by J. K Harper
With wolves under their skin, danger had always seemed periphery. There was very little that could cause permanent damage to a shifter; their animals’ magic ensured swift healing. And Logan’s beast was more protective of their mate than was probably healthy.
But a vampire’s bite was lethal to a shifter. There was no coming back from even a slight graze of their fangs; the venom in their saliva was just too devastatingly permanent.
Logan and Albany had escaped unscathed, dispatching the six vampires without so much as a scrape. But that night had killed their reckless streak. They’d all but buried it with the corpses in Bonaventure.
That night had also served to cement Logan’s resolve. It was time for them to grow into something else.
Something that had overwhelmed his dreams for years.
Something that made his stubborn, fearless wolf whimper and croon.
Something that would last forever.
“So where are we going?” Albany asked, reclining comfortably while Logan drove west, far away from Savannah.
“There’s this thing. Maybe you’ve heard it? It’s called patience.”
“I can be patient.” Putting on an adorable sneer, she scrunched her nose for added effect. “Dickhead.”
“Princess.”
She withdrew her hand.
A low rumble rose from Logan’s chest. The wolf was displeased. It liked her hand there.
“Thought you wanted me to behave?”
Her singsong voice sent a thrill through his middle. “I want you to be patient. I’m one-hundred percent open to everything else.”
She flicked on the radio, a coy smile on her lips. “Guess we’ll both have to be patient.”
Chapter 2
“My stars and garters, what a thoroughly unexpected surprise!” Albany adopted her most southern drawl as she surveyed the oil stained concrete under the gas station’s galling lighting. They hadn’t even made it out of Statesboro.
“Yeah, yeah. Pit-stop only.” He kicked open the driver’s side door and clambered out. “No where’ll be open by the time we head back. Might as well fill up now.”
“You take me to all the best places, baby.” She batted her eyelashes. “Get me some Skittles and I’ll love you forever.”
“You got it, baby.” Logan pushed the door shut. Bypassing the pumps, he headed inside the station to pay.
Only one other vehicle occupied the parking lot. No wonder, really. It was nearing midnight. The black SUV emitted the scent of booze and bad decisions. Most of its passengers were already inside the station.
Through the wide storefront window, Albany watched as three of the four college-aged girls squawked at Logan’s entrance. Save for the designated driver—a brunette dressed as a zombie nurse—the girls promptly lost their not-quite-sober shit over Albany’s six-foot-six beast of a beau.
She couldn’t really blame them, of course. Logan was a beautiful man who often garnered female attention. If these females had been shifters, Albany might have felt the need to give in to her wolf’s desire to make its presence known. But between the shit-faced Wonder Woman, the tipsy sex kitten with more cleavage than claws, and the just-drunk-enough-to-be-awesome Rainbow Brite, Albany found herself tittering.
Rainbow Brite wolf-whistled, which was so damn appropriate that Albany snorted through her laughter.
“The only rainbow you’re tasting tonight is me after those Skittles,” she said, knowing Logan’s ears would pick up her every word. “Just so you know.”
Wonder Woman lifted her left arm and flexed her non-existent muscles, comparing them to the circumference of Logan’s biceps.
The sexy cat hid her face behind her hands. The zombie nurse paid the bored attendant behind a Plexiglas barrier meant to protect him—and the cash register—from potential robberies.
Looking over his shoulder, Logan shot Albany a look when Wonder Woman asked if he’d like to see her whip.
“Wonder Woman has a lasso.” Albany rolled her eyes. “Girl, get your shit together.”
Movement from the SUV pulled Albany’s focus from the storefront window. A girl in a ginger wig and a form-fitting Black Widow costume staggered to her feet. She sprinted around the back of the station, clearly hoping for a ladies room that didn’t require asking Mr. Plexiglas for a key.
Slightly concerned for the girl’s greenish hue, Albany watched her stumble around the corner. But there was something wrong. Something Albany couldn’t quite place.
