weak and helpless. “Please. I’m okay.”
“Carmela, don’t be silly,” he said.
My mind flashed to the hazing I’d been through in the Militia. The other wolves had held me and jabbed sharp needles into my skin, thinking they could break me of my fear. It only made things worse. My time in the Militia had been hell on Earth.
“Mother, please. Let me go. I’m fine, seriously.” I stared up at her. A sharp jab stung my arm, and I bit my lip hard as tears streamed over my cheeks.
“It’ll be okay, Carmela. We know you don’t like needles. We’ve gone over this before—it’s for your own good. You need your rest, and we’re just helping you sleep. Just calm down.” Mother’s face blurred. “I’ll be here when you wake up.”
I blinked, trying to fight the drugs. “Don’t...like needles.” Lightheadedness kept me in the bed, even though I wanted to run.
Dr. Matthews’s face came into view. “This is for your own good, doll. If you don’t rest, your body won’t be able to focus on healing that shoulder. Your father wants you to be in good shape for your mate. You don’t want to give the wrong impression.” He smiled and brushed a strand of hair from my forehead. “I’ll check on you tomorrow.”
This wasn’t about my pain; it was about Father’s plans being executed the way he saw fit. He didn’t want anything to mess up the first encounter I had with my mate, not even me. I was in my birthing prime. He wanted me to have the sons he’d wanted for himself, sons my mother had denied him, instead of the daughter he barely held back spite for. He only thought about himself. Who cared how Mother felt? He was the center of his universe.
I groaned, surrendering to the drugs.
CHAPTER NINE
Derek
Night descended, allowing me to once more travel about the city. I pushed open the hardware store’s door, and a bell chimed over my head. The people inside were crowded along aisles filled with everything from hammers to screwdrivers to ladders. Several of the customers stopped and stared, as if expecting an attack.
Charles, the older owner, stood behind an old cash register at the checkout counter and waved, a big smile on his wrinkled face. “Come on in, Derek. It’s been a while. What can I get you?”
Tension left the store in a rush, and everyone returned to browsing the aisles again.
“Someone broke one of my windows last night. Need to get it fixed before the community finds out.” I slid Charles a piece of scratch paper with the measurements on it.
“Sorry to hear about that. You sure do need that window fixed. They’re real sticklers about things like that. Don’t worry, though; I’ll get you taken care of like usual.” Charles looked at the paper and flipped through a catalogue, stopping at a window that would work for the spare room.
“Thanks for this.”
“You’re always welcome. We’ll have this to you tomorrow afternoon. How does three o’clock sound?” Charles scr
ibbled on a receipt, then tucked the pen in his shirt pocket.
I wouldn’t be awake at three o’clock. It didn’t matter how old I was, I wasn’t immune to sunlight. “I have an appointment already scheduled at that time. I won’t be home until later. How about tomorrow evening at six or seven? That’ll give me a project for the weekend.” I slid a few bills across the counter to Charles, hoping he wouldn’t question the timing, then tucked away my copy of the receipt.
The idea I might be something other than human didn’t even seem to occur to Charles. He just nodded. “Yeah, you’re right. Just keep watch on your place so no one breaks in between now and then.” He frowned, concern tightening his eyes. “You’re a good man. I wouldn’t want anything bad to happen to you.”
“Thanks.” The only people who were likely to break into my second-story window were those who could fly. Or someone brave enough to use a ladder, but that would cause a commotion. His words still sunk in, though.
I didn’t need yet another reason to feel paranoid, but it was too late. Would someone dare break into my home while I wasn’t around? Or worse...when I was asleep and helpless?
A foreboding feeling urged me back home. I walked quickly at first, but my nagging intuition screamed at me, ‘run.’ As I stepped into the alley, I saw a hole where the cardboard and plastic were supposed to be.
My fears were proving to be justified.
With a curse, I jogged inside using supernatural speed and stealth. Though the blackness would hamper any human, I could see every detail of my home like it was daytime. Yet something lurked, just out of sight. I could sense an unspoken threat; someone wanted me dead.
