The Vampire Went Down to Georgia

by Selene Charles

  There he was—Clarence the betrayer. Standing tall, looking not like a man who’d had his credibility and his title stripped from him, but arrogant and cocky as always. Handsome as ever, with his arms crossed and his long dark hair hanging down his back, a lone eagle feather tied through a braid of it. He looked a little worse for wear with a few new wrinkles lining his eyes and mouth, but not at all like a man who’d just fucking lost everything.

  He kept his eyes down and his face completely blank, trying like hell to look like a man contrite. But knowing him the way I did, having been raised with Clarence, who’d proven to me time and again just how far he was willing to go to retain his power, I didn’t buy this mouse of a man act for even one second.

  A sound like a soft growl rumbled through my chest.

  “That son of a bit—”

  Blue whipped around, placing his hands over mine as he whispered in my ear, “Now, now, doll face. Remember where we are.”

  I bit my front teeth together and tossed him a frosty glare.

  He still wore a sardonic smirk, but his eyes were dead serious as he gave a faint shake of his head, flicking his glance toward our left and right. The signal was obvious enough. Not only were we not alone, we were thick in enemy territory. If I moved against any of them, even a fallen, murderous bastard like Clarence, I was on my own. I had Tenebris and Blue with me, but if I unleashed my sister, I’d kill them all. And unlike the vampires, for whom I felt no sympathy, I did have family here and would rather die than harm them. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to get myself under control.

  Tenebris displayed her first real reaction in a couple of days. She was awake. Awake and pissed as fuck, practically vibrating like a tuning fork inside me as visions of death and shocking violence played like a movie reel in my mind with all the things she wanted to do to Clarence. I’d not realized how much she’d also come to despise our old Alpha until just then. She and I were on the same page when it came to wanting to kill that bastard who Mercer had the misfortune of calling his father.

  Blue’s finger tipped my chin up. I opened my eyes and stared into his electric-blue ones. His face was intensely serious. “We good?”

  Feeling my mouth flood with saliva as my fangs tried desperately to lengthen, I counted slowly to three before saying, “Yeah. Yeah, fae. I’m good.”

  Gareth was no longer standing beside Blue, but me, and his hand had not-so-subtly moved to the weapon he’d hidden beneath his jacket. Knowing the shifters, they’d take no chances with an unstable, freed vampire. Gareth’s weapon was a Glock full of ash-tipped bullets, I was sure.

  “Clarence has served the Silver Creek territory for many years with pride and dignity, and though these circumstances we find ourselves in aren’t ideal, we must rally to remember that united we stand, and only divided do we fall.” The Campbell’s voice rang out with strength and clarity through the hall as he pointed to the audience. “Any one of us could fall victim to moon fever if we do not remain vigilant. We do not forget the atrocities he’s committed, but we do remember the man he once was and the man he still is.”

  I snorted.

  Blue chuckled but squeezed my wrist until I felt my delicate bones yield in an exquisite bloom of pain that made me hiss. Gareth pressed into my side, letting me feel the heavy outline of the weapon he kept hidden on his person.

  The threat was subtle but effective. Behave, they were saying. I lifted my goblet to my mouth and said nothing else.

  There were low murmurings of approval mingled with only a few voices of dissent. What kind of power must the Campbell wield to keep so many subjects so loyal?

  Even during Clarence’s better days, back when he’d been normal, there’d been rumblings against him. It was the way of wolves. The young were always trying to prove to their elders that it was their time to lead.

  But I wasn’t seeing that with the Campbell. This was different. Special.

  I scrutinized his scarred face, trying to work out for myself whether this tall and imposing man was just a fraud who’d fooled them all. Even the rival clans looked on him with something close to reverence. Or, like Clarence, did he know just what to say to mask the evil schemes in his heart? Or finally, and I would have said completely unlikely until now, was he was really one in a million? A man of honor and integrity who kept control not by threats of power and violence, but rather love and loyalty?

  If it was the latter, then Gods help anyone who ever moved against that man, as they’d have an instant army of enemies at their backsides.

