“You deserved that, Lycan,” Aeslin says, jaw moving back and forth, fangs fully extended. “You cannot go unpunished for the harm of our female.”
This guy's a broken record but I nod, understanding his perspective exactly, my jaw throbbing from his strike. “Fair enough, but she behaved like it would be her against my transitioning change. I need to get to Talyn.”
Adrienne sighs. “You can't just barge into her apartment, break everything and command her to begin her transition.”
I feel my frown. Why not? After all—it is my job. My only job.
Adrienne's dark chuckle weaves through the space, and one of the vampire's joins in. “What's so funny?”
“Your face says it all. That was exactly your lame-ass plan.” One of her tiger's eye gauges from her earlobe winks back at me in the low light as Adrienne cocks her head.
I shrug. “If it works?”
A breath of disgust shoots out of Adrienne and her vivid eyes slim down on me. “No—pal. Clearly, it didn't work.” She pokes her finger in my chest and the two vamps tense.
“I won't hurt the female,” I say, flicking my gaze to them. But she begs a good male to do wrong.
“No—you won't,” the bald Turner—Matthews—says with an ominous tone of voice.
“That's not how it works for every female.” She shakes her head as though in wonder over my typical method. “It wasn't that way for me.”
Another chuckle, covered by a fist. Adrienne slants a dirty look at the bald vampire and his laughter gives way to a grin.
“Talyn Phisher should be grateful for the relief a transition could mean for her,” I explain in a bland way.
“I would not classify her as especially grateful,” Aeslin comments dryly.
“Why, vampire?”
“Look around.”
I do. The Masker is gone. And with him—Talyn.
Fuck. Heat moves through me like an inferno. Here's what reasoning got me.
Let's talk and work shit out. Nope. Let's chat while another takes my change.
I whirl to leave, and Adrienne grabs my forearm.
I itch to toss her, female or not, so I can scent Talyn and get her before her friend does.
“Don't,” Adrienne cautions in a low voice.
“Why the fuck not?” I ask with true bite.
The vamps pull in beside her like boats coming to harbor.
I rein my frustrated anger back. Getting my ass kicked won't help Talyn.
“Because she's scared. She's not some twenty-two year old unsure woman who thinks you're cool.”
I shrug. “She's female, like every other female.”
Adrienne throws her hair back and cocks a hip. “Are all you Lycans He-Men? You think you're omniscient—like God?” she asks in a coy voice.
My brows come together. I don't have time for philosophy.
I strain forward, hands in fists as my talons dig into my palms. I ignore the posturing of the vampires. “No, I don't think I'm God. I think I'm a Lycan warrior—I change. It's what I do—it's what I've been doing for the last half century before Talyn Phisher came along. I don't need a hybrid vampire female to tell me how to transition.”
“Lycan—have a care with your words,” Aeslin says in a low voice of warning.
I move so fast his hands are sprouted and beside his jaw for a fight. But all I do is remark, “And when are words as good as getting the female who needs their true from—whose very essence begs the male assigned her to change her so the degradation is no more?”
Aeslin's hands drop, and he shoots out a rough exhale.
“I feel for you,” Adrienne says. “I just think you've let the job run in front of the goal.”
I shake my head. “The goal is transitioning Talyn Phisher. It's the only goal.”
My form trembles. I allow myself to melt to human and Adrienne doesn't blink an eyelash.
“You're not going to change her if you force it.”
I look at Matthews, hand on my hips. “And where is she now—with a male who played her for over twenty years?—while in secret—he was a Masker.”
Adrienne pierces me with her gaze. “It's exactly my point. Who does Talyn have to trust now? The one person she felt was in her corner is now maybe the enemy in her eyes.”
“Do you know what a Masker is, Enforcer Adrienne?”
“A shifter who can hide his stench,” she replies with a sarcastic lilt in her voice, giving me a hard gaze.
