Savage Loss (Corona Pride Book 2)

by Liza Street

No, they didn’t know, because Brigitte hadn’t told anyone. She’d sat here, frozen, dithering like some kind of frail princess, afraid to come out of her tower.

  Brigitte was many things, but she was no ditherer. Nanny Mae wouldn’t have stood for it.

  Even now, Nanny Mae looked reproachful in her framed photograph.

  Brigitte edged open her window. “Hey!” she shouted.

  The kid didn’t look up. Brigitte saw a lock of long blond hair escaping the edge of the hoodie. Probably a girl, then; Brigitte didn’t know any boys in town who wore their hair that long.

  “Hey,” Brigitte said, louder.

  Still the girl didn’t hear her. Brigitte bet she was listening to music through earphones.

  This would not do. Grabbing her flashlight, Brigitte rushed outside. It was eerily quiet, but as she rounded the end of her apartment building and reached the sidewalk, she could hear a tinny beat of music coming from the skateboarding girl.

  “Hey!” Brigitte called for the third time. “It’s dangerous out here, didn’t you see the warnings from the police? You should get inside.”

  The girl looked up, and Brigitte gasped. Pale face, red lips, black eyes. The girl tugged the earbuds from her hood and smiled at Brigitte. She wasn’t twelve or thirteen. She wasn’t even eighteen, which was how old she looked—no, she was far more ancient than that.

  “I’m so glad you decided to come out and play,” she said. “We’ve been waiting for you.”

  Brigitte raised her flashlight and started to scream, but a hand covered her mouth from behind, and she was locked into powerful arms.

  Twenty-Two

  The stranger who stood before the Corona Pride was taller than anyone else in the room. Rafe guessed he was six-four or six-five, at least. He had blond hair that curled over his ears. It reminded Rafe of one of those cupids painted on the Sistine Chapel, despite the guy’s severe and narrow face…and the fangs Rafe knew were hidden behind those thin, bloodless lips. Still, Rafe didn’t feel afraid. The vampire slouched, maybe a habit from trying not to look so tall. His gaze bounced around the room, from one pride member to another, and he avoided Marlana’s face entirely.

  After a long pause, the vampire cleared his throat. “I am Mikhail, leader of the Corona Vampire Court.”

  Rafe had to hold in a laugh. Leader? This guy looked as dominant as a house kitten.

  “I invited you here to negotiate with our pride,” Marlana said formally. “The Corona Mountains are our home, our territory. Your very presence risks the exposure of our secret.”

  “My court is interested in a treaty,” Mikhail said. But still, his gaze was unsteady.

  Rafe scented the air, and could see several other lions in the room doing the same. There was no scent of a lie. The vampire had a heartbeat, but it was slow and steady. He didn’t visibly twitch at the words, or perspire, or anything else that subtly clued shifters into dishonesty.

  But the lie was there nonetheless.

  This wasn’t a meeting; this was a fake-out. But why?

  Rafe waited for someone else to call the vampire out on the farce. He waited for Marlana to notice. She was keenly watching the vampire, but still hadn’t responded.

  Was the perimeter safe? Rafe looked around the room. Several Guardians were missing. Laura had moved to stand closer to Marlana, but Michael and Agatha, the two most experienced Guardians, were absent. So Marlana hadn’t locked them inside, defenseless, with the vampires prowling beyond; they were protected by some of the Guardians.

  The vampire spoke quietly with Marlana. Rafe and anyone else could have listened in, but Rafe wasn’t interested in the words at this point—he was interested in what was really going on. He didn’t like any of this. His thoughts drifted to Brigitte. Was she safe? He took out his phone and sent her a brief text. You okay? Her reassurance would mean he could spend his focus here, figuring out this situation.

  While he waited for her response, he wondered if he should step forward. Not acting would have no effect, but that hadn’t worked out for him in the past—he’d lost his best friend when he first lied and then stood quietly by, waiting for the situation to play out. True, he’d been a kid at the time, but he should have known. This time, he would do the right thing.

  “Marlana, could I have a brief word?”

  Her eyes flashed as they met his, ice-blue and full of power. He shrank under her stare even as he realized it was a show of power for the vampire inside, and the others who doubtless waited outside.