  “We are a proud and ancient nation,” he boomed, projecting his voice all the way to the nosebleed seats.

  Shouts and roars of agreement reverberated through the room. The Campbell grinned, and despite my own reservations about being here, I found myself leaning toward him. He was electrifying. Hypnotic. There was a dignified self-possession about the man that was extremely appealing.

  “Gods,” Blue whispered, “he’s got them all eating out of the palm of his hand, doesn’t he?”

  He said it without an ounce of sarcasm, and if Blue was spellbound by the man, then I had a suspicion the Campbell was someone you never wanted as your enemy.

  I glanced at Blue, raising my brow in silent agreement.

  The Campbell grinned a crooked but confident smile, and I no longer found the man quite so repellent. The scarred and hideous side of his face now looked more like a badge of honor than a deformity. After almost a minute of roars and applause, he held up his hands.

  The transformation was immediate and made my skin tingle as reverential silence echoed through the hall. Everyone, to a man, went instantly silent.

  I shivered.

  “It is because of all the good Clarence has done for the shifter nation that we give him one final honor. We could have assassinated the entire McCarrick clan and would have been justified to do so. But I wish to bring the packs into a new age, one of unity, of brotherhood. It is for this reason that the Alpha Council has determined that Clarence McCarrick will be allowed to appoint a warrior, one he feels will help restore the balance and honor of a once-great clan. To this end, I call forth Mercer McCarrick.”

  I sucked in a sharp breath, and my hands shook, causing a bit of wine to splash out of my goblet. I suddenly felt like I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t even blink, as I watched the man—my man—climb slowly up the steps.

  Long blond locks hanging heavy against his shoulders. Strong back, thighs, and ass out and exposed for all the shifter world to see. His body was painted in bold, black lines. He looked like a wild man, a Norse god of old.

  All he needed now was the hammer and lightning.

  My thighs tingled, and my belly quivered. I wanted him, lusted after him, even as my heart clenched with a terrible fear of what came next.

  I stared at those around me, noting the hard looks in the eyes of some of those in the crowd. Not everyone was happy that the Alphas had allowed Clarence the chance to win his pack back through proxy. But no one spoke or even so much as fidgeted with displeasure.

  Beside me, I felt Blue stiffen, and I thought maybe he’d say something typically Blue-ish, like what a nice ass Mercer had. But when I glanced at him, his gaze was flicking between Mercer and Clarence, tension bracketing his mouth with lines of unease.

  Mercer took his spot beside Clarence, standing just to the left and in front of him. Clarence was no longer acting like an Alpha. It was Mercer, not his father, who took the position of power.

  The Campbell clapped a hand onto Mercer’s shoulder.

  “Most of us have seen an exchange of power at some time in our lives, but for the few of you who’ve not, there are ten rounds with one hundred of our strongest, most battle-hardened warriors. At the end of a week, we will have a new successor to the Silver Creek pack. The rules are simple...”

  Mercer’s eyes roamed the great hall. I leaned forward, knowing he was trying to find me. But when his eyes landed on me and I gave him a soft smile of encouragement, his gaze drifted away
just as fast.

  I frowned, clenching the railing tight with one hand as black ice skated down my spine. I knew he’d seen me. I’d seen the brief but sudden flare of his pupils. So why had he acted like he hadn’t?

  “I wouldn’t worry about it, lass,” Blue said, laying his hand over my own.

  I swallowed, glancing at him as I heard the Campbell drone on in the background, laying out the framework for the great trials.

  I shrugged. “I’m not.”

  His lips twitched. “Of course not.”

  Pursing my lips, I stared back down at the fighting circle, where the Campbell was recapping the rules. Warriors could fight fair or dirty, could kill or choose to spare a life, could use weapons, or not. In essence, there weren’t any rules.

  I’d seen shifters fight before. It wasn’t pretty, and the deaths were rarely elegant. They were brutal, ugly, and gory.

  “Winner of the trials will earn glory, the Silver Creek lands, and the hand of my daughter, Enora.”

