by Amber Kallyn
“Come in,” his father’s muffled voice came through the thick oak.
Shane entered and headed over to the desk. He took a seat in one of the thickly cushioned chairs across from his father, and tapped his fingers impatiently on his knees while waiting for the phone call to end.
Gerald Spencer was a true Apache, from the sharp, angular face, to the long black hair held from his face with a bandana around his forehead. It was easy to picture his father rallying warriors to ready for a war against evil.
Gerald hung up the phone before leaning back in his chair with a sigh. “The Council wants to bring in a Judge. I’ve held them off for now.”
Shane gripped his knees. “A Judge? Why?”
Judges were members of the Arcaine races, but more powerful than the rest—no ordinary vampires, shifters or demons. And they were all given an open hunting license by the Council. They didn’t hold trials, just dispensed justice as they saw fit.
A Judge coming in would only make things worse.
“From what I could gather, someone’s been sending the Council messages a war has started between the clan and pack.”
Shaking his head, Shane leaned forward, resting his forearms on the desk. He met his father’s dark, worried gaze. “I just came from Jordan’s place. There’s no war.”
“He may be your friend, but the man is still the territorial Master. He owes his responsibilities to his people, not us.”
“And he has the highest respect for Keepers. We’ve helped him out with pack issues many times. We can trust him.”
His father stared at him. “High praise considering what Greg Hanson told me you were saying about vampires tonight.”
Shane laughed. “The old dog actually called you?”
“Worse. He called your mother. He’s still got a sweet spot for her.” After a long minute passed, his father’s eyes gleamed. “Glory came to see me as well.”
“Oh?”
“Said you came across her and her boyfriend a few days back. Told me about an incident.”
Shane opened his hands and looked at them, thinking about how badly he’d wanted to kick Blake’s ass. Drag his sister away from the wolf. Three days later, he still wanted to track the man down. “We are Keepers. How can you let her have a... relationship with him?”
His father opened a drawer and pulled out an engraved wooden pipe. Heavy silence filled the room as Gerald filled it with tobacco. He stuck the pipe between his lips, and flourished his fingers over the carved bowl. Sparks hovered in the air, slowly dropping onto the tobacco. A sweet-scented smoke rose in a thin, curling line.
Finally, he met Shane’s gaze. “Why should Glory not be allowed to keep love, no matter where she finds it?”
“Because he’s a werewolf.”
“And?”
Shane fidgeted as he gathered his courage to face his main problem with the whole thing. “The only way they can have a relationship is if he turns her.”
Gerald nodded slowly, his eyes slits. “So you do have a problem with those you are sworn to protect.”
“I don’t mind protecting them, or keeping the peace. But... Glory...”
“You find your baby sister precious. Do you think your mother and I value her any less?” His father’s voice held a threat.
“No,” Shane replied with honesty.
“Then leave it be. Glory will make her own choices, just as you did.”
Heat flushed up his neck at his father’s reference to the time he ran away. Shane had left the small town, trying to get away from everything paranormal. In the city, he joined the police force, only to be confronted by a past that just wouldn’t let him alone. He’d finally given up a few years ago, coming home to fulfill the duties that should have been his older brothers.
But none of that mattered right now. And it didn’t change his mind about Glory, but he dropped the subject.
His father tapped the pipe against the ashtray and relit it. “Is there anything else you would like to talk about?”
A picture of Niki DeVeraux flashed in his mind, making his heart thump a bit faster. “Nothing.”
His father’s gaze was penetrating, but the man only said, “Your mother waits.”
Feeling like a chastised young boy, he left his father’s study and went into the overflowing kitchen. Relatives and friends greeted him, asked questions, or slapped him on the shoulder as a hello.
His mother was a small woman, tiny really. Barely five-six, their entire family towered over her. Yet, with a glance, she kept them in line. Shane had more than once been terrified by her ‘look’. As usual, she wore her long black hair in a braid. No make-up adorned her youthful face. She glanced up, laughing at something, her brown eyes filled with amusement.
She spotted him and her face lit with joy. “Shane, my son.” She wrapped her arms around him, drawing him into her embrace. Somehow, all of his worries felt a little lighter.
Until he saw the scowling face of his older brother in the far corner. Brian turned and stormed out of the house, knocking back a few people in his way.
Their mother sighed. “I don’t know how to help him get over it.”
“Neither do I.”
Jasmine patted his cheek. “It’s not your fault. He will come to know this.”
Shane wasn’t so sure. It was bad enough to be chosen as the next tribal shaman, without the guilt of knowing his older brother had been passed over. They’d all grown up believing Brian to be the heir of the family’s hereditary magic and power. Expected it. The Fates always chose the eldest child.
Except this time.
The years since the Fates’ decision had turned Brian into an angry, bitter man who rarely came to visit, and never spoke a word to Shane.
It was a hole in his life, losing not just his brother, but his best friend.
A hand tugged on his arm, and Shane turned. Morning Dove, his grandmother, beckoned him to the table in the corner of the room. He followed, helping her sit comfortably. He took his place next to her, and let her have his hand. She traced the lines over his palm with her finger absently, as she stared at the spot just above his head.