Unbuckling her seatbelt, Albany slid out of the truck and raised her nose. The overwhelming odor of gasoline had been choking her sense of smell since Logan had switched off the engine.
When two figures emerged from the shadows of the tree line to the right of the station, Albany’s nose penetrated the fog of petroleum. The unmistakable stench of death permeated.
Silent and stealthy, the vampires trailed Black Widow to the back of the building.
Albany was running before she even thought to flag Logan. There wasn’t time. Not when the crash of a door and a confused, stifled scream told her that the vampires had reached her favorite Avenger first.
Skidding into the restroom via the ripped-open door, Albany snarled.
The first vampire—a young woman with gray, sagging skin and a tattered Ramones t-shirt—turned, baring her razor-sharp fangs with a hiss.
Albany’s sudden appearance had granted her something of an advantage. She was close enough to seize the former Ramones fan’s neck and snap it with a quick, forceful jerk.
The female vampire fell to the dirty tile floor, but she would be up again within minutes.
Albany couldn’t worry about that right now. The other vampire hadn’t looked away from its prey.
He stood tall, towering over Black Widow as she receded to the corner of her open stall. The girl was no more than twenty and wore a look that said she was currently praying to her deity of choice, promising to never drink again.
The male vampire hissed, and his shoulders tightened as he prepared to strike.
Thinking fast, Albany bit the back of her left hand, using enough pressure to tear through her skin.
Red dripped down her wrist and iron colored the air, usurping the noxious smellscape found only in a gas station restroom.
Slowly, the vampire turned. His eyes were solid white, with no distinction between iris, pupil, or sclera.
He charged. Bracing her Chucks on the tiles, Albany prepared to grab his head when he was near enough. When he’d chomp at her neck, at her face, at any part of her that he would be able to reach.
A black blur leapt from behind Albany’s right side. The shape moved so fast and with such fury, she startled.
Logan’s enormous timber wolf collided with the vampire, knocking him back into the second stall. Black Widow screamed, somehow more frightened by the presence of the wolf than the creature who’d almost just dove for her jugular.
“Go!” Albany leapt over the female vampire, seized the would-be superheroine from her place in the stall, and practically threw her across the dingy restroom.
The girl found her feet and went running, disappearing out of sight.
Logan’s vicious snarls accompanied the vampire’s grunts and hisses. A terrifying growl preceded the prominent crack of a neck. Albany stumbled out of the stall in time to see the vampire go limp under Logan’s jaws.
But the wolf didn’t release its kill.
With his fangs still buried in the vampire’s throat, Logan shook his head with great force. Albany wasn’t squeamish by nature—she’d spent the start of her evening skinning a buck she’d downed with her father—but she looked away while Logan continued.
Finally, a sickening pop told her the vampire’s head was no longer connected to its body.
The woman—the vampire, Albany reminded herself—on the floor twitched. Her left leg shook, and her shoulders shuddered.
Steeling herself, Albany knelt and re-snapped the vampire’s neck before a full recovery took place. She
didn’t stop there. Forcing back tears, she summoned her own wolf’s superior strength.
There were only three ways to kill a vampire, but Albany couldn’t bring herself to repeat Logan’s course of action. She didn’t have fire on hand, either. That left door number three.
Albany brought down her fist through the woman’s chest and yanked out her blackened, shriveled heart.
Halloween really was the night for horror. Two years in a row, no less. She hoped to hell this didn’t make it a tradition.
For a moment, all was silent, save for the thunder of her pulse in her ears.
A hand latched onto her right shoulder. Logan had shifted back to his human form. Hauling herself to her feet, Albany scanned his body from head to toe. She turned him, assessing his backside.
“You’re not bit.”
“I know.” He seized her left hand.
Her self-inflicted bite mark had already begun to heal. A vampire bite would have festered.
“Fuck.” Logan growled out his own relief. “You scared the shit outta me.”
“I’m fine. We’re fine.” She spoke quickly, reassuring herself as much as him. “Give me your keys.”