  The blond with the tiara, Enora stared straight at Mercer, neither blinking or smiling. But there was a glint in her eye that let me know just who she wanted to win the tournament.

  “I hate her,” I ground out, making sure to keep my voice low enough that no one more than four inches from me would hear.

  “Mmm.” Blue nodded. “I hate her too. She’s hideous.” He mock shuddered.

  My lips twitched because I knew he didn’t. I saw the way he looked at her. Enora was an Amazon, a gorgeous and powerful shifter who commanded attention the same as her father. She was a rare prize and the kind my faery friend would love to possess.

  Still, I loved him for being on my side this time.

  “Tonight, we witness only one duel. Tomorrow, the tournament begins in earnest. So enjoy, drink, eat, and be merry, all.”

  The Campbell and Clarence gripped forearms, giving the customary greeting and farewell of Alphas. Enora stood off to the side, stepping just outside the ring. The ginger rolled his neck and shoulders, grin and cocky attitude long gone, replaced by a look that said, if given half the chance, he’d rip Mercer’s head from his neck.

  Mercer’s look was cold. Vicious. I read death in his eyes, and I shivered. I wasn’t squeamish when it came to killing, but I was torn. Killing in the heat of battle was one thing. Killing for sport was another.

  This might be a respectable way to go about finding the replacement Alpha for Silver Creek, certainly better than alleyway schemes and shadowy assassination attempts. But this was sport too.

  Seeing the rabid anticipation in the eyes of those around us, I was immediately back in the ring at OZ, battling for our lives.

  There were heavy groans and low rumbles as the warrior’s bodies began the painful process of the shift. Mercer grunted as his mouth stretched, turning into a cruel-looking muzzle full of sharp, glistening fangs. Fur sprouted out of their bodies, covering them from head to toe, one ginger, one a golden blond.

  As one, they tipped their heads back, letting out blood-chilling howls, and I sucked in a sharp breath.

  The battle had begun.

  The hum of chatter rose until the room was electrified by it as the men squared off. In their half-shifted forms, they pounced on one another. Mercer’s hands circled the ginger’s throat, his massive muscles straining as he attempted to break Ginger’s neck.

  Ginger’s arms were around Merc’s waist, squeezing so hard that I felt choked by a sudden lack of air, feeling the ghostly tremors of sympathy pain as bone rubbed on bone.

  I gasped, rubbing at my burning mate’s mark, cringing with each blow the two behemoths exchanged.

  “Scar?” Blue whispered into my ear.

  I turned toward him, black spots dancing in my vision.

  I shook my head. “I’m fine, Blue. It’s just the mating transference. I’m feeling what Mercer does. It’s just phantom pains. It’ll pass soo—”

  I was looking at Blue and not down below, so I didn’t brace for the strike of phantom claws sinking deep into the flesh and muscle of my side. I cried out as fire burned through my flank, and I clamped a hand onto my left side, sinking to my knees. Bloody tears squeezed from the corners of my eyes, and a sound like that of a wounded animal spilled off my tongue.

  “Scar!” Blue hissed as his arms wrapped around me. My head was spinning, and I was sucking in air like a bellows. I was gonna pass out. I reached blindly for something, anything, to hold me up, my head lolling like I’d been drinking all night.

  Tenebris was crying out, hissing and snapping, acting like a caged wild animal who didn’t know what was happening to it, only that it wanted to die and take everything down with it.

  Then an ungodly roar, so loud and full of fury, cut through my panic. It was Mercer. I knew that sound. I’d heard it back at the Infantes castle, the sound of a beast ready to kill.

  Tenebris and I were able to wade through the quicksand holding our minds prisoner. Blue was there, bracing me under one arm, helping me to stand again.

  “Dear Goddess above,” he whispered. Then I saw why he’d been suddenly bereft of anything more intelligent to say.

  Mercer was straddling the ginger, his eyes burning like neon-green hellfire. His muzzle was pulled back, his fangs fully erect and ready to rip through flesh, muscle, sinew, and bone.

  His breaths were coming in massive, forceful gulps, causing his abdomen to cave and flex with each mighty heave.