“Tell me about her.”
“Who?” Shane asked.
His grandmother flicked his ear. “Don’t be dense, boy.”
“She’s a vampire.”
“Mmm. But tell me about her.”
He did, unable not to. And not because he was afraid of his grandmother’s magic, either.
Morning Dove frowned. “Alone. So alone Yet, brave. Great pain can change a person.” Her gaze slid to the back door where Brian had left. “Bring her to me. I want to meet this Niki.”
There was no way to get out of it. “I’ll ask her. But I’m not going to kidnap the woman just so you can meet.”
Morning Dove laughed. “Maybe you won’t. But maybe...”
He pressed a kiss to her cheek, taking his leave. Shane headed out to his truck. He needed more information. If the vampire Niki sought was behind the murders, she was the only person he could get that information from.
And if she didn’t want to work with him, he’d just have to convince her to cooperate by any means necessary.
Chapter Six
The day passed quickly though Niki only managed a few hours of restless sleep. She couldn’t stop thinking of the too-sexy sheriff. As the sun set, she strapped on her daggers, and slid a short sword into a sheath at her side, hidden beneath her billowing sapphire blouse.
She left the motel room as the last rays of the sun disappeared. The heat of the day hung in the air, the promise of fall lingering, though it would soon be winter.
She kept alert for any signs of the King’s men. Getting caught the night before had been embarrassing. The man wouldn’t get the drop on her again.
Heading down the busy main street, she sensed another vampire, but faintly.
Cars passed by, full of boisterous teenagers on Friday night dates or parents taking small children to dinner. The laughter and smi
les, tender glances between parents and children, eased over the rip in her soul. She continued to walk the streets, heading further into town. The air cooled, allowing mist to rise from the gutters. Mists which served as brutal reminders of past losses.
Gritting her teeth, she concentrated on trying to track down the vampire’s scent, now heavy on the night air. She came to a small corner diner full of people.
A dart of power came from inside. It pushed, yet invited at the same time. Making sure her weapons were hidden, she entered the bright eatery.
“Sit where ya want,” a waitress called from behind the counter.
Scanning the black and white, fifties-style decor, she chose an empty booth in the far corner. Her back safe to the wall, she let the atmosphere wash over her. The coppery metallic edge of blood lingered. The vampire’s magic pushed harder, but it didn’t have much power behind it to keep her away.
The waitress slapped a menu on the table, then spun, checking with other people as she made her way back to the kitchen. Niki’s gaze stopped on a young man seated at the counter.
As if sensing her at last, the guy glanced her way. He was young, maybe fourteen or fifteen—in human years, anyway.
He blinked, his eyes flashing red pupils. He jumped from the bar stool and ran out the door, unheeding the couple he knocked aside.
She didn’t know if he was connected to Thomas or the King, but she’d damn sure find out. In a flash she raced after him.
Outside, the air whispered with scents and magic. Niki turned left, tracking the boy’s fear-laden scent.
It might be a trap. She didn’t care. She was a hunter out to catch her prey.
The thrill of the chase filled her blood with the age-old song of the hunt. Her canines lengthened, slipping over her bottom lip as she sniffed the air. Her hunger strengthened. She flashed by fewer people travelling the increasingly darker streets.
Their pulses were warm throbs on the night.
And she was hungry.
* * *
With the sun long down, Shane readied to find Niki. It was clear that if they didn’t work together, it would take too long to catch this rogue killing humans and shifters. He couldn’t let another death happen. Not with a war ready to spark.
The need to see her had nothing to do with the fact that he craved Niki’s soft voice, or her scent, or her touch.
Nothing at all.
The sheriff’s station was nearly deserted, only the night crew remained. He closed his office door and shed his uniform shirt, more comfortable in a sleeveless tank. Then he pushed back his desk.
Beneath it, etched in the concrete floor was a series of circles, four Ndeé hoops. In the central circle, sinuous lines formed the great animals of his tribe—the eagle, the wolf, the bear.
Shane slung a medicine pouch around his neck, drawing open the leather string. He scattered a handful of red grains of sand over the form of the bear—his totem animal.
The tattoo covering his left side flared with heat as brother bear responded to his call.
Lighting four colored candles representing the earthly directions, he knelt in the circle and listened.
The spirits of the forest were dimmer in town, yet he could still hear their calls. From the top of his desk, he lifted the dagger Niki had accidentally left in his truck. He laid the knife on the bear, then shuffle-stepped around the center Ndeé four times. Shane chanted to brother bear in his native language as he danced.
The spirits whispered of stalking danger. Not just to his physical being. There was a threat to his very soul, to the harmony of his connection to the earth.
The knife took on a bluish glow as the spirits responded to his request. Shane fell to his knees, giving thanks to all who had shared their magic. Grabbing the dagger, he released the circle, moved his desk back, then bolted from the station.
The dagger continued to glow, showing him the way to Niki.
He reached Sal’s Diner, but passed it. She’d been there earlier. Her trail wound through town as if she’d chased—or been chased by—something.
* * *
Niki moved faster through the night. Soon, she could hear the boy’s running steps. He was so young, he didn’t even have control of his power.
