by Susan Harris
Derek loosened the hold he had on the bond between himself and Ever.
Derek?
Tell Sarge I’ve gotten myself into a little trouble. Tell him to call Melanie for an explanation. I love you.
Derek!
He heard her scream his name in his head as he clamped the bond shut again, her voice still ringing in his ears. Slowly rising to his full height, Derek never once took his fingers off his gun.
“So, since two of you had trouble taking me down last time, you thought three would be better?”
The trio growled but remained standing where they were.
“What are you waiting for? Come get me. Or do you not think ye can take me?”
“They are waiting for my command, Derek,” a voice said from behind him at the same time he felt the cold press of metal against the back of his head.
Derek didn’t recognize the scent. Staying still as the man removed his weapon, Derek prayed for Ricky not to round the corner right now.
“The one job you all had was to disarm him. You couldn’t even get that right,” he said, scolding the men, who dropped their gazes. They considered him alpha, but he wasn’t, not even close. Derek knew when he scented an alpha. This werewolf was dominant, but not as much as he was.
“On your knees, Doyle.”
“Go fuck yourself.”
The man cold-cocked him on the back of the head, and his knees hit the concrete hard. He bit back a curse and tried to get up again. The trio rushed forward, shoving him back down. He growled then, letting his animal side take the lead. He thrashed in their grasp as the man who wanted him dead stepped into the light.
The shadows slipped off his features, and Derek came face to face with a ghost from his nightmares. He blinked a couple of times before he spoke.
“You can’t be real. I killed you. I saw them burn your body.”
“Just call me the fucking grim reaper, Doyle. I’m here to collect on your sins.”
Derek grunted as something pricked the skin in his neck.
“I doubled the dose this time. I learn from my mistakes. Let’s see if you will. Drag him to the van.”
His vision blurred as he felt himself being lifted off his feet. But at that moment, Derek didn’t care. The blood that had soaked his nightmares for almost a century now bled into reality. The last lucid thought he had before the drugs kicked his ass was of remembering the feeling of the ghost’s heart in his hand as he ripped it from his chest.
On any other night, the slight chill in the air, the scent of rain on the horizon accompanied by the almost-navy sky, might have been enough to calm the storm that brewed inside of her. But the quietness of her companion, the chastising manner in which he had spoken to her, and her blatant slip on her control, tossed around in her head like bullets aiming for a target.
Leaping across the rooftops, Caitlyn felt sluggish while Donnie kept a steady pace ahead of her. He did not understand. He couldn’t. Donnie thought she kept him at arm’s length because she was still in love with the monster who had given her a second life. But love was not the reason Caitlyn kept him at bay, it was fear—a fear so hideous that sometimes it paralyzed her.
The Munster alpha had not left the city after his interview with P.I.T. Instead, he had gone to an exclusive establishment on the cusp of the supernatural quarter. Situated at the opposite end of the street from Chester’s bar, Gévaudan’s occupied a building that had once been a cinema. Completely ripped apart and rebuilt, it was now the flashy, members-only club for werewolves.
Caitlyn had found the name tacky, but then again, as a mere babe, she’d heard stories spun by her father of the Beast of Gévaudan. Caitlyn had since grown up and learned the hard way that sometimes monsters disguised themselves as knights on white horses.
Donnie paused atop the roof of a fast food restaurant with a perfect view of Gévaudan’s. The weather was on their side this eve, allowing them to stay downwind so the weres would not scent them. Caitlyn swept out her duster, crouching down next to Donnie. He instantly tensed, and Caitlyn stifled a snarl.
Arthur’s BMW slowed down at the curb. The driver jumped out and held open the door, allowing Arthur to slip out. The alpha buttoned up his suit jacket, then nodded to his driver. Caitlyn honed her vision and spied someone still in the back of the car. They didn’t make to get out as Arthur sauntered straight into the club. His BMW took off, leaving Caitlyn to wonder why Arthur had gone alone into the club.