“Come out. Stop wasting my time,” I yelled into the darkness. What use would cowardice be?
A shadow moved in the kitchen, and another darted across the balcony overlooking the living room.
My fangs lengthened into sharp points with a quiet snap. I stepped out of the den, but kept my back to the wall. These beings were professionals. I wouldn’t allow them an opportunity to surprise me from behind.
Someone whirled toward me from the kitchen. I slammed my fist into the man’s chest, causing a loud crunch as he stumbled back and hit the floor.
The black-clad figure from the loft flung itself over the railing and soared down to the ground, landing with an arrogant flair.
This didn’t make sense. The man in the kitchen wasn’t a vampire, but there was something about this one. The rapid tap of footsteps drew my attention toward the kitchen. Maybe I’d been wrong about him.
Before I could do anything, a solid weight barreled into me, slamming me into the wall. Fingers dug into my arms, and magic thrummed through the air. The magic held a dark, powerful taint almost like that of the necromancers of old. If I didn’t stop him, I’d die a true death.
I shoved him away and the man flew off me, smacking into the opposite wall. A loud pop resounded from where the man in the kitchen had been. I leapt out of the way and wound up on my hands and knees in the living room.
Another wave of magic slammed into me and I dropped to the floor, pain eating at me. I wouldn’t let this happen. I’d never give in to these men. I was a vampire, a superior being.
Pop.
I jerked to the side, knowing they weren’t trying to kill me. What they were trying to do was much worse than death—they wanted to capture me. I reached out my hand toward them, drawing on the telekinetic magic of my bloodline. I clenched my fist and jerked it toward me. The deathly pain immediately stopped, but my head swam from the after-effects of the necromancer’s magic.
The man from the kitchen lay beside me, his stunned hazel eyes staring at the ceiling. The tranquilizer pistol shook in his hands. I dragged him toward me by the neck. A thick leather collar circled his throat, so they must have suspected what I was. The necromancer’s presence confirmed that.
I sank my fangs into his wrist, keeping my crushing grip on his neck. His hot coppery blood slid down my throat, revitalizing each cell in my body. With my energy this low after the fight, the need to feed overwhelmed my desire for answers. When the man stopped fighting, his heartbeat a small, fragile bird fluttering to a stop in his heart, I closed the wound with my tongue.
The necromancer must have fled, leaving his less powerful friend to die.
I swiped a hand over my bloody lips, staring at the darkly clad intruder. Why were these people trying to capture me, and how had they known I was a vampire? Maybe I should’ve fought my needs and questioned him while he was conscious. I might still have a chance; he wasn’t dead yet.
Slumping into a chair, I sighed. My life had been simpler before meeting that werewolf. People hadn’t been after me for mysterious reasons, and I hadn’t had to deal with the tendrils of desire that stirred within me when I thought of her.
The smile on her lips, and the way she giggled. Damn. I wanted to see her again, but we weren’t meant to be. We could not be.
CHAPTER TEN
Carmela
Blinking my eyes open, I stared up at the ceiling. The soft, plush bed relaxed me immediately. Dreams of Derek toyed with my heart. The way he’d smirked and threatened to keep me by his side forever. How did I feel about that?
Werewolves mate for life, and I’d never wanted an arranged marriage like my parents. The abuse my mother suffered, and the misery that radiated from her, made my urge to break the mold clear. But Derek wasn’t a werewolf. Would that make a relationship with him different? I had no idea.
Shifting in bed, I tried to turn on my side, but I couldn’t move. Ropes dug into my limbs; someone had tied me to the bed. Only my injured arm escaped the bindings. No one else was in the room. I’d wanted to cling to the unrealistic dreams of Derek, but I never expected to wake up to this.
Agony still pulsed through my arm, but it wasn’t as overwhelming as what I’d felt last night. Looking at my bedroom window, I saw I’d slept the day away.
