Soundless footsteps fell with inhuman speed. Whipping through the air behind him, the black fabric of Walter’s cape became one with the shadows, cloaking him in darkness. The woman’s blue eyes flicked, sensing his approach.
“I’m getting hungry,” Charlie said, shifting his weight between his feet. He cracked his neck, left and right, showing the impatience of his immaturity. “Think he’ll share?” If he’d learned anything from his sire, he should have known the answer was no.
The blue-eyed woman squared her shoulders and stepped in front of her companion, shielding the blonde from us. A brave stance, though the flutter of her pulse betrayed her fear.
“Leave before you regret it,” she said. Her voice was sultry yet soft, with a purposeful edge to her threat.
“Hannah?” the blonde questioned, still unaware of our presence. Her name was Hannah.
Pale fingers grasped Hannah’s neck, lifting her body off of the ground.
The blonde shrieked, seeing the threat for the first time. Then instead of running, she dove forward in an attempt to help her friend. Walter tossed the human woman across the ground with a flick of his wrist.
“Ashley,” Hannah growled between gritted teeth. Her eyes remained on the blonde that laid upon the ground, as she held tight to Walter’s arm. Brave, and loyal—qualities I respected, though they’d cost Hannah her life. “Run,” she said, with unshaken authority.
“Hannah,” the blonde cried, rising to hands and knees.
“Go.”
Without another word, the blonde did as she was told, and ran from the dark alley, past Walter and her endangered friend, past me and Charlie. The young vampire inhaled as the girl went by, like a ravenous dog getting the first whiff of his dinner. Mascara-laced tears streamed down the blonde’s face, and her heart raced, but my eyes were locked on Hannah. I couldn’t say why. The sensation was strange. But for some reason, I cared.
Charlie disappeared from my side, chasing after the blonde. They didn’t matter. Walter squeezed Hannah’s neck, and I could feel the fear and strength within her, the gasps she took to fill her lungs, the fervor with which she scraped at his jacket sleeve. I knew it shouldn’t matter. My brother had fed night after night for over a hundred years, and I'd watched, unflinching. When I'd felt the need, I’d done the same. And I knew this woman should have meant nothing to me. Somehow though, I knew she should be mine. I couldn’t watch her die.
My feet moved without thought, without regard for the consequences that would likely await me if I drew my brother’s blood. I ran for her, for the woman I knew nothing about. It was my only choice.
Her nose wrinkled above bared teeth, and elongated. The long, flowing hair atop her head grew short as animal-like fur grew through her fair skin. Popping and cracking filled the dark alley, as her tight jeans, jacket and t-shirt grew loose. Walter dropped the changing beast to the ground, as I closed the distance to where they stood. Clothing tumbled to the damp concrete, leaving a majestic creature of shining onyx.
Wolf. Black as night itself, her coat shimmered in the moonlight. It had been decades since I’d watched the transformation of a shifter. None before had ever affected me. Hannah’s head turned as she jumped back from Walter’s advance, and I glimpsed those same bright blue eyes she’d had in human form.
A silver blade slid from Walter’s sleeve, slashing at the wolf’s fur. He was too fast, faster than she could recoil. “Looking to share, Bennet?” Walter flashed me a sharp-toothed grin, with his fangs fully descended. “Scraps only. Main course is mine.” With that, his seax pierced her skin. The scent of her blood overtook the rest of my senses, and I dove at Walter.
“Let her go.” The words were grating from deep within my throat, as my shoulder slammed into Walter’s side. The first hit was free. After that, he’d be ready.
“Overestimating your claim to my prize,” Walter said, turning his blade to me. I drew the seax our sire had gifted to me upon my rebirth. The pearl hilt felt natural in my hand. But for every night I’d practiced with my weapon, Walter had done the same.
I struck first, catching the edge of his cape with my blade. His counter struck home. Pain radiated out from the hole in my side. Wet, hot, stabbing pain. I clutched the wound, just above my hip, and sliced a second time at my blood brother. I clipped his arm. Not good enough. His second strike severed the tendon in my shoulder. I clenched my teeth and fought the instinct to make peace with my brother. My actions made no sense. I knew that they didn’t. She shouldn’t have mattered. She shouldn’t have been worth this. But she was. I knew she was.
