by Liza Street
Lapdog Three carried Maslin from the room. The remaining vampires—four left from the Corona Court, and the handful Ana had brought from Paris, stood in the ballroom, staring anywhere but at each other. Maslin’s pleading could be heard from the forest.
Gracie shrugged and met Bo’s gaze. They’d had a series of leaders; Maslin had just been one of them. Positions of high power held more risk—everyone knew that. Maslin wasn’t the first king they’d watch deposed, and he wouldn’t be the last.
Ana turned to face the rest of the assembled Corona and Nocturne Courts. “For the time, we are one. We will hunt together. We will act together. We will wage war together. The treaty with the Corona Pride has been out of effect since my arrival here. You may act accordingly. Follow their members. Gather intelligence. These mountains used to belong to Astor and me…”
Gracie sucked in a breath at the sound of Astor’s name. Astor, Ana’s consort, and the vampire who had made Gracie and Bo what they were. He still managed to terrify her, even after all these years and across the sea.
Ana was still talking. “…and we will take them back as a show of strength and an example to the other shifters in North America. From us, they have everything to fear, and they are powerless to stop us.”
It was an admirable speech, Gracie thought. But it didn’t stir her into caring. It didn’t awaken the demon within her, the demon who still thirsted for Sheriff Rhees’s blood.
After Astor had given her and Bo the kiss, they’d walked out of the Belnedge jail with him. Along the road, they’d found Rhees, dead from a bullet wound to the heart. That death wasn’t good enough for Gracie. She’d held Bo’s hand and sworn that she still planned on revenge. Wherever he sat in hell, he’d look up and regret that he ever messed with them.
Ana continued, “We will leave this place. It’s already known to the pride, and thus it is no longer safe. Why your former king had you remaining here like cattle awaiting slaughter, well, I suppose that was one of his last mistakes. We’ve purchased a large cabin on the mountainside. Cosette will text you the directions, and that is where we shall spend our days. If you do not wish to meet the dawn like Maslin, you will not share this information with anyone outside our court.”
The assembled vampires nodded their understanding, and Bo caught Gracie’s eye. Together they’d survived so long by keeping their heads down and avoiding politics. They’d follow the Nocturne Court’s instructions in order to survive, not out of any sense of loyalty.
“Now go,” Ana said. “Hunt, feed, and follow the Corona Pride.”
Ana and her contingent gracefully left the crumbling old ruin, and Gracie left, too. Bo was already gone, eager to hunt and slake his thirst, likely, and the others had already melted into the shadows.
Once the dawn came, Maslin, too, would be here one second. Gone the next.
She avoided the clearing where he would be tied up, but otherwise it bothered Gracie that she wasn’t so bothered.
Shaking off her morbid thoughts, she raced to town. Different vampires had different powers. Unfortunately, Gracie couldn’t fly, not like Ana or Bo, but like most of the vampires, she had supernatural speed. Within a half hour, she stood outside of town and watched the house of one of the shifters she’d met before. Rafe. He was the one mated to the witch. Gracie stared at their little cabin. It was remote. Vulnerable. When it came time to follow Ana’s orders, these two would be easy pickings.
She felt sorry for them, though. They were happy. In love. They weren’t thieving or doing anything wrong. There was no Sheriff Rhees to tax them into poverty and then shoot them for taking what should have been theirs. Maybe the court should leave these two alone to enjoy their happiness.
Hearing sounds coming from their cabin, she approached. An argument?
If she’d still had blood flowing through her like a human, Gracie would’ve blushed. Not an argument. These two were making love, and the witch’s moans were loud. She held nothing back, probably not realizing she was so easily overheard.
Gracie stepped back again, allowing them their privacy. The fact that these two could be so physical and so happy hurt her inside. She’d had this kind of joyful intimacy with Clive, at least as much as a young woman could. Eighteen, she’d been, when he died, and they’d been together for two years before.
She missed love in an abstract sort of way.
Her phone buzzed in her pocket, and she quickly silenced it before looking at the text Bo sent. Get over to Hart’s, it’s the bar outside Belnedge. Quick.