“They’re outside.”
With the tattered remains of his clothes, no doubt.
“Stay here.” She flipped on the water over the sink and quickly washed the blood from her right hand. “I’ll deal with the girl and bring the truck around.”
After fetching his keys from the ground, Albany darted to the front of the gas station. She purposefully slowed her steps before she rounded the corner. Black Widow was already frantically trying to explain the occurrence to her friends, but only the zombie nurse seemed alarmed.
“Is she okay?” Albany called, keeping her tone relaxed and conversational. “That guy was a dick, right?! I mean, I know it’s Halloween, but come on.”
“What guy??” demanded Nurse Walking Dead.
“Some dick dressed as a vampire,” Albany said, cool and casual as she set about filling the truck with the gas Logan had already paid for. “Tried to scare us in the ladies’ room. Creep.”
“He wasn’t in a costume!” Black Widow exclaimed.
“Becky, get in the fucking car,” Wonder Woman snapped. “I thought Lindsey was supposed to be the scaredy cat tonight.”
“Sexy cat,” replied the girl with the eyeliner whiskers. “Sleepy cat, actually. Can we go home? I’m tired.”
“But I saw him! I saw you! And there was a wolf!”
“Okay, I’m done. Enough with the Moon Man talk.” The nurse guided Black Widow to the backseat of the SUV. “Sleep it off.”
Inside the car, Black Widow continued to insist on the presence of a wolf. The nurse took on an exasperated expression as she met Albany’s gaze.
“I hate Halloween,” she grumbled, pulling open the driver’s side door.
“Me, too,” Albany lied.
The nurse’s crusted makeup wrinkled as she arched her brows. “Hey, was that hunk your boyfriend??”
Albany adopted a pleasant smile. “Yep.”
“Lucky you.”
I know, Albany thought but didn’t say.
“He has a girlfriend??” Wonder Woman groaned from the passenger seat. “No fair. I bet he fucks like a hurricane.”
Logan did, actually. Not that Wonder Woman would ever find out. Just the same, Albany didn’t bother suppressing her wolf’s snarl. She turned her back to the SUV and finished filling the tank with gas.
After a slam of the driver’s side door and the crank of its engine, the SUV rolled away from the pumps. As it passed, Black Widow pressed a hand to the backseat window and scowled at Albany.
And then they were gone. Thank fuck.
Climbing in behind the steering wheel, Albany cast a fleeting glance toward the clerk behind the Plexiglas. He stared at his phone, unfazed by the goings on outside.
She drove to the back of the building then reversed so that the truck bed faced the open restroom door. Logan was ready. He’d heaved the two bodies into the back before she could even offer to assist.
While he cleaned the blood from his hands in the sink, Albany rooted around beneath the Chevy’s bench seat until she found the duffel bag she knew he stowed there. She tossed it to him, and he pulled out the change of clothes he kept on hand for sudden shifts that left his clothing in pieces.
Dressed in a pair of dark jeans and a faded gray t-shirt, Logan reached into one of the storage boxes in the truck bed. He pulled out a blue tarp, which he used to cover the bodies.
By the time they were back on the road, Albany’s heart still raced in her chest.
“You okay?”
“Great.” She slumped back against the seat. “You?”
“Fantastic!”
“Oh yeah? Why’s that??”
Logan reached down and rifled through the pile of his ruined clothes that he’d shoved to the floorboard. He pulled a red packet from the remains of his jeans. “I got your Skittles.”
She laughed, but the sound came out weak. “Shit. What are we gonna do with them?”
He tossed the Skittles on the seat between them. “Bury ‘em. I don’t want to smell them burning.”
“Fair point. Shouldn’t we head back?”
“No, I still have your surprise.”
“Babe, it’s fine. Really.”
“We’ll stop on the way. I’ve got a shovel in the back.”
They drove in silence for several miles. Between the late hour and the comedown from the adrenaline rush, Albany fought the urge to close her eyes. She turned her head, assessing his profile. The grim set of his lips told her his thoughts were still back at the station.