“I’ve changed my mind,” Walter said, his sharp face contorting into a horrific grin. “I’m not going to share. Not one bite. I’ll drain her and leave you here to suffer with nothing to feed on. Seems it’s been too long since I taught you a lesson.”
“Feed some other time,” I said, wincing as I tried to move. “We still have a job to do.”
I turned to where the she-wolf had been. She wasn’t there. Had she run?
Walter grinned at me, and flipped his blade in his hand. “This isn’t about what we’re supposed to do. We both know-”
A thick shard of wood stuck through the front of Walter’s chest. His eyes went wide. He turned on his heel, to face the woman who’d stabbed him in the back. This time, the stake impaled his chest, and my brother fell to his knees. More than ever I was torn between my duty to help my injured brother, and the irrational draw I felt to this woman.
I met those big, bright, electric blue eyes. Once again a woman, Hannah stood, staring right at me. Sharp nose, full lips, and bare, creamy white skin. Her hands slid over her full breasts and between her thighs in an attempt to cover her nakedness. There was no hiding those lush, delicious curves. A gentle blush covered her cheeks. Desire rushed through me, hardening my cock and aching in my fangs. Walter would survive. Dealing with my brother could wait. Hannah couldn’t.
Chapter Three
Hannah
Canines far too long to be natural, silent movement, inhuman speed, no discernible sign of a beating heart. Still, I couldn’t believe.
Had I really just killed a vampire? No. Freaking. Way. There was no such thing. And he couldn’t be dead, though only a shifter could have survived something like that. A really lucky one. Maybe he was some kind of shifter I’d never encountered, a bat shifter that would heal when I was safely somewhere else. He couldn’t be dead. I had never killed a man before, and I didn’t want to start now.
The idea sickened me, though I knew I did what I had to do. I wanted to check for a pulse, call an ambulance, run like hell. But I couldn’t look at the man on the ground. My eyes were locked on the one that still stood. The threat I still faced. The tall one that hadn’t attacked me at all.
Two feet in front of me was an impossible man. His long, black coat blended into the darkness, his face hidden in shadows. He had to be six-feet tall, though I had this feeling that if I blinked he could disappear as quickly as he’d appeared. If I hadn’t been staring right at him, I wouldn’t have believed he was there. But I was. And as if in a trance, I couldn’t look away. His jaw was hard, stubble-coated, and between his lips were the exposed tips of sharp fangs. Against my better judgment, I had to see more. Just a step closer, then maybe I could see. I could think of nothing else, nothing more pressing than seeing his face. Until I remembered that I was naked.
Just like that, I remembered exactly what the hell was going on. “Turn around,” I ordered, doing my best to cover myself. Instead, he stared. “Seriously,” I said, feeling my cheeks heat. I had to find my clothes, but I couldn’t risk taking my eyes off of the man on the ground, or the man in front of me. Danger. Both of them. They’d appeared together from nowhere. Why had this one helped me? No matter the reason, it didn’t mean I could trust him. And I’d think more clearly as a wolf, or with my clothes on. Since I had to find Ashley, clothes on was my only option. “Don’t be a dick.”
“If you didn’t want me to see you,”
he said. The corner of his mouth lifted up into a dangerous grin, revealing the full length of his impossibly elongated fangs. “You shouldn’t have stripped in a public street.”
“And your friend shouldn’t have attacked me.”
“He’s not my friend,” the man replied. “And you should go before he wakes. He’s going to be pissed.” Wakes. So he wasn’t dead. I wasn’t sure if that was a relief or not. Sure, I didn’t want to kill someone, but I didn’t want him getting up either.
With slow, careful steps, I moved away from the man in black. He didn’t follow, only watched. “I’ll go when I find my clothes,” I replied. He nodded.
Beneath my feet was cold, wet pavement. I searched by touch. Soft and dry—I’d found my clothes. As quickly as I could, without taking my eyes off of the two strange men, I dressed. Underwear, shirt, jacket, pants, and shoes on, I was ready to search for my friend. “So are you a werebat or what?” I asked, then started down the alley back toward the street. It was a brisk pace, as I searched for her scent, unsure where Ashley had gone. Also, being in the light of the street lamps, among other people, offered safety I desperately needed.