  After a beat, Marlana nodded imperiously and joined him at the back of the room. “You, Rafe? Of all of us?”

  “He’s submissive,” Rafe whispered, so faintly he knew he’d never be overheard.

  He could see Marlana refrain from doing a double-take at the vampire.

  Rafe continued, “Watch his body language. The words he’s using—it’s all bullshit. He’s submissive and he’s here as a distraction.”

  “I see.”

  “Let me leave,” he said. “I know where to go, and I can figure this out.”

  She considered him, and he was transported back to that moment when he’d lied about Mickey. “You’ve been seeing that principal.”

  “How do you—”

  “I pay attention. I don’t ignore potential issues.”

  “She’s not an issue—”

  “She is if she’s a witch.”

  “She’s not a witch.”

  “She’s descended from someone powerful, and she might not practice or know about it, but she’s got the blood. If they thought a shifter’s blood was powerful, imagine what they’d think of a witch’s.”

  “How do you know?”

  “I found out as soon as she moved to Belnedge; the wolf pack up north let me know as a courtesy.” She looked tired all over again. “I’m a good alpha, Rafe. I don’t merely sit here in my territory waiting for people to pay me obeisance. I cultivate goodwill with other shifter groups, I monitor my territory, I work to make my pride safe and happy, to see it flourish.”

  Rafe nodded, too shocked to answer. He managed to say, “I never thought of you as a lazy alpha.”

  She closed her eyes for a second. “Some do. I want my pride to be happy, and that includes you. If they get that witch, we’re in danger, and I imagine you’re unhappy.”

  Rafe was already leaning toward the front of the house. He had to get to Brigitte. “I won’t fail you. Or her.”

  “Very well. Go.”

  As he left the room, he heard the vampire ask, “Is everything all right with your people?”

  “He’s fine,” Marlana said. “He needs to check on someone. Laura—no, Nina—go with him.”

  Nina caught up with him at the front door, her face blank. “Let’s go.”

  *

  Rafe sped to Brigitte’s first. Nina didn’t ask for any explanation, but he felt compelled to say something. “She has witch blood.”

  Nina nodded.

  “She doesn’t even know she’s in that much danger,” Rafe said.

  Brigitte still hadn’t texted back. Maybe she was in the shower. Maybe she had fallen asleep. Maybe she was still too freaked out about his confession that he was a shapeshifter.

  Maybe they’d already gotten to her.

  He parked on the street and jumped out of the Pathfinder. Nina got out quickly, too. Brigitte’s scent was in the air. “I smell her,” he said.

  “Me, too.” Nina didn’t look angry or miserable; her face was still carefully blank.

  He rushed up the sidewalk, but stopped at the sight of something glinting in the grass. Her Maglite. “Brigitte!” he called.

  No answer, but he hadn’t expected one. Her flashlight was out here. Did that mean…?

  He ran the rest of the way to Brigitte’s apartment and knocked. No answer. He tried the door. It was closed, but unlocked. “Brigitte!” he called when he opened it.

  Mr. Kanely opened his door a crack. “Something got her,” he said. “I heard her shout at someone and wa
tched her go to the street. Then this thing came out fast as lightning and grabbed her. I called the police, but they aren’t going to be able to fight whatever the tarnation that was.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Kanely,” Rafe said over his shoulder. He was already running back to his car.

  “Are we going to the Argothan Lodge?” Nina asked.

  Rafe nodded. “We have to help her. Nina, I can’t pretend I don’t love her—I do. And I’m sorry for what that might do to you, but I’m not sorry otherwise.”

  “I get it. Can we not talk about this anymore?”

  “Sure.”

  His headlights illuminated the road in front of them, and blurry trees lined the road as they sped along the highway. All Rafe could think about was Brigitte, and getting her back, and keeping her safe.

  Twenty-Three

  Brigitte struggled in the ropes that bound her. Two people—vampires—stood in the red entryway of this horrible house. Everything was coming back to her—the hallway of candlelight, the old mirror with the spots on it, the red wallpaper faded by weather and time.

  Her head throbbed. She felt like she might vomit. This was the place of her nightmares.