Cute. I nod. “That's partly it. They're an ancient species, crossing all supernatural lines. They can be vampire, Lycan, shapeshifter—even fae. It's like nature was making sure they had an ace in the hole—or she couldn't make up her mind.”
“And nature is a she?” Adrienne asks, her lips curling.
The vampires and I say yes simultaneously.
She heaves a sigh of disgust.
I look around the mess of glass and wood all over the house.
Talyn is gone. While I was fighting my nature and trying to talk it out with other supernaturals, the Masker took her.
“Talyn isn't like the females you've changed in the past,” Adrienne repeats.
“Listen—you might be the law, but I'm not taking orders or advice from a vampire. I'm scenting her out and transitioning her. End of story.”
“Have you considered she won't want what you're offering?” Aeslin asks quietly.
“I've never had to force a female once,” I say, offended by his implication.
“Would you?” Matthews asks from the shadows.
“Never,” is my immediate reply.
Though I think Charles would be less scrupulous.
Adrienne sees something on my expression that I can't hide fast enough. “What?”
“I wouldn't,” I clarify. My eyes meet hers. “But there are some who want a female badly enough to make her Lycan whether she wants to transition or not.”
“Who?” Adrienne asks.
I admit to what I can. There are darker truths that have not been earned by the vampires. “Rogues.” I don't concede there are other transgressors besides just that group aloud. As though admitting to their existence is enough to conjure them like a wish.
“Ah,” Aeslin says. “It is not dissimilar from vampires. We have a civilian population, of course, but there is always a group of bad apples...”
Adrienne barks out a laugh. “Bad apples? Nah—I think it's more like bad seeds. Or fangs.” She looks straight at me. “Or claws.” Adrienne smirks. “Anyway, find Talyn, trail her and the Masker—whatever he is,” she waves away the identification of Arden, “but understand the patience of a supernatural that would be her friend for twenty plus years, all that time waiting until she's,” Adrienne rolls her lip into her mouth, “what is the term? Ready?”
“Degrading,” I supply but I'm only half-listening, my mind is already on hunting down Talyn.
“Yes. He's been patient. Now you have to ask yourself why. Or better yet—how would he even know that she was a hybrid? That makes no sense. If you're a Changer, a Lycan who hunts the hybrid females for transitioning, why would he be any better equipped at figuring out her hybrid status? How is he any more sensitive to Talyn's hybrid status?”
The only answer I can come up with is the most disturbing of all. “I know she's a different change than ones I've transitioned in the past.”
Matthews grunts and I waste a glance at him.
“She is—vampire. She scents different, more. I don't know why. I thought it was because of her age.” I can't keep the frustration out of my voice.
“What about her age?” Adrienne asks in a sharp voice.
“She's mature,” I say simply. “It's what makes this such a complicated transition. There's no precedence for a female this old.”
Adrienne paces away, the malesʼ gaze following her every movement. When she turns, her face tells me she's touched on something. “What if she's special?”
I nod. Of course she is. I've always understood that Talyn is a unique change. It'
s part of my incentive to get her transitioned quickly. Pure instinct. And if there's one thing Lycans are, it's relying on their instincts.
“No,” she throws a palm wave my way, vigorously shaking her head. “No—I mean something rare. A woman that is unique might get picked up on the radar of other Lycans or supes when she otherwise wouldn't. God only knows, they're coming out of the woodwork now. Think, Merck,” she says in a sharp command.
“I am, vampire,” I lob back just as hard. I'm not an idiot—regardless of what she might assume.
When the revelation comes to me, it bottoms out my stomach. I forget I'm among my natural enemy, that my jaw's hurting from being hit twice, that Talyn's temporarily out of my sight.
She's of Lanarre blood.
It's such a rare exception the possibility didn't surface immediately in my consciousness. Or I had only superficially considered the potential.
Adrienne watches my internal debate with keen interest. “You've thought of something.”
Nothing I want to share. It's too critical.
“Tell me,” she says.
I look at her, weighing her worth.
