Black Werewolves: Books 1–4

by Gaja J. Kos

  Zarja noted the location in her mind, finally coming to stand next to the twins. “Come on. Let’s go.”

  She took them back to the intersection, pushing further south until they reached the first street that ran parallel to the one the vampires had taken. She didn’t lose much time before she found the building that bordered on the property she was interested in. And as luck had it, there were no signs of a surveillance system set up in the vicinity of this one.

  With a quick, discreet glance around, she jumped the fairly low gates of the driveway, Jens and Jürgen following silently on her heels. The wall overlooking the parking lot had no windows, a perfect location to stop and case the fence now looming in front of them.

  Do you guys see any surveillance set up? Zarja asked through the bond, not wanting to risk being overheard.

  No, Jens replied. Don’t smell any vamps outside, either.

  Zarja smiled. Things were back to evolving the way she wanted them to. She sank her claws in the rough concrete wall and scaled it with ease. Once she reached the top, she double-checked Jens’ statement about vamps in the vicinity. None.

  Come up, boys. She grinned, heaving herself over the ledge.

  Their feet made silent contact as all three of them found themselves directly behind the building the rogue twentyfourhourlies had entered. Just as Zarja presumed, there was no surveillance in the back, but they still had to cross the gravel quickly, finding cover against the cool stucco before someone spotted their intrusion. Because unlike the neighboring house, this one had several rows of windows looking their way.

  “So far, so good,” Jürgen whispered. A wicked grin spread across his face, his blue eyes beaming with excitement all three of them shared. “I’ll check out the eastern side of the house, see just how far Big Brother’s gaze reaches.”

  After Zarja gave him a short nod, the werewolf stalked around the corner, the white color of his T-shirt blending with the wall. His brother merely tipped his head in the opposite direction before he prowled past the small divide and sneaked into the patch of grass one could hardly call a yard. Left alone, Zarja peered up at the building again, counting the windows.

  With no breeze blowing towards her, there was no easy way of pinpointing where the vamps were, and she certainly didn’t want to risk climbing up to see for herself. However, there was something that might prove to be a well of information.

  It was efficient, but Zarja hated this part, regardless.

  She closed off the profound sensors in her nose, feeling as if a curtain fell across the world. Despite the phantom but very solid wall, the dumpsters reeked even before she made it to the tin roof that shielded them on the other side of the courtyard. The layout amped up the smell, but at least the rectangular slab of perpetual heat provided sufficient cover from prying eyes.

  Exhaling, Zarja extended her claws and carefully opened the first bag, not wanting to leave any evidence of her rummaging behind. She went through them one by one, always finding too much food in the bags’ contents for them to be of relevance.

  Wish you were here, Evelin. She sighed as her nose curled up at the stench of stale Chinese takeout.

  A chuckle greeted her from the other end. Want to try something?

  Chapter 6

  Leaning against an empty desk, Katja pulled on a pair of gloves as she observed Nathaniel prep the body for autopsy. The door to his office was locked even though his coworkers were already fully aware not to disturb the M.E. unless they wanted to be the ones splayed on the table.

  Nathaniel gave the vampire a reassuring look. He knew why she was worried, but it wasn’t as if he was taking any more risks than were absolutely necessary. Though that was already a lot by normal standards.

  The body in front of them hadn’t been reported to the authorities—in all honesty, it shouldn’t even exist. Nathaniel highly doubted the rogue vamps were notifying anybody outside their ranks about their newly deceased.

  He was, however, walking a thin line by having the corpse in the lab, yet it made him glad at the same time.

  Nathaniel was more than slightly surprised that Mark had remembered his wish for a chance to get his gloved hands on a vampiric body. Even more so, he was shocked that Rose had left one relatively intact.

  It was pure luck that he had been at work when Mark had called, saying he was on his way to dispose of a few corpses and asked if Nathaniel wanted one. It wasn’t even a question, really.