Her eyes ran over Donnie. If anyone were to spy the man at this moment, Caitlyn was certain that they would assume he were made of stone. Still and silent, he appeared to her as he always had—perfectly carved marble that would bring a swarm of admirers just to stand and watch him, as if he were one of Michelangelo’s works of art.
The new distance between them felt, to her, as if he had taken a stake and pierced her heart with it. Caitlyn had become accustomed to having him around. She knew she had driven him to this, and she could not blame him for his actions. Yet, there was still quite a lot he did not understand, and if Caitlyn had her way, there was a lot he would never find out about.
“Can you stop staring at me and concentrate on the job at hand?” The warning in his voice was evident.
“I was simply wondering if it was safe to broach the subject of us.”
“There is no us. That’s the fucking problem, isn’t it?”
Caitlyn let go of an exasperated sigh. He wasn’t wrong, her Donnie. She wanted to tell him that maybe one day, when she was strong enough—when she gathered up enough courage to travel back to her homeland and behead him—then maybe she could embrace the feelings that cracked through the wall she had encased her heart in whenever Donnie was near.
“There is no need for us to make our disagreement awkward for everyone else. We have to work together. Can we not be civilized about things?” Caitlyn asked.
“It’s not a disagreement, Caitlyn. It feels like a feckin’ breakup, and at the moment—since that kiss—I can’t go back. I can’t shove shit back down into a box and say, ‘Hey, let’s forget what happened and continue on as we were.’”
She had no answer for him, so she settled for being honest; as honest as she could, at least.
“I’m sorry I hurt you, Donnie. I would not have done so if I had been able to avoid it,” she whispered, dragging her eyes from him to glance over at the club. “But it is necessary, for now, to keep everyone at arm’s length. I do not wish for anyone to be hurt for a stupid reason, like having feelings for me. You do not understand, Donnie; there is a darkness in me that would consume those I… those I…” she stammered, trying to find the words. “…care for, if it was allowed.”
He cocked his head to look at her, and once again those eyes that always seemed to look right into her soul unsettled her. “We all have darkness in us, Cait. Don’t hide behind it.”
“That is true, Donnie, that we all carry a little darkness in us. But, you merely adopted the darkness. I was born into it. I was baptized in blood and death. And I graduated to depths of evil that I feel—if you saw that side of me, the real side of me—would change the way you look at me forever.”
She shuddered, trying to block out unwanted memories and feelings.
Donnie opened his mouth to speak when Arthur strode out of the club, a leggy blonde practically glued to him. She pushed him up against the wall, and the alpha chuckled before taking the woman’s mouth in a passionate kiss.
“Am I the only one thinking she looks a little like…?”
“Ever?” she finished for him. “No, you are not. Arthur is a smart man. He knows someone will be tailing him, and he wants Derek to know he is interested in Ever.”
They fell silent as the Munster alpha brazenly hoisted up the woman, who wrapped her legs around his waist, and twisted them so her back was pressed against the wall. Caitlyn averted her eyes, not because she was uncomfortable, but because such intimacy was out of her reach.
The wind shifted suddenly, alarm bells ringing
in her ears. “Do you smell that?” Caitlyn asked Donnie.
The big man darted to his feet. “Arthur!” he yelled, the Munster alpha’s head snapping in their direction. “Bomb!”
Arthur moved with speed only a were could possess and was across the bridge in seconds. The explosion ripped through Gévuadaun’s, the force of the blow flinging Caitlyn and Donnie back. Shrapnel pierced her skin, and she hissed; but she would heal. Screams of horror sounded below, wails of sirens echoing in the distance. Bright orange flames danced in the night sky as smoke bellowed upwards.
“Are you hurt?” Donnie grunted.
Dismissing him with the wave of her hand, she said, “I am fine. You?”
“Pretty tired of almost getting blown up. Again,” he snorted.
For a moment, she paused. This sounded normal. Maybe they might be fine.
“I would assume,” she started, “that Arthur is as much a victim in this as Derek.”
“Maybe someone wants to get rid of the two most powerful werewolves in Munster?”