Not bothering to respond to the text, she hightailed it over to the bar. She’d been here before, but never gone inside. Looking down at her clothes, she figured she’d blend in okay. Dark-wash jeans, and a dark blue top. She usually wore dark clothes because they helped her be less conspicuous when she was hunting. Easier to get away in time if the prey started to remember something. Usually she was pretty good at memory wiping, but it was best to be safe.
Hart’s used to be an old farmhouse. Back when they were humans, it would have been the kind of place she and Clive could have made a comfortable home in. Small, two-story, no frills. Now, it was packed with people, loud music, and the scents of alcohol and perspiration.
This place smelled alive.
Bo stood in the far corner, a beer in his hand, his gaze intense.
Gracie hurried to his side and searched the room. Something had him ruffled. “What is it?”
“It’s him. It’s the sheriff.”
Gracie felt her whole body go still. Motionless the way only a vampire could be. No breath, no thought, no movement. She was still as a rock. Finally she whispered, “It can’t be.”
“It’s him, look. Back behind the pool table. Over in the corner.”
Gracie stepped sideways, trying to see above some of the taller humans in the room. She’d always been short, and seemed shorter still now that people had better diets and grew taller. She was a product of her time, that was for sure.
Suddenly she saw him. Sheriff Rhees, heavily bearded, sharing a beer with a couple of other guys.
How could this be possible? She’d seen him dead on the side of the road.
She wanted to march over there and rip his head from his neck. She wanted to stab him with shards of glass, over and over, and watch the blood cool on the floor beneath him. If it weren’t for Sheriff Rhees, she and Clive could’ve been happy. They could’ve settled down in a little log cabin somewhere like Rafe and the witch had done. They could have pleasured each other each night, and then in the daytime they could’ve worked in the sun as humans. Watched the sunrise together, and watched the sunset.
They could’ve lived in the light.
But Rhees had taken Clive, and then she’d chosen to get her revenge, and now—look at her. She was a demon.
Bo leaned over to whisper in her ear. “Blood is sweet, but revenge will be even sweeter.”
Two
Fraze was about sick of getting a taste of his own medicine. He’d been a matchmaker for Laura and Dristan and he knew he’d irritated the hell out of both of them before they’d finally figured out they were meant for each other. Now, though, Dristan and Laura were trying to get Fraze to find someone else to keep him company.
“I’m so over this,” he said.
Laura passed him another cosmo. “Drink up. Somehow we’ve got to get you to stop being so uptight.”
“I’m not uptight,” Fraze whined, taking a drink. “Just bored with this game.”
Dristan laughed.
“Shut up, d-bag,” Fraze said.
Dristan laughed again.
Fraze didn’t have the energy to deal with it. “Let’s play pool or something.”
“We’re actually gonna head out,” Dristan said.
Fraze tried not to look annoyed, but he knew he was failing. “So you drag me out here to hang with you two, and then you abandon me?”
“The idea is that you’re gonna meet someone special,” Laura said, her voice kind. “Hottie l
ike you, all alone.”
Fraze snorted. He did not have his brother’s movie star good looks. Mateo, another member of their pride, had said that Fraze had a face that might pass for radio. Mateo was right. Fraze wasn’t ugly, exactly, just not…oh, who the hell cared. He’d had a girlfriend. He’d hooked up with women. He was just too much of a monster inside to be able to trust himself with a human woman. As far as the women in his pride, he’d tried a fling with Nina once, just to see if there was something there. There hadn’t been chemistry with Nina, and the other women his age were taken. Well, except for Viviana, but they were just friends—there was no chemistry with her, either. Besides, risk the alpha’s wrath to hook up with her daughter? Nope, nope, and thrice nope.
So, he was stuck at Hart’s, waving goodbye to Laura and flipping off Dristan, and wondering what the hell he was going to do for the rest of the evening, because it sure as shit wouldn’t be a woman.