  Terrified to move, she breathed as evenly and as shallowly as possible. The two figures in the entryway were ignoring her for the moment, and she didn’t want to do anything to get their attention.

  One of the vampires was a woman, the other a man. The man looked to be in his twenties, with his dark hair styled in spikes, and a dimple in his chin, his face smooth. He wore jeans and a black t-shirt.

  Brigitte watched in horror as he slowly, ever so slowly, turned his head to stare directly at Brigitte.

  “She’s human,” the man said. “See how weak she is.”

  “She’s a witch,” the woman argued. The woman was beautiful. Long, flowing auburn hair, creamy, flawless skin. Her eyes looked cruel, though—cruel and dark. Brigitte wondered where the blond woman had gone—although creepy, she hadn’t seemed cruel. “A witch who hasn’t come into her power.”

  A…what? Brigitte’s heart thumped too quickly in her chest. She had…power? Rafe really believed in magic, but Brigitte never believed. At least, she hadn’t before. Now, though, she knew about shapeshifters, vampires…witches didn’t seem that farfetched.

  “How do you know she’s a witch?” the man asked.

  The beautiful woman said, “The ex-boyfriend confirmed her ancestry.”

  Brigitte closed her eyes. Oh, Marcellus. He’d told them her mother’s maiden name—Nanny Mae’s last name. If only he hadn’t said anything.

  “If you’re certain,” the man said.

  The woman said, “Of course I’m certain. She tasted right.”

  “Maslin is going to be pleased.” The male vampire pulled a sleek phone from his pocket and gave a tight-lipped smile. “He’s watching the drama put on by Mikhail right now. Do you think he’ll mind if we taste a little? A drop.”

  “Show some restraint, Chains.”

  He nodded obediently, but Brigitte watched him as the female vampire turned away. The male—Chains?—gazed at Brigitte and smiled. As she watched, he stuck his tongue up to touch one of his pointed fangs.

  A single drop of blood glistened on his tongue, before he closed his mouth and visibly swallowed.

  Brigitte fought a wave of nausea.

  Twenty-Four

  Rafe took the curves of the mountain roads too fast, tires squealing. Nina gripped the oh-shit handle, her knuckles white. Her eyes were wide and reflected the faint lights from the dash.

  “Can’t save her if we’re splattered on the side of the mountain,” she muttered.

  “If we don’t get there soon, she might not be there,” he said.

  “Rafe, they aren’t going to kill her.”

  He glared at the road in front of them, jamming on the gas as they came around another curve. “And you know this how?”

  Nina didn’t respond. “Fine, just stay on the road. We should probably stop, what, a mile off and then walk in?”

  “Yeah.”

  Shadows of trees whipped past them, faintly illuminated by the car’s headlights. After a few minutes, Nina cleared her throat. “There’s a pull-out just ahead. We could park there and run in as lions.”

  Rafe pulled over without a word. He and Nina climbed out of the truck and walked into the trees. Nina undressed and started shifting. After a few seconds, she stood at his side in her lion form.

  Something didn’t feel right. Rafe felt…watched. He listened carefully, sniffed the air. Nothing out of the ordinary. Writing off his suspicions as fear for Brigitte, Rafe pulled his shirt over his head to get ready to shift. Once his shirt was all the way off, though, a figure fell from the trees and landed right in front of him.

  Vampire.

  Rafe dropped into a defensive crouch, but in his human form he was weaker.

  Nina growled and crouched as if she’d leap, but Rafe held out a hand. The vampire hadn’t attacked them—she was standing still, just in front of them, staring. She had golden-blond hair and deep red lips. Black eyes. Rafe hadn’t seen a vampire with any other color of eyes. Always dark like night.

  “You’re coming after her,” the vampire said in a low, musical voice.

  “Saving her,” Rafe said.

  The vampire nodded. “I’m supposed to stop anyone who comes through.”

  Rafe waited, readying for an attack, but the vampire didn’t move.

  Nina hissed, her tail twitching.

  “She’s my mate,” Rafe said. “The one you’re holding.”

  Again the vampire nodded. Then she bent her knees. Rafe braced himself. But instead of launching herself at Rafe and Nina, the vampire sprang up, back into the trees.

