by Rye Brewer
I hoped Jonah Bourke didn’t plan on being a hero. He might make things a lot more dangerous.
“You’ll find out when you get there.” He motioned with his hand for me to hurry up.
I gave him a fake smile, tossed my hair back. “We’ve already spent so much time here. I was starting to feel at home.”
“Stop with the jokes.” The head werewolf scanned Jonah up and down, giving him the once over. “Tie him up,” he said, pointing to Jonah.
“With what?” one of the other two asked.
“How am I supposed to know? Find something. There has to be something around here you can use.”
I could tell from his tone of voice he was tired of working with two numbskulls. Who could blame him? I waited until they were well into looking for a length of rope—did they really think that would be any use against a vampire?—before turning to the leader.
His face was surprisingly unmarked for a werewolf. Most werewolves bore scars from fighting each other or battling other types. He was probably too strong for any of his enemies to have a chance in a fight.
His barrel chest, massive arms, and strong legs spoke of intense power, as intense as the stench coming from him. Didn’t he know how bad he smelled? It could have been the filthy, ragged clothing or the matted hair all along his chest, arms, and head. I willed myself to put that aside and focus on getting the jump on him. He’d never been up against me, and what he possessed in strength, he lacked in speed.
I cast a glance to where the other pair attempted to tie Jonah to the wooden post. I nodded just enough for him to notice, and he moved his head just the fraction of an inch to show he understood. We didn’t know each other, yet we’d have to rely on each other to get out of here. I took a deep breath, letting it out in a long, slow stream. All of my senses were focused. It was all about the fight now.
It happened fast after that. While the lead werewolf was busy watching his two partners clumsily tying Jonah to the post, I reached into the sheath I’d sewn to the inside of my boots, withdrew two blades and slid one across his thick, hairy chest. He shrieked as though I’d burned him, because I had. The silver. I heard skin sizzle, smelled burning hair.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the struggle between Jonah and his two captors while I moved my other arm in a quick right-left motion. My blade hissed through the air, coming close to his throat. He threw up an arm to block me, and again he let out a cry of pain as I sliced through the skin, hair, and muscle of his forearm.
I leapt out of the way before a drop of his blood could hit me—it might only have been filthy werewolf blood, but it was blood, and I only had so much power against its pull on me. From Jonah’s corner of the room, I heard bone crunch, followed quickly by a groan of pain.
“Come on!” I bellowed, not caring whether I’d killed the werewolves or not.
It was better for Jonah not to know who I was, anyway. He was still my target. If he saw how skilled I was with a blade, I’d be done for. I slid the knives into their sheaths as I ran for the door, Jonah on my heels. We burst outside, up the steps, then through the maze of alleys leading back to the busy streets of Midtown.
Only when we reached The Bank did I take the time to rest for a moment, leaning against a brick wall. Jonah joined me, his back to the cool bricks, his face tilted upward toward the sky. I couldn’t help admiring him in the moonlight. He was just that beautiful.
“Whew. Thanks.” He was only slightly winded.
He was grateful to me, though I wasn’t sure why. I was the one who got us into trouble by not paying attention to who was tracking me. I could see gratitude and admiration on his face as he looked down at me.
“Thanks for the diversion,” he said again. “Who are you?”
“It doesn’t matter. I got us out of there, didn’t I?”
“Yes, and you got me into a lot of trouble. I’d like to know who you are. The least you can do is tell me who I went to all the trouble for.”
I could have killed him right then and there, just like I was originally going to. A quick dip into my boot, a swift thrust, the smell of his flesh burning, his breathing stopping.
Damn me.
I couldn’t.
It wouldn’t have been hard—he trusted me. We had bonded, in a way. We’d been through something together. His defenses were totally down. I wouldn’t have to answer any pressing questions.
So, why couldn’t I do it? Why? I looked into his eyes. There was trust there, and something else. Something that stirred me inside. A part of me I didn’t know existed. I’d never felt this way, ever.
Then another pair of eyes flashed before me.
Sara’s.
The way she’d pleaded with me. The torture she’d gone through. The way she’d screamed then whimpered when she no longer had the strength to scream. She’d be deprived of blood if I didn’t fulfill my job for Marcus. He might even move her and never tell me where. I’d spend the rest of my sister’s sentence not knowing where she was, never being able to see her. What special hell would that be?
Still, even when faced with my sister’s torment, I couldn’t bring myself to take my blade from my boot. He might not even know I had it—he’d been busy fighting off his own werewolves when I’d slashed mine. It would be so easy. So easy.
“It’s better that you don’t know,” I whispered, cursing myself. What a time to feel conflicted.
“But I want to know. We just—”
“I know what we just, but it was a random accident. We were both in the wrong place at the wrong time. Let’s just leave it at that.” Then, without another word, I turned and fled.
He could have followed if he’d wanted to—I had seen him in action, and he was just as fast as me. It wouldn’t be like outrunning a sluggish human.
Only he didn’t follow. His scent faded the farther away I ran. That was good. It was good he wasn’t anywhere around me, since when he was, I couldn’t decide if I should kiss him or kill him.