“Always my hero,” she whispered, mostly to break the tension that had risen in the cab.
“Always.” Logan spared a glance to her, and she was unsurprised by the viridescent glow of the wolf in his eyes. “You’re the real hero. How does it feel?”
“How does what feel?”
“Knowing you saved an Avenger.”
“I dunno. How does it feel knowing Wonder Woman wanted to bang you like a drum?”
“I’ve got my very own Wonder Woman, thank you.” His lips twitched with a smirk. “Wonder Wolf.”
“I just need a lasso.”
“I wouldn’t be opposed to you in boots. Only boots.”
“Mental reminder created.”
Logan turned onto a dark, seemingly disused road flanked by thick woods. He drove for a mile, then rolled his Chevy to a stop on the shoulder.
“This should work. You hang out here.”
“Boring. I’ll keep you company.”
They ventured past the tree line, wandering deep enough to find a clearing for the bodies. Logan pulled off his shirt, tossed it to Albany, and started digging.
By the time he’d carved out a decent-sized grave, the moon had traveled further across the sky. Though they’d exchanged companionable chatter while Logan worked, they fell silent once they dropped the bodies into the earth. They did not speak again until the top layer of dirt was packed tight.
Logan wiped the sweat from his brow and pulled on his shirt. “You ready?”
“In a minute.” She could feel his stare on the back of her neck.
“They weren’t human anymore.” He employed his gentlest tone. “You know that.”
“But they were human once. She liked the Ramones. Do you think they knew each other?”
“I don’t know.”
“It’s strange, isn’t it?”
“That they were together?”
“Yes.”
“It’s as strange as those six last year.”
“All the stories we grew up with say vampires hunt alone. So why didn’t they? And why were the ones in Bonaventure operating like a pack?”
“I don’t know,” he said, hesitating. “We think Antebellum has more to answer for than we realize.”
Albany faced him, noting his strained expression. “We?”
“Me
. Monroe. Sam.”
“You’ve been privy to the inner circle for a while, then?”
“C’mon, don’t be mad.”
“I tell you everything, Lo.”
“I wanted to be sure. I didn’t want to tell you and then have Monroe change his mind.”
“Oh, he wouldn’t have,” she chided. “He respects you, Logan. The whole pack does. Didn’t you see their faces earlier? They’re as proud of you as I am. Well, maybe not as proud. I challenge anyone to love you more than I do.”
Huffing out a laugh, Logan rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. “Aww, shucks, princess. And you wonder why I think you deserve the absolute best.”
“We just saved a drunk superhero from two vampires and gave said vampires a respectful burial. I have the best. And we’re awesome.” She raised her right hand, showing her palm. Once more that night, he high-fived her. The sharp clap of their hands reverberated through the quiet woods. “Let’s go. I hope my surprise is a bed. No, a shower. And then a bed.”
He draped an arm around her shoulders, holding her close as they trekked back to the truck. “I think I can make that happen.”
Chapter 3
“Oh, good.” Albany scooted forward to peer out the truck’s front window. “A creepy plantation. Was tonight not Halloweeny enough for you?”
Killing the headlights, Logan eyed the once-stately home that sat at the end of a long dirt driveway. Moonlight kissed the treetops of the distant woodland.
At some point in time, the house had belonged to one of the most successful onion farmers Vidalia, Georgia had ever seen. Now, the two-story mansion home with a columnated portico stood in shambles. Its white paint had grayed and now peeled from decades upon decades of disrepair. Shutters hung off the windows, battered by years of ill weather and neglect. Moss and weeds crept up the wide porch and the house’s façade.
“Logan.” She dropped her voice to a low, ominous timbre. “This is where we get murdered.”
“It was my mom’s.”
She startled. “What?”
“About a month ago, I had a dream. The same dream for three nights in a row. It was just roads at first. I didn’t know what it meant. And then I figured out it was directions. To here.”