  Rafe looked down at Nina. “That was weird.”

  Weird, but a gift. He’d take it. He couldn’t wait anymore, and stripped out of his pants. Let the lion take him. He felt his shift through his core—his lion wanted it. Needed it because he needed Brigitte to be safe.

  As soon as he caught his breath, he looked over at Nina, and the two of them ran full-tilt toward Argothan Lodge.

  Twenty-Five

  Chains took a step closer to Brigitte. Brigitte held herself as still as possible. If she knew any of her grandmother’s magic, she’d be bibbidy-bobbidy-booing herself the hell out of this place. As things stood, however, she didn’t know anything useful.

  “What are you going to do to me?” she whispered.

  He smiled, showing off his fangs. “Share your blood until there’s nothing left of you. Then it’s up to Maslin. We could sacrifice you for a boost, or give you the final kiss.”

  He spoke about it so casually, like he was planning what to make for dinner.

  “Final kiss?” She didn’t want to know, but she needed to know.

  “That’s when we make you—” he ran a cold finger along her collar bone “—into one of us.”

  The female vampire made an unattractive snorting sound. “She’d make the weakest, most useless vampire I’ve ever seen. Worse than little Gracie Jane.”

  Chains laughed. “Don’t let Bo hear you say that. He’s convinced Gracie’s the wickedest of us all. Either way, you’re right about the witch. I’ll be recommending Maslin does the sacrifice, use her blood in a protection spell, the end.”

  Brigitte couldn’t take in full breaths—each one seemed to catch in her throat. These creatures didn’t care about her feelings, but they seemed to care very much about their own well-being. Begging would do no good. Bargaining…maybe.

  “I’ll do whatever you want,” she said. “Feed you, give you my blood. Willingly. But you have to set me free.”

  “Why would we do that?” the woman asked, turning back to her. “We need you here, witch. Your blood will protect us. The magic you carry keeps us from being discovered. Whether we use it all at once in a sacrifice or dole it out over time, it’s all the same to us. But you must remain here.”

  “But I am a person. I shouldn’t
be killed, or kept against my will.” Maybe she could stretch their belief in her abilities. “I can keep you safe from town, even while I go about my business. The range of my magic is great, and—”

  Chains interrupted her with his laughter. “You don’t know shit about magic.” His phone buzzed in his hand and he stopped laughing as he read the screen. “It’s Mikhail. They’re coming back—the meeting ended early, and it’s not good.”

  The female vampire didn’t say anything, but her demeanor became tense and still. Brigitte didn’t think she’d ever seen anyone so still; the woman looked like a cruel and beautiful statue.

  After a soft intake of breath, the woman spoke. “Someone’s here.”

  Chains grabbed Brigitte. She found herself being dragged down the hallway. Digging her feet into the red rug, she slowed her progress somewhat. “Help!” she screamed. “Help me!”

  The female vampire rushed to brace herself against the door, but she wasn’t strong enough. The door and its frame splintered inward.

  Two snarling mountain lions stood in the wreckage of the door. The female vampire vanished into the shadows. Brigitte felt Chains hesitate before he dropped her. Brigitte fell to the floor with a thud and faced the mountain lions alone.

  One lion looked at her curiously for a split second before returning its gaze to the shadows in the hallway. The other stalked toward Brigitte, its tail twitching, its eyes on the high corners of the hall, alert for danger.

  Brigitte scrambled away from the lion awkwardly, afraid to turn her back on it. Then he looked straight at her. The dark brown eyes would be familiar to her anywhere, as full of love as they were.

  “Rafe?” she whispered.

  Twenty-Six

  Rafe couldn’t see the vampires anymore, but he needed to reach Brigitte. Before anything else, he had to know she was okay.

  The fear in her eyes nearly ruined his resolve, but when she recognized him, whispered his name, he realized that the world was theirs. Love belonged to them, and love would get them through this.

  Then the vampire hit him from behind.

  Brigitte screamed, and Nina screamed, too, in her lion form.

  Pain. Blinding, all-encompassing pain. Rafe felt it wash through him, followed by anger. They dare kidnap his mate? And then try to keep him from her? Through the pain and anger, he twisted and slashed with his claws.