I stared at the phone in my hand and saw the Call Ended notice flash on the screen. I filled two more glasses with water. Then I looked toward Ariana’s bedroom, where she cuddled in bed with my two best friends.
I had to protect her. I had to warn her.
I had to confess everything.
Also by Keira Blackwood
Protectors of the Pack
The Protectors of the Pack Complete Series Box Set
Bodyguard
Enemies
Heir
Vampires of Scarlet Harbor
Pierced
Hunted
Ruled
Can’t Prove Shift
Misdelivered
Continue reading for a preview of Pierced!
Also by Liza Street
The Corona Pride
Savage Yearning
Savage Loss
Savage Heartache
Savage Thirst
Savage Bliss
The Dark Pines Pride
Wild Homecoming
Wild Atonement
Wild Reunion
The Rock Creek Clan
The Rose King
Continue reading for a preview of Wild Homecoming!
Pierced: Chapter One
Hannah
For the third night in a row, no clouds veiled the near-full moon. Its bright, honey glow brought out the sapphire shade of the sky, and beckoned my inner wolf to come out and play.
But it wasn’t just the moon that had me ready to strip my clothes and shift. It was the icy air that swirled into the night sky every time I exhaled, like smoke from my grandfather’s pipe. It was the feeling of winter that chilled my gooseflesh-covered arms and sunk in to my core. Winter was home, and home meant tearing through fields of freshly-fallen snow with my pack.
But Scarlet Harbor was a long way from Nowheresville, Vermont. And October in Maryland was still autumn, which meant no snow. Plus, the whole point of going away to college was to be away from what was comfortable and easy. It was about not spending my entire life in a small town where I knew everyone, and everyone knew me. It was about not taking over the family shop, and settling down with a mate just because that was what was expected of me.
Living in Scarlet Harbor wasn’t easy. Stripping naked in the city street was generally frowned upon. So was being a wolf.
So for the third night in a row, I stared up at the moon, while I followed my roommate on a wild goose chase. It was the latest string of murders plastered all over the news that had her so worked up. I’d never met anyone so passionate about chasing down a serial killer. Okay, I’d never met anyone else who’d want to. But I could scour the earth and never find anyone quite like Ashley King.
“The wooden stake thing, that’s not real,” my roommate explained, as she turned down a dim, damp alleyway. If I remembered right, we were headed toward the scene of the second murder. But I was sure Ashley knew exactly where she was going. She put her fist over her heart in a stabbing motion, and stuck her tongue out to the side. I smiled. She had told me all of this before, a hundred times, stake-to-the-heart gestures included. But when she got excited, she just couldn’t help herself, and I got to hear it all again. Twice as much since the murders had started. Like most people, I was convinced it was the work of a deranged psychopath. Ashley was sure it was the work of vampires.
“Oh yeah?” I replied, as I took in the scents of garbage and mildew, rats and discarded beer bottles. There were countless alleyways just like it in the city, not too far from campus, the affluent neighborhoods, or the postcard attractions of the harbor. Tall, brick buildings encased us, each built fifty years ago or more, each coated in a film of green growth that was resilient enough to thrive in the dark. Homeless people gathered under overpasses, junkies in dark passages—a stark contrast to the small town I’d grown up in. Maybe it was because she was from Scarlet Harbor, but Ashley was numb to the poverty and the creeps that stared at us. She was fearless. She never seemed to care who was around, unless they sported fangs. Which no one did.
Ashley was too enthusiastic about the hunt to notice that I wasn’t paying much attention to the conversation. Instead, I listened to the little noises all around us, and kept watch for danger. When on the hunt for a murderer, I figured it was best to remain vigilant.
As soon as the vampire talk started, I tuned out. It didn’t matter anyway, I already knew what she was going to say. ‘You have to destroy the heart,’ and ‘a lot of the rumors were actually started by those who wished to conceal their true weaknesses.’ Ashley’s obsession with vampires was all-consuming, and had been since before we’d been assigned to live together freshman year. With people getting slashed up and eaten two miles from campus, she’d only grown more eager, and had conducted more research. She was convinced that the chatrooms and wiki pages online had given her the ‘real’ facts about vampires. I loved her anyway.
“Yeah, I mean, if you completely destroy the heart, that’ll do it,” she said, and adjusted the book bag on her shoulder. “But it doesn’t have to be wood. That’s how they kill each other, you know, rip out the heart and drink the blood. But that’s pretty rare.”
“Right,” I said. With a deep breath, I took in the cool, crisp night air. I could smell him before he bolted from between metal trashcans, paws flickering in a flurry of fear. A little, black cat. The lid of one of the cans clanged as it hit the ground, and echoed through the alleyway. Ashley’s green eyes sparkled with excitement as she scanned the alley for the source of the noise. But there was still no vampire, so she kept talking. And I responded automatically. “Yeah,” I said.