“Is that… a thing?” he asked.
“So that’s a no,” I replied.
“No,” he said.
“You aren’t… vampires, are you?” I had to ask. “Or some kind of zombie or something?” Not that that was more plausible. They probably belonged to some weird cult that ate people and put on prosthetic fangs to be extra creepy when they hunted down their next victims.
He said nothing.
“Great,” I said. “You’re quite the conversationalist.” And since he didn’t deny anything except for shifter, I was still left without any idea who or what this guy was.
I shouldn’t have suggested Ashley and I search one more street. I should have insisted we go home. Ashley was out there alone. And I had to find her.
Somehow the shadowy figure walked by my side without creating any evidence of his presence. It was like he was part of the night, and nothing more. No way was I ever going to get used to that. I kept my eyes forward, away from him, looking for any sign of my friend, yet aware of exactly how close this strange man was to my shoulder. The little hairs on my arm stood on end, maybe from the cold, but more likely from him. “So what makes you different from your friend? Why does he want to eat me but you don’t?” I asked.
“He’s not my friend.”
“Sure, yeah, you said that,” I replied. Again no denial. Which led me to believe that this guy agreed with his buddy—that I’d make a nice snack.
Cooking grease, motor oil, sweat—before I could see any sign of life ahead, I could smell it. Around a small curve, streetlamps lit the alley’s entrance, and allowed me my first real look at the man from the shadows. I stopped and stared.
He was bigger than I’d first thought. Maybe bigger wasn’t even the right word. Solid? Massive? Freaking built. Yeah, that one. His shoulders were twice as wide as mine. His charcoal, button-down shirt was form-fitted to his flat abs. I wasn’t sure exactly what I’d expected, track marks and sweatpants maybe. This was a pleasant surprise.
But it wasn’t until I looked at his face that my brain turned to jelly. A five o'clock shadow coated his square jaw, which was tight with tension. With the way he’d spoken, I’d expected him to look older. Instead, he was young, handsome. His lips were thin, which complemented the strength of the rest of his face. And the fangs I’d noticed before were no longer visible. Had they truly existed at all?
It was his eyes that held me still, trapped and unable to breathe. Like freshly-dipped, chocolate-covered cherries, his irises were impossibly alluring. Deep, dark brown, yet somehow dangerously tinted red. I wanted to ask why—was it a quality of his kind, whatever that was, or something unique to only him? I had to know. Everything. I couldn’t blink. Couldn’t look away.
“Time for you to go,” he said. And just like that, I was released.
“Ashley,” I said, looking back and forth down sidewalks filled with perfumes and colognes, smoke and grease. How was I supposed to find my friend in the sea of scents? Could she have gone back to our apartment? Would she have gone in a diner or bar? How had I allowed myself to be distracted from finding her?
“Forget the human,” he said. “Get out of the city.”
I turned to the vampire or zombie or whatever he was. “Like hell,” I said, and took a step away, only to find his hand on my wrist. Huge, cold fingers, yet soft skin. He held tight, yet didn’t squeeze.
“No one stabs Walter and walks away,” he said.
I could feel the heat rising to my face. “That sounds like a threat,” I replied. “And what kind of stupid name is that for a serial killer? Walter? Really?” He lowered his brow, and tightened his jaw. Apparently I’d offended him. Good. “Let me go.” I pulled my arm, but he held tight.
“You can go anywhere. But you can’t stay here,” tall, dark, and gorgeous insisted.
“Like I’m going to get bossed around by some strange guy from some sneaky, ninja, goth cult,” I said. “Do you all have weird grandpa names?”
“No.”
“Let me guess you’re an Albert, or maybe Eugene,” I said. “Something they gave you when you left your regular life and burned all of your belongings.”
“Bennet,” he replied, and released my wrist. His face softened, and I felt a little bad about being so harsh. But no sane, nice guy sneaked up with his buddies on two girls in an alley. Or worse, kept company with someone who’d try to eat me. Buddies. There’d been three of them. Fuck.