As the door closed after Laura and Dristan, a woman caught his eye. Not unusual—he wasn’t immune to beauty or the prospect of sex—he just didn’t let himself indulge in it. This woman, however, made him want to keep looking. Pale blond hair, fair skin, and blazing eyes so dark they were almost black. Red lips—red like sex and violence. A scar ran from her temple to her chin, but it was barely noticeable compared to the blazing intensity of her dark eyes.
He moved slightly in his seat, trying to keep his hard-on from getting out of control. He looked down at his drink. Should he do it? Should he go over there and talk to her? It would be futile. But…maybe it was time.
Time to what? This was stupid.
When he looked up again, just to give his eyes a treat, she was gone.
Well, that answered that.
A waitress came around to collect the empty glasses on Fraze’s table. “Want me to order anything else for ya?” she asked.
“Sure, thanks. I’ll take another cosmo.”
She didn’t even blink at the fact he liked girlie drinks, giving her points as a waitress. He’d leave her a huge tip.
The beautiful little blond woman was gone—he even stood up to see if she’d stepped behind some of the other patrons. She was so petite she’d probably be swallowed right up in a crowd. She wasn’t there.
Fraze drank his cosmo. Ordered another.
He might’ve had another. Pretty soon, the room was kind of blurry, and the bartender was doing last call. Fraze didn’t remember the night passing so fast. He’d been awake and watching people. A couple of women had even come up to say hello, and he vaguely recognized them from Belnedge High. Maybe they’d been a year above or below him, he couldn’t remember. He was polite and wished them well on their quest. Quest for what?
Shit, he should definitely not be driving tonight. He pulled up his phone and texted Viviana.
V, I need a ride.
She wrote back, On my way.
Fraze watched everyone finish their drinks and pay their bills. He felt bad for calling Viviana. She had a hard enough time getting out. He should have called someone else—but everyone else was paired up. Nina was living in Idaho now—she’d joined the Rock Creek Clan to be with her mate, Jameson. It was just Fraze and Viviana left in their little group of friends. He hadn’t wanted to call any of the others…he felt too pathetic. But V would understand.
She arrived wearing a pair of yoga pants and a zip-up hoodie, with her blond hair braided down her back. “Oh, Fraze.”
He looked up blearily. “What?”
“You’re totally smashed, honey. How many did you have?”
“Don’t know.”
She led him out to her car, and he waved at the helpful waitress who hadn’t made fun of his cosmos, and he waved at the bartender, who smiled prettily back at him, and he waved at the other people scattered on the porch who were either making out or waiting for rides. Viviana helped him into her car, and she buckled him up, and then she drove him home, and then he didn’t remember.
Three
Two hours until dawn. Gracie looked around the empty room where she sat sketching. This was supposed to be a kitchen, but no cooking would happen here. Clean lines, granite counter tops, a shining refrigerator—they didn’t need any of it, but Ana, it seemed, wanted the best. The large cabin was quiet at the moment. If Gracie didn’t know better, she might have thought some of the vampires were mourning the fact that Maslin would soon be meeting the dawn. Gracie figured it was another piece of evidence that she was too much of a demon to give a shit. She’d seen Maslin lie, cheat, steal, drink the blood of people who didn’t deserve to have so much taken. She’d seen him hurt people—vampire and human and shifter.
She didn’t mourn his loss, but she felt like maybe she should feel something. Looking deep inside herself, she tried to muster up even a hint of regret.
Nope.
Bo appeared at her side—she’d been so lost in thought she hadn’t even noticed him enter the room. His long hair was loose, hiding his torn ear.
“You coming to the cliff with me tonight?” he asked.
Gracie sighed. “I’m not ready yet.”
“‘Course you aren’t. Will you ever be, Gracie? Don’t you miss him?”
“Don’t tell me I don’t miss him, Bo. I miss him just as much as you do.”
He shrugged as if he didn’t believe her, and it made her want to hit something. Then he said, “I found out more about that guy. The sheriff.”
“He’s obviously not the sheriff,” Gracie said.
“Obviously not,” Bo agreed. “We both saw the sheriff dead and cold by the side of the road.”