Wasn’t Dr. Matthews supposed to check on me?
A grimace curled my lips, and I tugged at the ropes again. Part of me wanted to scream, but I knew Father had tied these, because they didn’t budge. If anything, they were too tight. My hand and feet were asleep; I needed to move my limbs better than this. If they wanted to give me more medicine, then fine, but this was crazy.
“Mother?” I whispered, hoping she was somewhere nearby. I waited a moment, but heard nothing. A thud sounded from the other side of the wall near my head, followed by the sounds of crying and my parents’ headboard slamming against the wall. I’d heard those noises before, for years.
“What did I tell you?” Father yelled, and the banging continued.
The idea of sex repulsed me. How could anyone find the act enjoyable? I remembered the romance novels I used to sneak from my mother’s hidden bookshelf. The characters within those pages enjoyed lovemaking. It didn’t have the violence I heard from behind my parents’ bedroom door and had cried myself to sleep to so many nights. But those pages were lies.
The sobs quieted, and I squeezed my eyes closed, wishing I could be away from there. Father pretended to be a respectable man, but it was all for show. Hopefully, I could deal with the mate Father intended for me. Perhaps he wouldn’t be as horrible. Or he could be worse.
My bedroom door slammed open, and my heart pounded in my chest. I closed my eyes, focusing on keeping my breathing slow and even. Father’s loud footsteps approached the bed, and I shoved down my fear. Maybe if he thought I was asleep, he’d leave.
If not, I wouldn’t be able to fight off his attack; not with my limbs firmly bound. Who was I kidding? When was I ever able to fight off his attacks? He scared me too much for me to even try most times.
His hot hand descended on my stomach, burning my skin through the blanket. He slid his hand over my belly button and toward my hips.
“William!” Mother shrieked. “Stop it!”
I opened my eyes, unable to keep them closed any longer.
Father darted a glance toward Mother and growled.
“Get out of here, Katarina! Now!” He pulled away from me and stomped toward my mother.
“She’s your daughter. Don’t put your hands on your daughter like that. You already treat her poorly–”
A wrenching slap sent my mother careening out of the room. Father strode out, then slammed the door behind him. Screams sounded beyond the door, and I was helpless to do anything. The echoes of pummeling punches reverberated through my ears.
Tears streamed my cheeks. In a way, I wished I could’ve taken the brunt of Father’s wrath so she wouldn’t have to fall prey to it yet again.
The door opened again, and my eyes widened.
Chandra walked in and stared at me with hollow eyes. Bruises marred her complexion, and her lower lip was split open. Sighing, she shut the door after her. Her features twisted in pain as she limped across the floor of my bedroom. My cousin raised her arm back, then slapped me across the cheek.
“This is your fault.” Her voice matched her eyes. Empty. “I don’t know why Uncle William even tolerates you, you selfish bitch.” Pain contorted her face. “Don’t screw up the meeting with your mate. I doubt you deserve him, whoever he is. Aunt Katarina shouldn’t have stopped him; you’re the one he should target, not us. But maybe that’s for the best. No one would want you if you were ruined too.” She spun on her heel and left the room.
I couldn’t hold back my astonishment. How could she say that? She’s angry and not thinking straight. Maybe I did deserve the harsh words. No… I came home as soon as I could from Derek’s, regardless of the consequences, but my effort meant nothing. I was never good enough for them.
I bit my lip hard, holding back a scream. Tears cascaded down my cheeks. If I hadn’t been tied down, I might’ve left and never returned. The only person who cared about me was my mother. But how could she continue to love me when I caused her so much pain, even if it was through Father?
Sobs shook my chest. The pain in my shoulder felt like a mosquito bite compared to what filled my heart. I had outsmarted a vampire and jumped from his window while injured to come back to these people, and yet Chandra and my father would be just as happy if I had died. At least if that were the case, maybe my mother wouldn’t be abused like this. Maybe Father wouldn’t feel like he needed to beat her for truly loving me.