“I agree.”
“I’ll phone it in. Go check on Arthur.”
Caitlyn bristled, not used to taking orders from Donnie, but she would do as asked while Donnie made his call.
Standing on the edge of the building, her duster fluttered in the wind as she surveyed the chaos below.
“You look like Kate Beckinsale in Underworld. I wish I had a camera.”
Caitlyn did not reply, simply dropped off the roof. The wind spun around her as she fell. The rush, the adrenaline that spiked inside her was addictive. In mere seconds, her heeled boots connected with concrete, and she placed a hand in front of her to steady herself. The crowd gathering around the blast site gawped at her. Carefully, Caitlyn rose to her full height and flashed her badge.
She stalked forward toward Arthur, but she could feel the weight of Donnie’s gaze as she moved. Later, later… time for that later…
Arthur comforted the hysterical woman who was sobbing uncontrollably in his arms. He uttered soothing words, his eyes locking with Caitlyn’s. He beckoned another wolf over and passed on the babysitting duty to him before walking away with Caitlyn. When they were far enough out of earshot, Arthur turned to Caitlyn and folded his arms across his chest.
“It appears I owe you and your paramour a debt. Does this not sway you from thinking I’m involved in Derek’s predicament?”
Caitlyn shoved her hands into the pockets of her duster and rocked back on the heels of her feet. “Or that you exited at an opportune time to avoid the full force of the blast. Where you were, the burns would have healed in days.”
“I can assure you, Agent Hardi, that I would not intentionally harm myself, or my own people for that matter, just to try and fuse an alibi together. I lost packmates tonight. I can only be grateful it was a weekday night and the death toll was not much higher.”
She felt Donnie’s presence as he sidled up to her. His mouth was pulled into a tight grimace, and his hands were balled into fists.
“What is it?”
“Derek’s been taken. Ambushed outside the hotel. Ricky found needles at the scene. They must have drugged him.”
“Let’s go.”
“Wait!” Arthur called after them. “What about the threat on my life?”
Caitlyn spun on her heels. For a brief moment, the alpha of Munster looked genuinely frightened, a wave of disgust wafting over him at his cowardice. Caitlyn let a tiny spark of darkness bleed into her eyes. Her fangs elongated, and she snarled, “After tonight, that won’t be your concern. He’ll be dead.”
She stalked off, Donnie by her side. Using her vampire speed, she zipped through the crowds, into the main town, and headed out for the station. The hunger burned in her veins as she ran; her injuries had already begun to heal when they stopped outside the station.
Leaving Donnie behind, she went down the stairs into the underground sleeping area. Going to the fridge, she pulled out a bottle of blood. Yanking off the lid, she tipped it back down her throat, the glorious taste sating her and disgusting her all at one. Draining the bottle, she pulled another from the fridge, tossing it at Donnie as he came down the steps.
She closed the fridge with the heel of her boot, headed to her room, stripping off her duster and deliberately laying it down across a chair. She removed her smoke-laced top and threw on another. When she came back into the kitchen, Donnie had already left.
She cursed in her mother tongue. She was naïve to think things had settled between them.
Steeling herself against her thoughts, Caitlyn headed for the squad room. Slipping inside, she inclined her head to Sarge and leaned against the wall.
“There are at least seventeen ways that the whole thing could have gone better. Literally, like, I’m counting them right now. The moron had to play the fucking hero!”
A smile tugged a little on her lips. Always such colourful language from the warlock.
She noticed Ever sitting in the corner, a ghastly shade of white and tears staining her cheeks. While the rest of the team bickered over the best course of action, Caitlyn slid over to Ever, sitting at Derek’s desk.
The wolf’s mate lifted her head and held Caitlyn’s gaze. “They keep telling me that he’ll be okay, but they’re just telling me what I want to hear. You won’t. Will he be okay?”
Yes, Ever had her pegged. Caitlyn would not lie to her. So, she told the woman exactly what she thought. “That stubborn wolf fought to come back from the jaws of death. For you. Derek will do everything in his power to get back to you.”