“I won't tell a soul even under threat of torture.”
A smile tugs at my lips. That I believe.
Matthews growls at the torture part.
“I don't need your help. I can find Talyn myself, and I sure as hell don't need a female to give me instructions on a change.”
A smile curls her lips. “I am honor-bound to confidentiality.”
I look at the vampires.
“We would never compromise Narah,” the one named Aeslin speaks for them both.
Unbelievable. My eyebrows rise. “You compromise her every day that she works this thankless job.”
Matthews grunts. “True—do you think we like it?”
“Then why do you allow your female in harm's way?”
Matthews smiles as though he's a simpleton. “Love, you stupid dog.”
Aeslin dips his chin in agreement.
“I am not a dog, and I'm far from stupid.” I hold Matthews dark gaze for a few seconds then shift my attention to Adrienne. “You seem genuine.”
“I am,” she says, planting her feet wide, and crossing her arms over a bearing that can only be classified as militaristic.
“The only way that another Lycan—even a Masker—could be aware of her Lycan blood before she began to degrade would be if she were of royal blood.”
Adrienne whistles. “I know the history of the different supernaturals pretty well now.” Her lips quirk with a private thought, and she gives an eye roll. “Hell, in my field you never know what you'll run into.” Her smile widens into a grin. “So Talyn might be a princess?”
I shake my head and exhale in frustration. “It doesn't work that way.”
“What way does it work?” she asks lightly.
“Her pheromones alert every Lycan within a thousand miles that she's ready to breed. They'll come from everywhere. A regular,” I look at Aeslin and adopt his word, “civilian werewolf will defer to a Changer. They understand our role—its importance to the race.”
Adrienne's eyes glitter. “But a rogue...”
Heat infuses me. My talons itch to return to battle-ready mode. I need to get to Talyn. “A rogue will take.” Among others. My fingers close into a fist.
“Let me help you find her—convince her.”
I think about it. Finally I go against all principles. For Talyn. It's certainly not for me. Confession is not good for the soul.
“Our Alpha gave me two weeks to transition Talyn. She's mature and we have other changes. He doesn't want a Changer to waste time on a dead end. He thinks my scenting might be off.”
Adrienne's chin jerks back. “Why—from what I understand, you Lycan boys are the bomb on smells.”
I give a small smile. “Yes, well we are. All of us.”
The statement stands between us as I watch her think about it.
“So your boss knows you're probably on target, but he doesn't want to waste the manpower on a woman too old to what—breed?”
“Maybe,” I look her in the eye and decide to spill the truth, “probably.”
She puts her hands on her hips, looking angry, though I don't know her well enough to tell for sure. “That's bullshit.”
Yup, angry.
“So you're running solo, ignoring protocol to transition a change you're barely approved for? That your boss doesn't know might be a Lanarre?”
The vampires behind her regard me with interest.
Finally, I reply, “I guess that's about it.”
“Fantastic,” Narah says with a wink, “I'm in.”
Aeslin and Matthew groan.
3
Talyn
I jerk my elbow out of Arden's grasp.
He stops, arms dropping to his sides.
I go rigid, glaring up at him. “I guess I should thank you. But stop—just stop hauling me.”
“Talyn,” Arden reaches for me again and I back away, crossing my arms, and jamming my breasts up as I do.
He looks at my chest.
I frown.
Where the hell is my eunuch friend?
Nowhere, that's where.
His fingertips graze my forearm.
“Don't touch me,” I hiss.
He retreats a step, pegging his strong hands on his hips. “Tal—I can explain all this.”
“Oh yeah? Well I'm all ears. You've been dragging me for an hour to somewhere and I can't...” I cover my face with my hands. My chest is tight, my breaths—short.
My house is destroyed. Pooky is by herself.
I'm with Arden, but he's not Arden. And I know where the hell that tooth came from! Some werewolf guy that thinks “transitioning” me sounds like a great plan.