  The ginger’s eyes glowed a luminous yellow-gold, and there was blood coating his obviously broken jaw and neck. Loud whimpers reverberated through his chest. His neck was unprotected and completely exposed. His furred red belly was also open and vulnerable to attack. It was the universal sign of surrender.

  The last play was Mercer’s alone.

  I would back Mercer no matter what he chose. There were reasons to show mercy, and there were also reasons to kill. Just because you’d been bested in battle once didn’t always mean the threat was nullified. Sometimes wounded pride made an enemy of the most unlikely.

  He moved so fast that he was a blur as he sank his claws deep into the ginger’s belly and eviscerated him. I pulled in a trembling breath, shivering all over at the ferocity of Mercer’s attack, feeling sick to my stomach, like I needed to puke.

  Tenebris trembled, but not with displeasure. She might like Mercer’s softer side, but at the end of the day, she was an agent of chaos through and through, and his act of shocking violence was like a heady aphrodisiac for her.

  Blood was everywhere. The audience, all of them battle-hardened shifters, gasped. Even they seemed stunned by the swiftness of Mercer’s attack.

  Mercer was still snarling when he stepped over the ginger’s lifeless carcass. His glowing eyes locked with mine only briefly. He was slowly shifting back, but I caught the wild glint of the wolf inside and the look of lust that was always there when he saw me.

  His body was coated in viscera and blood, and he resembled more his beast than his man, but even so, my answering desire for him bloomed like a dark rose opening its petals to the morning sun.

  The crowd began to stomp, roaring in praise or grunting in approval. It was forbidden for any pack who lost a brother in the challenge to exact revenge against the clan who did it, a rule that would be swiftly and brutally enforced by the elite guard of the Alpha Council. These games were one of the most ancient and honored of all shifter traditions.

  Mercer tipped his head back and howled, body bristling and vibrating with his rising bloodlust.

  The scent of blood was everywhere, but I wasn’t hungry or thirsty. My stomach was heaving and rioting.

  I swallowed hard. “I think I’m gonna be sick.”

  Blue rubbed my lower back, glancing at me with obvious concern. “You don’t look so good, little flower. Perhaps we should go back to—”

  He never got the chance to finish what he was going to say, because I gasped in shock when Mercer’s arm shot out and he snatched Enora over to him. Then he did something so horrifying th
at I snapped.

  Like, I went full on vampire in a second flat.

  He kissed her. With all the hunger and passion he’d only ever shown me. And she wilted, yielding completely to his masterful touch. The crowd roared their approval.

  I forgot all about my strange malaise and the violence of what I’d just witnessed. The only thing I knew was the urge to kill. To destroy.

  Tenebris flared to life inside me. I jumped onto the railing, crouching and ready to end them all. There were loud gasps just beside me, but my eyes were on Mercer alone.

  My mate’s mark burned like someone had driven a red-hot poker through me.

  Then, something strong and unbelievably powerful locked like a vise around me, yanking me back with such force that I heard four of my ribs snap.

  Crack.

  Crack.

  Crack.

  Crack.

  I howled. Tenebris grew wild.

  “I’ll kill you! I’ll kill you all!” I howled against the suffocating pain that threatened to lay me out flat.

  “Get it together, Scar,” a voice I recognized burred with a powerful Highland accent. “Come, sweet. Come. Dinna make me hurt ye anymore.”

  James grunted as he continued to hold me tight to his chest, grip unyielding. I flung myself around, claws out and ready to eviscerate him for daring to thwart my attempt at vengeance.

  All around me, I saw the eyes of shifters turn to stare. There was malice. Hatred. Revulsion. I didn’t care.

  “Let me go!” I cried out.

  “Do it, Blue. Goddamn it,” James hissed. “Do it now, you fecking prick, before she kills us!”

  Those were the last words I recalled hearing. The next thing I knew, something hot and repulsive was shoved into my mouth. Thick liquid, tasting unlike anything I’d ever had before.

  It burned like frost fire going down, and then I was out cold.