“And they especially love to eat girls named Hannah who don’t listen to their friends.” I heard her words, somewhat, but my attention was on the cat that hid from us. His tiny heart fluttered as quickly as his legs had moved. I had never wanted to be a cat, but I envied his ability to roam the city. If I shifted, ran around on four paws instead of two feet, there was no way I could blend in so easily with the surroundings. If there was a shifter in the city, other than me, he’d probably be happiest if he could change into an alley cat. Or maybe even a rat, though I’d never met a shifter that could do either. People went running when they saw a wolf. A cat, not so much.
“Sure,” I replied, noticing that it was my turn to speak.
“Hannah, what did I just say?” Ashley asked, as she turned with her hands on her tiny, model-sized hips. A crease formed between her perfectly-shaped, dark brows, as she scowled at me. And I knew I’d spaced just a bit too long.
“What?” I asked, . Ashley’s plum-painted lips pursed. Busted.
“I don’t get why you don’t believe me,” Ashley said, dropping her arms. “With the whole werewolf thing going on, you should be more open-minded. There’s plenty of doubt out there about your kind too.”
“Wolf shifter,” I replied.
“Whatever. Paranormal weirdness, no offense.”
“None taken.” I said; and I meant it. After only a year and a half together, Ashley and I were like sisters. She knew my secret, and she didn’t care. Maybe she even liked me more for it. I knew she wasn’t prejudiced against my kind. “But that’s my point. Until I moved here I lived with other wolf shifters my entire life. I’ve met bears, tigers, foxes—I’ve even heard stories about dragons.” Ashley’s green eyes lit up.
“Stories,” I repeated; and her shoulders sunk. “But I’ve never seen or heard of vampires outside of books and movies.”
“Maybe they’re just that good at hiding, or maybe there aren’t that many of them. Maybe we’ve seen them a thousand times, every time we come out here hunting. And maybe when we find them, they just glamour us into forgetting the whole encounter.”
“Maybe,” I said.
“I wonder if there’s anything that can stop a glamour. Or maybe just some hypnosis therapy that would allow us to check back in time, to the deepest recesses of our memories. You know, just in case.”
My skepticism must have sho
wed, because Ashley sighed.
“I guess we should get back to campus,” she said, defeated. Even though I thought the idea of real vampires was silly, I hated to see her disappointed.
“How about just one more block,” I said, and took her hand. Ashley smiled.
“Thanks, Hannah.” We strolled out of the alley and waited at the light for the little walking man symbol to glow green. Midtown was still busy at this time of night. Cars flew by in both directions, cheap and ritzy alike. It was one of the things I liked most about being in Scarlet Harbor—a microcosm of the world, people from different backgrounds, from different places, all crammed together in a hundred-mile radius. Every metered spot along the curb was taken, rustic bars and restaurants packed and full of life.
We crossed the busy street, with a crowd of men and women, all dressed in jackets and coats, scarves and hats. A group of guys about our age laughed loudly, and an elderly couple held hands. Skin tones ranged from pale as snow to dark as chocolate. All together moving as one. Diversity really was the best part of the city. Plus, when I’d taken the tour, there wasn’t a single scent of another shifter. Scarlet Harbor was so different from home. Which was exactly why I chose this university.
When we reached the other side of the street, the crowd dispersed, and I led Ashley down another alley, just like the last. This one too was empty of human and vampire life. The streetlights faded behind us as we turned behind the row of buildings. Just like the last, the walkway smelled like garbage.
Our path ended with a fifteen-foot tall chain link fence stretching from the warehouses that flanked it. Barbed wire topped its twenty foot height. Maybe it was a prison. Either way, we weren’t going any further. “Okay,” Ashley said, “let’s head back.” I nodded and we turned around, only to find three shadowy figures blocking our way. Impossible.
“Pinch me,” I said.
“What?” Ashley asked.
“Is this a dream?” I asked. “Ouch.” She really pinched me. And I wasn’t dreaming. There was no way I could have missed their approach. With the advantage of being a shifter, I should have heard their footsteps. Their breathing. Their heartbeats. There was nothing. No scent. Nothing. They moved closer, three dark figures that I shouldn’t have feared. Something about them was wrong. A knot formed in my stomach. My hair stood on end. My instincts screamed 'shift and run like hell.' No way I was leaving Ashley. I squeezed my friend’s hand and prayed that my instinct was wrong.
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Wild Homecoming: Chapter One
While the Ford Raptor barreled over the mountains, Jackson stared at the road through the windshield, looking between Will and Hayley, his brother and sister, who sat in the front seats. They were quickly approaching the Washington border. So close to home. But as always, they’d careen right past it and head up to Canada.
Always on the run. But after driving around the US for four years, it was hard to feel any fear. If the boogeymen were still after the Jaynes siblings, they’d have caught up by now.
Jackson’s phone buzzed in his lap, and he glanced at the screen. Another notification from one of the Licorice Fiddles’ social media accounts. His sister turned around, watching him from the front seat, while he unlocked his phone and scrolled through the comments on SocialBook.
“Didn’t you just check that?” she asked, her bright blue eyes narrowed in judgment.
“Hayley,” he said. “It’s my job.”
“Dick nozzle,” she said, her voice affectionate, “they don’t pay you to monitor their online stuff all the time.”