“There were three of you,” I said, stomach twisting. If that guy pretended to be a vampire, Ashley would go with him. And what if it was true? Was that worse? I had to find her. “Where’d the other guy go?”
“After the blonde.”
“Where?” I knew it was crazy, and desperate. If I couldn’t tell, how would he know where they’d gone? I knew he had no reason to help me, though I had to cling to hope that I was wrong about him. About everything.
He began to walk without another word. Bennet. Could he really be a vampire? There was no sign of his fangs when he spoke. In the light he looked so hot, err, human. But there was no better explanation for the attack.
Close, but not too close, I kept pace with Bennet, and scanned every inch of the city streets for my friend. His movements were masculine, yet somehow graceful for a man his size, with footsteps quiet enough that even I couldn’t hear him. It was both intriguing and unnerving at the same time.
Through the glass storefront windows, people smiled and browsed aisles of classic books on tall, wooden shelves. Couples shared coffee and pastries at little round tables. It felt like the rest of the world was bright and happy, at least from the outside. Most importantly, there was no sign of Ashley.
Bennet’s hand brushed my knuckles, igniting my skin, and sending a charge of excitement through me. I pulled away, and avoided looking at him. The last thing I needed was to be distracted. And this man was definitely a distraction. But somehow, he came through for me.
Her scent was clear to me before we reached her—peaches and cream lotion. Ashley. I took off running around the corner of a brick building, into a small alley. Behind a dumpster, I found my friend. There was no scent of fear, only blood and excitement. All of which came from Ashley. A man with shoulder-length blond hair knelt on the ground, his back turned to us. Cradled in his lap, she was hidden from me. I could see only the toes of her boots and the near-white strands of her bleach-blond hair. “Ashley,” I cried, racing for my friend. My feet couldn’t move fast enough. “Ashley!”
Shadows shifted. A streak of black. And there was only Ashley. I cradled her in my arms, held her close to me. “You’re okay,” I whispered, trying to convince myself that it was true. “You’re going to be okay.” Her skin was cold, her pulse weak. We should have gone straight home. I shouldn’t have let this happen.
On the ground beside me, kneeling next to us was Benne
t. I looked into his eyes, more red than brown. How had I ever believed they’d been anything less? His gaze was that of an old soul, of remorse, of loss, and of knowledge. Again I wondered how my perception had been so misguided. There was no way he was close to my age, even though his face had no wrinkles. Looking into those irises, that deep shade of blood red, I should have been terrified. Yet somehow I knew he meant me no harm.
His lips parted, revealing his fangs. The fangs of a vampire. And the fear I’d felt for my friend seemed distant. Everything would be okay. Somehow I knew. One look at him and I knew. He scraped his fingertip along the point of his fang and traced it over Ashley’s neck, over the two marks where her life had been drained. There were no wounds when Bennet’s finger lifted. It was all true. The fangs, him helping me, all of it. Had it not been for him we’d both be dead.
Then Bennet rose. And in a flash he stood ten feet from us, pulling the blond man by his upper arm. “Goodbye, Hannah,” he said. “Leave Scarlet Harbor. Tonight.”
And then without explanation, he was gone. I looked up and down the alleyway. There were no shadowy figures, no trace that they had ever existed, except for the streaks of blood on my friend’s neck. Leave Scarlet Harbor. Tonight. Yeah right.
I pulled my phone from my pocket. We needed an ambulance. She couldn’t die. I dialed 911, but before I could speak, Ashley’s eyes opened.
“We did it,” she whispered, voice strained as she spoke. “I’m really… I’m going to be a vamp-"
Her eyes slid shut, and I heard the voice on my phone. “What’s your emergency? Sir? Ma’am?”
Vampires. They had to be vampires.
Chapter Four
Bennet
When I closed my eyes, she was there. Those bright blue eyes beckoned me. If only it had been thrall in that alley. Mindless, flesh-eating monsters I was good at.
Pierced: A Wolf Shifter & Vampire Paranormal Romance (Vampires of Scarlet Harbor Book 1) Page 2