Too slow, too loud, to escape.
She rounded a corner into an alley. Sounds of the boy’s flight disappeared. Cautiously, keeping to the shadows, she headed into the tight space.
She could smell him, the tinge of blood mixing with fear. And a hint of Thomas’ stench.
“Come out. I’m not going to hurt you.”
He didn’t respond.
Near a row of trash cans, she turned. In a blink, she reached in between two barrels and gripped his shirt, jerking him from his hiding place.
The boy stared up at her with wide, fear-filled eyes.
“I told you I’m not going to hurt you.”
“Y-you’re a vampire. Vamps always lie.”
She cocked her head. “Really? Do you always lie?”
He shook his head, violently straining against her hold. “No.”
“Then not all vampires lie.”
The boy’s struggles slowed. “If you don’t want to hurt me, why were you chasing me? You’re going to take me back to him, aren’t you?”
“I chased because you ran. Back to who?”
His struggles became frantic. The boy’s shirt ripped and he tried to flee once more. Niki was faster. She grabbed his arm and hauled him back, pushing him against the brick wall.
“I-I don’t want to go back. You can’t make me.” His voice filled with bravado and he raised his fists ready to fight.
“Don’t make me kick your ass.” She leaned closer. “Who are you running from?”
The boy shot out a fist which she easily dodged. “Try it again and I’ll knock you to the ground, boy.”
He did.
She hooked her foot behind his ankle and shoved him to the pavement. “Will you calm down? If I wanted to hurt you, I’d have done it already.”
Shaking, he rolled to his side and curled into a ball. “Just kill me. I’m not going back.”
She could guess who the boy was afraid of, even without smelling Thomas. She hadn’t met many who could instill this type of terror. Which meant this boy knew where Thomas was hiding.
Something in her softened at his trembling form. She wasn’t about to torture the kid, so she’d have to convince him to share willingly. She reached down to tap his shoulder. He struck out, his fist glancing a painless blow against her cheek.
“For Christ’s sake,” she huffed, picking him up and tossing him over her shoulder. He resisted for a long moment before finally going slack.
Niki hauled him out of the alley and into the street. “If you don’t tell me who you’re running from, I can’t help.”
The boy’s only response was a shudder.
“Fine.” She continued carrying him down the street, ignoring the strange glances from the few people she passed.
Only a few blocks from Main Street, the hair on the back of her neck prickled. The air filled with the scent of wet dog. She stopped, looking around, but the shadows undulated too quickly to pick anything out.
A growl came from behind her, followed by others all around them. The boy over her shoulder tensed, his chest heaving as if he was crying.
“Vampire filth,” a gravelly voice called from the darkness.
“Kill, kill, kill,” another one chanted.
“They need to die for Doug.” The growling was joined by a long, mournful howl.
Niki called out to them, “I don’t know who that is, but I didn’t kill him.”
“Vampire. One is the same as another. You all must pay for his death.”
“Look, we’re just passing through. Not looking for a fight.”
“Too bad, blood drinker. You found one.”
Niki set the boy down. She yanked out her motel room key and a dagger from her boot, pressing them both into his hands.
&n
bsp; “You know where the Inn is?”
His gaze skittered over the circling shadows, eyes glassy with panic.
She smacked him on the side of the head. “Do you?”
He nodded.
“Go to room 113. Wait for me.” She gave him a warning look. “If you make me hunt you down, I’ll be pissed.”
The growls drew closer, louder.
“And if you don’t come back?” he squeaked.
She stared at him, hard. “I will.”
Niki drew the short sword at her back, and grabbed another dagger from her boot. “I’ll clear the way. Run when I tell you.”
Around them, wolves slunk from the shadows. She counted four, but there were more. Unseen and waiting in the darkness.
“I-I can try to fight,” the boy whispered without confidence.
“Just do as I say.” She braced herself, staring into the surrounding blue eyes, watching and waiting.
Claws scrabbled on pavement as the first beast lunged.
Niki swung her short sword against the wolf, who yowled in pain. She stabbed her dagger into its side, then shoved it away.
“Now,” she yelled, rushing at another wolf blocking their way. It snapped, jumping. Teeth and claws scratched at her belly and arms as it met her charge. Cutting deep into its muzzle and back, she barreled over the damn beast. “Now, damn it.”
The boy finally came his senses and ran. Niki stayed just behind him, forcing back the wolves nipping at their heels. Growls raced after them. The wolves weren’t giving up, even if they were growing cautious.
Ahead, Niki spied Main Street. “Go. Get to the Inn.”
She stopped and spun, facing the wolves. A blur leapt toward her, jaws angling for her throat. She fell back, and jabbed her knife along the exposed belly as the wolf flew over her.
Rolling to her feet, she stared at the pack. Sliding her dagger back into her boot, she drew the special one from the sheath at her lower back.
She held it up. “This one is silver. You’ll heal from the damage I’ve already done, but not nearly as well from what I’m going to do to your worthless hides.”
One wolf whimpered, but another growled. They stalked forward, hackles raised, teeth bared.
“Fine, then.” She slammed against the nearest wolf, slashing its legs.