“What else am I gonna do?” He gestured at the constantly changing scenery beyond Will’s giant pick-up truck. Now, it was autumn, and the deciduous trees were changing color, peppered in among the evergreens.
Will, as always, drove with his hands looking relaxed on the steering wheel, although Jackson knew “relaxed” wasn’t possible with Will.
“I don’t know what else you could do,” Hayley said. “Get a life of your own, maybe?”
He flipped her off, and she flipped him off, and then she turned around to face the front of the truck.
The message icon at the top of his screen lit up—a personal message, not something intended for the band whose accounts he managed.
SMG: Where are you today, Mr. Globetrotter?
Jackson’s heart lifted in his chest, and he had to look outside to make sure it wasn’t because of a sudden rise and drop in the road. Nope, there was nothing wrong with the road. He was just reacting to another message from Summer.
JRJ: Approaching the Washington border and fighting with my little sister. #FamilyRoadTrip #FromHell
She sent back a laughing emoji.
He noticed she didn’t ask whether his family would be stopping near Huntwood.
The little town of Huntwood, with its nearby Paris Lake, was what he and Summer had in common, and it was the element that had kickstarted their online correspondence. She lived there now, and up until four years ago, Jackson had lived there his whole life. Huntwood had been the closest town to his family’s territory of Dark Pines, which bordered the lake.
He thought for a second, then messaged her again.
JRJ: What I wouldn’t give to see your real smile.
She didn’t respond. Maybe he was coming on too strong. He’d been exchanging private messages with Summer for two months now, and any time he got too personal, she’d disappear for hours or even a full two days. But he couldn’t help wanting to get to know her better.
She wouldn’t give him her last name. That was fine—he didn’t want to pry for personal details that made her uncomfortable. But what did she look like? Her profile on SocialBook was a faraway shot of her standing by the lake he’d grown up next to. She was wearing jeans and a pink sweatshirt, and a big floppy hat that shadowed her face.
He hated that fucking hat. He wanted to see her eyes, see her smile.
His phone had gone black while he waited. Maybe she wouldn’t respond. He cursed his impatience—he should stop saying things about wanting to meet her, wanting to know more about her.
Suddenly, a notice had his phone buzzing again.
Hayley turned around in the front seat and hissed at him. “I swear I’m gonna take that phone and chuck it out the window.”
He curled his arms around the phone protectively, because he believed her. She’d done it before, somewhere in Louisiana or Florida—he couldn’t remember the exact state, just that there had been swamps and alligators. At least Will had made her buy him a new phone.
Jackson was twenty-five, Hayley twenty-one. And Will, at twenty-nine, was pretty much parenting them. It was messed up. Jackson wanted out. He wanted to stop running from place to place, and find a territory, and settle down again.
Sighing, he pulled up the message app again. Then he laughed. In response to his message about wanting to see her real smile, she’d sent him an image. There was a smile there, all right—the smile of a yawning elephant seal.
JRJ: Hilarious.
SMG: I know, right?
He stared at the message screen for a minute. They were so close to his family’s territory—or they would be, as they went up through Oregon toward Washington. Maybe he could stop by the Dark Pines territory. See Summer in Huntwood, if she’d agree to that. Visit Paris Lake again, the lake where their parents had taken them every weekend in the summer for picnics and swimming.
JRJ: Hey, Summer, do you know anyone by the last name of Clausen in the area?
SMG: I don’t know anyone personally. Are you trying to get in touch with an old friend?
Something like that. He wrote back, Just want to know if they’re still around anymore. My family knew theirs pretty well.
Until the Clausens had decimated the Jaynes family, tearing the Dark Pines Pride apart forever.
SMG: You want me to ask around? I talk to a lot of different people each day.
JRJ: That’s the closest you’ve ever come to telling me what you do.<
br />
SMG: Yep. Vague for a reason, buster. Doesn’t matter how many puppy dog eyes you send me.
JRJ: A man has to live in hope.
She sent another smiling emoji, then her “online” status changed to “offline.”
And that was the end of that. He went into the account of the Licorice Fiddles and responded to comments, then posted a clip of them performing. He responded to a couple of bloggers who wanted to get interviews with the band, and then he brainstormed some posts for the next week, gathering clips and quotes to use across all of their social media accounts.
Every few minutes, he went back to SocialBook to look at the photo Summer had sent him. A smiling elephant seal. Maybe she actually did look like an elephant seal, to some extent. Would that bother him?
Not really, he decided. As long as she had the personality she presented in their SocialBook messages, he still wanted to meet her.
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About the Author
Keira Blackwood
Keyboard ninja, late-blooming bibliophile, proud geek, animal lover, eternal optimist, visual artist.
Keira Blackwood writes steamy paranormal romance full of suspense, action, and a dash of humor. No cheating. No cliffhangers. Always a happily-ever-after ending.
www.keirablackwood.com
[email protected]
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About the Author
Liza Street
Dragon Unbroken: A Reverse Harem Dragon Fantasy Romance (Spellbound Souls Book 2) Page 21