  They met in the back alley less than ten minutes later, Mark helping Nathaniel transport the body inside with the flawless stealth of a seasoned werewolf before he sped off to get rid of the rest.

  The instant Nathaniel hid the corpse in a private cold chamber he kept conveniently hidden in his lab, he texted Katja, setting the hour for their experimental meet-up. The vampire was dedicated to their work and was remarkably skilled, given that she had never obtained a proper education in the medical field. Nathaniel still remembered his reservations when he had asked her to assist him on Damir’s autopsy all those months ago. But even then, the vampire had been nothing but professional despite her friend being the one on the table.

  She had charmed Nathaniel immediately, and he had yearned to work with her ever since.

  He cast a glance in her direction, noting the slight changes of her features as she readied herself for the examination. It was nice to have someone in the lab who knew as much as he did. Being excited about new supernatural finds with no one to share them with had gotten a little tiresome over the years.

  However, after Nathaniel had established a working connection with Katja, the opportunities to exercise it were frustratingly few. For better or worse, vampires didn’t die as regularly as humans. It hadn’t occurred to him to ask for the remains of Rose’s attackers—Nathaniel understood the pack needed to get rid of the evidence as quickly as possible, not indulge him and his research. Whining and pleading for scientific materials seemed like a shitty, egoistic move under the circumstances.

  It was the reason why Nathaniel had let the subject go. And why he was more than pleasantly surprised when Mark had rung him up two nights ago.

  Now he had a whole day—albeit his supposed day off—to explore the vampiric body with Katja.

  She came to stand by his side when Nathaniel nodded that he was ready to begin the procedure. He made the Y incision, the vampire’s skin parting diagonally from his shoulders until the two cuts met mid-chest, then trailed down his stomach in a single, precise line. Katja helped him peel back the skin, exposing the vamp’s insides.

  Nathaniel picked up a saw from the tray and turned towards Katja, his hand outstretched. “Want to do the honors?”

  Beaming at his proposal, the vampire took the instrument and began sawing through the ribs without a single moment lost. Nathaniel watched the vampire’s immaculate skill as she worked, a question already forming in his mind.

  “How come you took an interest in anatomy?”

  It was an innocent question, but Katja found herself blushing. She reminded herself that as Tim’s brother and an M.E., Nathaniel was no stranger to gore. Or skeletons in one’s closet, for that matter.

  “I have… I’ve encountered a lot of bodies in my past,” she answered softly, her eyes focused on the work of her hands. Only when she had successfully removed the ribcage did she lift her gaze. “You’re not surprised?”

  “No.” Nathaniel shook his head. “And I’m not judging, either.”

  Her face bright, Katja smiled at him. “Good. Because I like working with you.”

  “And if I hadn’t replied the way I did, you’d have to eat me?”

  It took the vampire a moment to realize he had made a joke. She stifled a laugh, offering him a lopsided grin instead, fangs out. “Exactly.”

  He chortled and passed her a scalpel. Katja cut through the tissue, gradually freeing the intestines.

  “How come you decided to become an M.E.?” She peered sideways, the instrument in her hands stopping for a moment before s
he focused her attention back on the body.

  From the corner of her vision, she noticed him narrow his eyes, his lips pursed as he rummaged through his memory. “I guess it must have been seeing a whole lot of injuries while growing up. My mother wasn’t a werewolf, but she died when I was six, leaving me as the only human in the family. And having a were brother who always came home broken and bruised from his training initiated me into the world of medicine. It wasn’t like I saw it as some calling back then, didn’t even see it as a career until it was time to decide what to do with my life. It was…my way of contributing to the family.”

  He stepped closer, aiding her as she lifted the intestines from the stomach cavity. “Although he chose to, Tim didn’t have to pursue a degree. Pack life is everything—education, job, retirement. I, on the other hand, did.” He shrugged, keeping his bloodied, gloved hands safely in the air. “Maybe I knew that someday I’d have to keep his ass out of trouble, or maybe it was the simple fact that I wanted to be useful to him. Useful to the pack. Dissecting dead bodies was a good way to achieve both.”