“Thank you.”
“Il n'ya a qu'un bonheur dans la vie, c'est d’aimer et d'etre aimé.”
The old saying flew off her tongue. Caitlyn tried not to speak her native tongue more times than not, but Ever needed something to hold onto. She felt the eyes of her team watching her.
“There is only one happiness in life, to love and be loved. Derek knows what he found with you. It will keep him alive. Some of us are not fortunate enough to have that.”
Ever’s lips moved to speak, but Caitlyn stepped away, feeling as if her skin had been ripped apart and exposed. She would ask Donnie for time… ask him for patience. Closing her eyes, her mind unlocked memories she did not want to think about.
Her heels clicked as Caitlyn made her way through the underground cavern to his throne room. He was not a king by blood, but he was one of few who could claim the title. Anticipation clawed at her. She willed her courage to hold as she strode with purpose into the room, ignoring the crowd of worshipers, and dropped on one knee in front of her maker.
She lifted her head to peer up at him. Breathtakingly beautiful, this man, this monster who lured men and woman to his side with a mere glance. When she first met him, she had felt the urge to paint the town in blood for him, and she had.
“Rise, my love. What brings you to request such a meeting with me?”
“My King, I wish to ask a favour.”
His black eyes watched her like a spider watched a fly in its web. “A favour? For my favourite child… of course. What favour do you wish?”
Her legs wobbled as she rose. She snapped her spine straight and held the gaze of the monster. “I wish for you to release me from your service. I want to be free of you. I want to forge my own path out in the world, not one dictated by you. I wish to find love and myself. I tire of the endless killing, the blood spilled for a crown that is not yours to begin with.”
He blinked in surprise and then burst into an amused chuckle. Floating up out of his throne, he stalked down the steps to stand in front of her.
Caitlyn jutted out her chin as his hand snaked around her throat. He squeezed, hard, but she refused to show him fear.
“So you, my pet, want to leave us, your family. To find love? Is the love I give you not enough? Is the life I gave you not enough?” His voice dropped an octave, low and dangerous.
“What you give us is blind infatuation, not love,” Caitlyn rebuked. “I wish to be so
meone’s everything, not to be a pawn in this never-ending pissing contest.”
The slap burned, cracking hard enough to rebound off the stone walls. She tasted blood on her lips. He captured her mouth in his, licking at the blood, but she did not respond.
“I am the only love you need, my Caitlyn. My little lover who is created of the same darkness as I. If you ever take another man as your own—and I don’t mean to fuck. I mean, if you every find a man that you love with every fibre of yourself—I will end him. I will rip his heart from his chest in front of you and make you eat it. Do you understand? Say it… tell me that you are mine.”
She was beaten. For now.
Soon, she would be strong enough to fight her way out. Soon, she would have freedom. But Caitlyn understood with all certainty she could never love another, because this false king would carry out his promise.
His hand slipped under her blouse and cupped her breast. She shuddered, closing off her emotions as her vampire king sank his fangs into her neck. Her body reacted, but her mind drifted to her safe place.
“Caitlyn.”
Again, his voice saved her from him. She lifted her lashes, letting her cool mask return to her face. “I’m sorry. What were you saying?”
“Your phone’s ringing.”
“Ah.” She pulled it from her pocket. “Oui.”
“Any news on Derek?”
“Not yet, Melanie.”
A sad sigh sounded at the end of the phone. “I could come in and help. I’ll try to be better this time.”
It was Caitlyn’s turn to sigh. “It is not about being better. We just need to help you dampen your reactions before you can take your place with us again. Now, why the phone call?”
“Derek asked me if I could do a back trace on a live stream that was sent to Agent Gober’s phone. It took ages,” Melanie said, drawing out the word in long syllables. “Whoever sent the video looped it through various proxies in different countries. But, I got a hit on a local spot here in Cork. It’s an old go-cart centre in Little Island. I’ll keep digging, but from the looks of it, that’s where the video pinged first.”