5
Anissa
I spent two days after that near-miss avoiding Marcus like it was a full-time job or a calling. I did anything I could to steer clear of his wing of the mansion. It wasn’t difficult, really. And it wasn’t like he ever deigned to come to my side, the common side. That didn’t stop me from wondering when he’d send someone for me.
“How was your weekend?” Poor Raze, clueless as always. He was waiting for me outside my room on Monday morning to walk me to class.
One of the few things in my life I could count on.
“Oh, you know. Pretty boring stuff.”
Yeah, you know, stalking a target, getting close to killing him, then being kidnapped by a trio of werewolves. Escaping by the skin of my teeth. Stalking my target ever since.
I hadn’t been able to keep from following Jonah around on Sunday night. Maybe because I knew I needed to kill him. Just because I’d failed the first time didn’t mean I could give up. Marcus wouldn’t accept that. I had lost track of the number of times I’d kicked myself since Saturday night. He’d been right there! For the taking! And I’d let him slip through my fingers.
What a fool.
It would be even harder to catch him after Saturday, too. He’d be on his guard for a few days, remembering how it had felt to be overpowered by werewolves.
“I looked for you yesterday, but you weren’t in your room.”
I winced. “I had something to take care of.” Sometimes I wished he wasn’t such a close friend.
There was a reason I stuck to my own company for the most part.
“Right.” He sighed. “I hope you’re being careful, is all.”
You have no idea. “I know what I’m doing. Believe me.”
“Sometimes, I don’t think you do.” His voice was terse, his expression serious.
“You don’t know much about it.” I was getting irritated. I had my limits, too, even with best friends. And my nerves were frazzled as the clock was ticking and I was very much behind on my task
for Marcus.
“Because you won’t tell me.” Now, he sounded peevish.
“Maybe there’s a reason for that, Raze. And before you get mad at me, think about it. Maybe I’m trying to keep you safe.”
“Safe?” He shook his head. “You’re trying to keep me in the dark.”
“That way nobody can question you. And if they do, you won’t have to lie.”
We were talking about two completely different things, except he didn’t know it. He still thought my solitary crime was illicit romance. If only it were that simple.
“I should be the one protecting you, not the other way around.” He crossed his arms over his chest, his brow furrowed.
Something in his words struck a chord in me. A chord of guilt. “Raze, I know you want to keep me safe. That means a lot to me. But there are certain things I just have to do on my own. One day you’ll understand.”
“What a joke.” He left it there.
As much as I wanted to make him understand, I knew there was no way. I had to sit through an astronomy class that morning, feeling the waves of cold disappointment pouring off him. I could almost feel his hurt. I wished I could make it better. Sometimes, I just wanted to tell the truth. I wanted somebody to know. Secrets were too heavy to carry alone.
Turning my head to the side, I spotted Izzy. She was just as happy as could be, seated in the center of her new clique. In her tight, black overalls, thin white T-shirt and black ankle boots, she was the picture of sophistication. So what if the overall trend had just come back around from over twenty years ago? And so what if she’d been born around the time of the Gibson girl’s rise to fame? Funny how time affected us.
We were still, at heart, in some ways, as young as we’d been when we’d been turned. She tossed her mane of curly black hair over one shoulder and grinned at me from across the room. Her violet eyes sparkled. I could tell how happy she was, how elated she was to finally feel accepted and popular. I couldn’t help but feel glad for her.
That gladness didn’t last long when I caught Will’s eye. He was like a carbon copy of his father, right down to the eyes that bored holes into me. Had Marcus told him about my side jobs?
No. Impossible.
So, why did he look at me with such familiarity? It sent a chill throughout my already cold body. I turned back to the front of the room, zipping my sweatshirt and pulling up the hood. I didn’t want him to study at me anymore.
That night was another stalking night. I would have to move from stalking to assassinating, and fast. The meeting of the league was to take place on Friday, which meant I had four nights left in which to fulfill my task. The clock was ticking.
There was another aspect of my hunt that reminded me to hurry up and get it over with. I could feel somebody or something watching me as I slid in and out of crowds on the busy streets. No matter what I did, I couldn’t shake the weight of eyes on me.
Watching, waiting.
The same werewolves as before? Maybe. If so, they would be out for blood this time. Especially the leader, who I should have killed but was in too big a hurry to waste time on. And I hadn’t wanted Jonah to see me do it, either. The less time I spent in the city, exposed, the better.
It seemed the Bourkes were a clan who liked routine. Every night, it was the same thing: go to a restaurant to feed. Usually The Bank. Then go from one club to another and party for hours. The girl, Jonah’s sister, seemed like the one leading them from place to place. I could tell one of the brothers—the one who wasn’t Jonah’s twin—liked the ladies. And they liked him. I could see why, since he was almost as handsome as Jonah. Just not quite. There was nobody like Jonah, not even his twin.
What was it about Jonah? He had a certain something I couldn’t put my finger on. Something about him reminded me of Marcus in a way. Strength, power, control. But something else, too. Magnetism. Marcus didn’t have that. He had to force people to do his bidding. I doubted Jonah would ever have to try so hard.