  She laughed at the wickedly angelic expression on his face. She knew the human meant it, and she thought it was kind of him to shape his future according to those wishes. Especially when the wishes themselves were kind enough on their own.

  “It’s good that you chose this,” she replied and handed him the rest of the intestines before moving on, a hint of a good-natured smirk forming on her lips. “You’re brilliant at what you do. And I don’t have to hack vampires apart for science by my lonesome any longer.”

  Crazy. Evelin must have been going crazy. Still, Zarja did as the werewolf instructed her.

  She opened the bond as wide as it had been the first time it had snapped into place—when it had caught the pack unprepared. Perhaps even wider.

  With no walls keeping them separated, Zarja felt as if she’d become one with the werewolf. But before anything of substance could seep through from the opposite end, Evelin sealed off the exit with an airtight shield. Suddenly, she was left only with her own thoughts, the visual of the reality she actually saw—and the unnervingly solid presence of Evelin in her mind.

  I did it! the werewolf in question squealed, almost singing the words. I bloody did it!

  Zarja shook her head at the enthusiastic voice, knowing well that Evelin had no problems reading the gesture. What do you want me to do?

  There was a short pause as the other were contained her excitement and focused on the next step. Zarja used the moment to glance at the perimeter once again, verifying that everything was fine. She could see Jens prowling across the yard, visible only from her perspective. And by the careful, yet casual gait, she knew his brother must be doing okay as well. She relaxed—though the effect didn’t last particularly long.

  This will stink, but I need you to lift every barrier you keep on your sense of smell, Evelin finally ordered. I’ll try to intervene the exact moment you do.

  But the stench would hit her with its full foul potency in the second it would take Evelin to snap her grid in place. If it would work at all. She exhaled.

  You owe me a beer, Zarja shot back the instant before she dissolved the remaining walls into nothing.

  Her eyes watered as the reek exploded in her nostrils, but somehow, Evelin had managed to succeed in her devious plan. Not a second later the metallic tang of blood was the sole focus point in Zarja’s mind, her senses tuned purely to its unique structure.

  She let out a laugh of disbelief. You’re so brilliant it’s almost scary.

  The statement was met by a satisfied chuckle. Praise me later. I still have to find the damn thing.

  Nodding into thin air, Zarja let Evelin control her senses—although that wasn’t a fair word for the action. Control implied power, implied that Evelin could commandeer Zarja’s body and mind. It wouldn’t have been fair to label this unique connection with something so negative. Her body was still very much her own. It was more as if Evelin’s technique imprinted in her brain, allowing Zarja to apply it to the situation she had found herself in.

  And it worked.

  Got it? Evelin asked despite already knowing she had locked on the scent perfectly.

  Zarja heaved herself over the edge of the dumpster, her legs dangling just above the ground as she reached all the way to the bottom. With a grin, she maneuvered herself back to the tiled floor, clutching a relatively small black bag in her hands.

  Bingo, she told Evelin. Thanks for the help.

  Kicking me out already? the werewolf cried, her words saturated with mock hurt.

  Zarja snickered. Don’t you have a killer to sniff out at your end?

  Sniffing dead vamps for evidence isn’t exactly fun, you know.

  Are you saying you’d rather get your pretty little nails dirty digging through the soon-to-be-deceased vamps’ garbage? Zarja teased.

  Evelin hated getting dirty unless it was the blood of her enemies that caked her skin. There was no way she would volunteer for the job.

  On the other end of the line, Evelin sighed. Why do I always let myself be tricked into verbal sparring with you?

  Because you like me.

  A husky, sincere laugh. Fair enough.

  The bond went silent, that odd ethereal yet surprisingly physical presence of Evelin gone. Zarja sat down on the tiled floor, careful to avoid any suspicious-looking brown blotches, and tugged at the strings that bound the top of the bag together.