And that I should like the plan.
Well I don't. And I don't like that Arden seems to somehow be a part of all this.
I have patients. A job where I need to help others. I can't just run off to wherever until all this fun blows over.
Blows over.
My face gets hot thinking about it all.
“You're killing me, Tal—throwing off the Lycan pheromones. It's almost more than I can bear.”
I can't believe I've been reduced to gender and scent. The insults are piling up like a snowdrift.
My chin lifts and I stare him in the eye. I notice he's ditched the glasses. Probably a prop all along. “That's just too bad, Arden.”
He flinches when I say his name. My eyes narrow.
“Is that really your name?”
He nods.
I look around at where we're at and move as though I'll walk off. “Wait!” he calls out loudly.
I spin and his hand is on me. “Stay within five feet.”
“What? Why?” My eyes tighten as I yank my arm out of his grip again.
“I can't mask your scent if you're too far away from me.”
I fold my arms, the steamy summer night swirling around us like fragrant water.
“At this point, I'm wondering how that's better for me. Let me see,” I begin, tapping my foot, “you pretended to be my friend since high school—”
“Talyn, I never pretended.”
He sounds sincere, but I don't give a crap, going on, “And all this time you've been part of this supe community all us lowly humans were blithely unaware of.”
He's silent so I continue, “Now I'm supposed to let my office slide and the people who depend on me—oh my god—Pooky—and just trot after you like a well-trained dog? No. I will not. And for the record, this is equal opportunity—I'm not ʻtransitioningʼ with Merck either.”
Arden raises an eyebrow, and I hate that whatever he's become is damn hot. It weakens my resolve.
Because apparently my pussy is conflicted.
“Talyn, you're in heat.”
That's why. Heat. Like a dog! Impossible. I'm barren. “Even if that ridiculousness was remotely true, I can't have kids, remember?”
Arden dips his chin, scrubbing his hair and making the thick, honey-colored strands stand on end. “That's not exactly true.”
My heart begins to pound along with the beginnings of a wonderful headache. I massage my temples, my eyes going to half-mast. “Listen—I don't need any more lies. I can't tolerate it and I'm not going to.”
“I don't expect that.”
The silence is bloated.
“I'm a shifter. And I can scent-mask. But my primary identifier is Masker.”
Shifter.
I scrutinize his expression and know he's circling some additional and awful revelation. “What are you going to tell me I'm not going to like. Again.”
His exhale is rough. “All Maskers scent-mask. But not all Maskers shift into the same creature.”
I take another step backward and he steps closer. “Five feet, Tal.”
“Yeah, I heard you,” I answer softly, halting. “What does that mean?” My mind spins with the possibilities as my eyes search his.
“I'm not just a Lycan—I can just shift form. Any form. This is my natural human form.”
Oh boy. “What do you mean ʻhuman formʼ?”
Arden sighs softly, his head hanging.
The wind rustles, lifting my hair around my face. I'm exhausted, hungry and I have my best friend about to confess all his sins—and a sexed out werewolf scenting me out—and maybe a sexed up Arden.
Things aren't looking good.
I shift my weight. “Just tell me.”
“I'm a Mutable shifter.”
I blink at him. “A what? I thought you were a Masker?”
“I am. A Masker is what I can do. A Mutable is what I am. The two are not mutually exclusive.”
“Got you,” I say slowly.
Arden is insane, and I'm out in the middle of nowhere with him. Not a smart move, Talyn.
His eyes rove my expression. “I'm not crazy, Talyn.”
“Uh-huh.” I whip around and run.
I've never run so fast in my life.
I don't look behind me, only forward.
Something blurs past me. It looks like a streak of smoke and dots from the corner of my eye.
Up ahead I put on a burst of speed, relieved I might have left my crazy ex-friend in the dust.
I realize that an hour of walking didn't get us further than Falls Park. It's pretty empty at the witching hour.
Lycan Alpha Claim (#2) Page 2