They’d been in the third club for a long time. Fang was the name of the that one. Another clever name. I waited across the street for them to leave. I wished just once to catch him alone. I needed him outside the protection of his siblings.
If he hadn’t already seen me, if he wouldn’t have given me away, I might have disguised myself as another girl and gone inside. Except he knew me—at least, by sight. He might try to introduce me or tell one of his siblings or friends he recognized me. I wasn’t much of a club girl, anyway.
I imagined dancing with Jonah. Our bodies moving together. Why did he have to be so hot? It only complicated things when I fantasized about what it would be like to get close to him on the dance floor.
I was so deep in my fantasy I didn’t hear a footstep behind me until it was too late to react. A hood slid over my head, and I saw no more. A blow to the back of my skull dazed me. I closed my eyes and slid into semi-consciousness.
Crap.
What had I stumbled into this time?
When I came to, I was sitting in a chair. I could feel the hard wood under my butt and behind my back where my hands were tied. I wriggled just enough to be clear how tightly I was bound. Pretty darned tight. This hadn’t been done by human hands.
The werewolves again? I sniffed the air. No. Even under a hood, I was sure I would have been able to smell them. That terrible, pungent smell that seemed to sear the hairs inside my nose. It wasn’t werewolves. Who, then?
“She’s awake.”
I sat bolt upright. Yes, I was awake. And I wasn’t alone. I focused my hearing, determined to find out as much as I could about where I was. Dripping water. Not a lot, but enough for me to notice. The scurrying of rats. Oh, goody. I didn’t hear any noise coming from outside, so they’d taken me far from the heart of the city. How far? Where was I in relation to my home?
The shuffling of feet. How many of them were there?
One of them got up close to me and bellowed in my face. “Why did you kidnap Jonah Bourke?”
I recoiled but couldn’t move far since I was so tightly tied up. “Kidnap? I didn’t kidnap him!”
That made no sense. Unless they were talking about when we were both kidnapped. I hadn’t had anything to do with that. But the less I said, the better.
“Why are you stalking him, then? What business do you have with him?”
I wouldn’t tell them that, either. My head moved back and forth, trailing the voices as they moved around me. There were two, maybe three. All of them full of hate and spite. I could feel it coming at me in waves. They wanted to kill me.
They wanted to even more when I didn’t answer. I wouldn’t give them what they wanted. No way. I bit my tongue to keep myself quiet.
“Forget it.” A female. I tuned my ears to her. “She thinks she’s strong. We’ll see about that.”
“What do you want to do to her?”
Then, a noise. I felt them jump. I jumped, too. It was the slamming of a door.
“What do you guys think you’re doing?”
I knew that voice. I’d heard it in my head for days. Everything came together in a single split second as soon as I heard him. Then, footsteps. The hood disappeared, pulled roughly from my head. I blinked a few times to adjust my eyes, though the room was nearly as dark as it had been under the hood.
I looked into the eyes of Jonah Bourke.
6
Jonah
Her? The silver-white haired girl? She was the last creature I’d expected to see under that hood. How had they found her? I didn’t even know who she was or where she lived, but they’d found her. Why?
She glared at me, defiant.
“What is this? Why did you do this to her?” I glanced from one of them to another.
They wore identical expressions of guilt.
“How did you find us?” Philippa asked.
“I followed you. What do you think? And where did you come up with the idea of using this place?” I studied the abandoned mansion.
It had been beauti
ful once. Very beautiful. Twenty years of emptiness had ruined it, though.
I looked from my sister to my brothers. “No, don’t even answer that question. Let’s back up. Why did you do this to her?” I glanced down to where she sat tied to a chair. I still didn’t know her name or anything else about her. I simply knew I’d been wanting to see her again ever since Saturday night. I hadn’t been able to forget her. And not just because of what we’d been through.
She seemed just as confused as I felt. I let my gaze roam over her, up and down, to see if they’d hurt her. She had a bump on the back of her head, under her nearly white hair.
“Did they hurt you?”
“Why are you asking her this? Why do you even care?” Philippa crossed her arms, glaring at me.
“Why do you care so much? You don’t even know who she is!” I was defiant and defensive, and, for some reason, I wanted to come to her defense. That part was a mystery to me.
“Neither do you, brother.” Scott took me by the arm, and the three of them walked to the other side of the room with me in the middle.
It had been the ballroom at one time, the third floor of the house. One large room with floor-to-ceiling windows on all sides. Only, today, those windows had been boarded up, the glory days of this grandiose building long gone.
“She’s been following you for days,” Scott hissed once we were away from her.
I tilted my head, furrowed my brow. “She has?”
Gage nodded, glancing her way. “Since before those werewolves got you, and since then, too.”
“I noticed her on Friday night,” Philippa admitted. “I didn’t think anything of it, but when you disappeared on Saturday, I was sure she had something to do with it.”
“But she saved me that night. I was the one who should have stayed away from her, not the other way around, and they would have killed me if she hadn’t gotten us out of it.”