  As she expected, the plastic sack was filled with discarded canisters of blood. Zarja took it as a good sign. If the vampires were still buying their supplies from stores, they hadn’t resolved to draining humans. Not all the time, at least.

  Digging in, she didn’t truly know what she was looking for. She just wanted to find something that would shed even a little light on who the mysterious vampires were. She intended to give Katja a description of the three the pack had stalked to the building, but Zarja didn’t doubt that there were more of their brethren inside. It was the same gut feeling she’d had in the warehouse.

  It was imperative for the pack to know who they were up against.

  She pocketed a few receipts. They were all paid in cash, but maybe one of the stores or cafes remembered to whom the pieces of paper belonged. Or maybe, if they were lucky, the establishments had surveillance cameras set up. Obtaining the recordings would be nothing more than a mild nuisance, fairly easily pulled off in the middle of the night if Tomo couldn’t use his police authority on the owners and decided to help them on his own.

  Releasing a breath, Zarja rummaged deeper. There was nothing that stood out. Nothing but receipts and so many cartons of blood that—unless they were reluctant to take the trash out at regular intervals—Zarja began to believe the building harbored even more vampires than she had originally thought.

  She frowned at the idea, but something else caught her attention before she could truly dwell on it.

  Her fingers wrapped around the object of her interest, and, carefully, Zarja pulled her arm out of the bag. Her eyes widened as she grasped what lay in her hand.

  She cursed.

  This was too similar to be a coincidence.

  In fact, she was willing to bet her claws that it wasn’t.

  Chapter 7

  The balcony was on the bottom floor, bare inches from the soil that stretched down the length of the building. Just the way Rose liked it. Leaping from higher ground normally didn’t pose a problem, but with the limited maneuvering space in front of the apartment, the chances of her spraining something were stacked against her. Though Rose could heal that kind of injury in a manner of minutes, the idea wasn’t exactly appealing.

  When she decided to roam the grounds, she wanted to do so without any setbacks.

  She smiled. A steep hill of untamed grass served as the view, the uneven terrain making a quick ascent or descent easier.

  Gods, she had missed this place.

  With a glass of Chardonnay in one hand and a cigarette in the
other, Rose let the cool mountain air fill her lungs. The balcony-patio hybrid was already blanketed by shadows, announcing the approach of the typical crisp Tignes night. But Rose knew it would get warmer soon. And surprisingly, she didn’t mind it at all.

  The same way she didn’t mind staying in a populated area even if it made her nightly runs a little harder. Because sometimes, good company outweighed making a few compromises. Particularly if said company had brought you there in the first place.

  It was at the very last minute that Rose had changed her plans of visiting her mother in New York. She still had every intention to go, only a couple of weeks later; Ileana certainly wouldn’t be bothered by the delay. Her mother understood that the opportunity to visit Tignes again was something Rose simply couldn’t pass up. After all, it had been Ileana who had introduced her to the French Alps, giving Rose the chance to fall in love with the stunning terrain and fragrant air.

  Besides, the timing couldn’t be more perfect.

  The bloom of the summer season was still about a month away, which left Val Claret blissfully empty, with only the locals going about their business. There was still snow higher up in the mountains, and since the glacier was closed for a few more weeks, Rose would have it nearly all to herself. Green grass in the valley, winter up high. She couldn’t have asked for a better location to take her mind off things. Or, at the very least, to remove herself from the battleground Slovenia had become for her in the past months.

  The Alps had always been her refuge. And the gods knew she needed one now.

  The first tendrils of warm wind brushed against the nape of Rose’s neck, alerting her to the approaching company. She poured a second glass of wine and set it on the table before she turned around to see Serafina emerge from the cozy living room area of the apartment.

  The Koldunya was dressed in a simple tunic that came down to just above her knees, revealing those lean, beautifully tanned legs. Her red hair was dark as it fell wet across her shoulders and brushed against her tattoo, yet even with the dampness weighting the strands down, it couldn’t prevent the curls from forming. A smile tugged at Rose’s lips. She had never seen the witch look so radiant.