Gracie waited for Bo to say his piece. He’d been like a brother to her since she met Clive. Clive and Bo had shown up on horseback, ready to steal something from her uncle. They’d found sixteen-year-old Gracie standing in front of the barn, holding a rifle and waiting to shoot them dead. They’d turned around and left.
Tired of her uncle’s abuse, Gracie had followed them, running barefoot after them for two miles before they finally stopped. They’d been on horseback. “You are one fast little girl,” Clive had said, smiling down at her. His teeth had been so white against his tanned face, and his smile so beautiful, Gracie had fallen in love right then.
“I’m no little girl,” she’d said. “I’m a woman.”
And she’d proven it to him that night, and nearly every other night after.
Now Bo said, “Rhees must have had kids. Kids we didn’t know about, with a wife somewhere else. Either his wife was a shifter, or one of his kids must’ve had a mating with a shifter. Because that guy we saw in the bar—he’s a shifter. He’s one of them.”
Gracie turned to stare at Bo. “He’s a shifter.”
“That’s what I said, Gracie Jane. Shifter through and through. He’s one of the Corona Pride lions.”
“Well, ain’t that interesting,” Gracie said. “Ana’s goals of taking down the Corona Pride might just align with ours.”
“Exactly,” Bo said.
Still, a part of her didn’t feel quite right about the whole thing. That man with the beard, the one who looked like Sheriff Rhees—he hadn’t had any part in Gracie’s misery. He was just some random descendant who knew nothing about the sheriff who’d killed Clive and ruined Gracie’s life. She didn’t like the thought of taking her revenge out on him.
“Maybe it’s not such a good idea,” she said.
Bo turned, startled. His fangs gleamed in the moonlight streaming through the big kitchen window next to them. “What the hell you talkin’ about, Gracie?”
“Just…well, this guy isn’t Sheriff Rhees. There is no Sheriff Rhees. This guy had nothing to do with what happened to Clive.”
“But we swore revenge,” Bo said. “We shook on it in blood and we vowed that we’d avenge Clive, whether in this lifetime or the next.”
“You’re right,” Gracie said. So reasonable. So calculating. She knew she was that, too. But that oath she’d made was a long time ago. Another life. Before she became a demon.<
br />
Four
Fraze woke up hating the world and hating himself and hating his damn head that wouldn’t stop pounding.
Groaning, he rolled over carefully and reached for his phone to find out what time it was.
His hand made contact with the bare surface of his nightstand. No phone.
“Shit,” he said, standing up. He had to work at the Channings’ house later on, adding fresh gravel to the borders of their flower beds. He loved the physical labor of landscaping, but this was going to suck today. He didn’t usually drink to excess. The last time he could remember doing that was in high school. Usually he was the responsible one.
Look where that got him.
Faint humming reached his ears, and he stopped in place. Had he brought a woman home after all? He sniffed the air. Nah, it was just Viviana.
“V?” he called, padding into the kitchen.
“Dude,” she said, waving her hand in front of him. “Put some pants on.”
“Nothing you haven’t seen before,” he said. “You cooking for me?”
“Only if you put on pants.”
Shrugging, he went back into his bedroom, found a pair of sweats, and pulled them on. As shifters, they were naked before and after changes into their lions, so they’d been seeing each other naked for years. But Viviana didn’t usually hang out with everyone else, so she was a little more modest.
He came back into the kitchen. “Anything I can help with?”
“Nope, I just finished.” With a flourish, Viviana turned around and passed him a plate. He took it to the rickety little card table he used for a dining table and sat down. Viviana fixed herself a plate and came to sit across from him.
“Are you gonna get in trouble, being here?” he asked.
“Maybe.”
“Shit, I’m sorry, V. I should’ve called Dristan. I just—he was already home with Laura and I felt—”
“Pathetic, I know.” Viviana smirked. “You mentioned it a few hundred times as we drove back here from Hart’s.”
“I did?” Fraze groaned. “I babbled, didn’t I?”
“That you did,” Viviana said.