I tensed as the pair recognized Sky with venomous looks. Last year, she’d staked Chase on the retreat grounds, forcing Gabriella to transport him to safety. No doubt they wanted a reckoning. Wounding one of the pair was like wounding them both. As he approached Sky, I slipped to the edge of my seat, leaning toward them on the balls of my feet, ready to spring into action. He planted an exaggerated, wet kiss on her cheek.
“Hey, wolfie,” he whispered, his lips spreading into a cold smile.
She regarded him defiantly as her hand slipped into her purse. Her lips parted, no doubt to unleash a snarky comment, but Steven intervened, pushing Chase into a wall and holding a knife to his throat. The vampire’s eyes drifted to the knife as if it were a harmless amusement.
I glanced between the other vamps, gauging their reaction, but they seemed pleased. Up to now, they had done everything they could to elicit a reaction, and Steven had obliged.
“Steven,” Sebastian snapped. Steven glared at Chase, emphasizing his point, then reluctantly withdrew the knife and took his place next to Sky.
“If you can’t control him, then I will,” Sebastian warned Demetrius.
“Chase,” he said casually.
“Sorry, I was just trying to greet my old friend. How does one greet the half-pups?” he asked, absorbing Sky’s glower with a grin. “Gabriella, isn’t she cute?” he added as the duo took seats directly across from Sky and Steven. “She’s like a little poodle. All bark and no bite.”
I gave them a warning look, but the vamps were exclusively focused on Sky. I considered forcibly changing seats with Steven, but that would show weakness. Despite his young age, he was an accomplished vampire killer, and I knew he would protect her at all costs, but that didn’t change my anger at Sky for deliberately putting herself in a risky position, away from me. I gave Demetrius a warning glare, which only fueled his amusement.
Chris ignored the conflict entirely, eager to get down to business as she sat across from me, next to Demetrius. Surprisingly, Michaela allowed this breach of protocol without so much as an irritable glance, but I knew better. Even if she approved of using Chris to agitate me, Michaela would never accept one of Demetrius’s lovers taking her place at his side.
Michaela sat next to Chris, gesturing for Quell to join her.
“Sorry about our tardiness,” Demetrius said, provocatively resting his palm over Chris’s thigh as he regarded me.
“I would expect nothing less,” Sebastian answered. “It’s shocking you didn’t have your own score playing during your entrance.”
I smiled, appreciating his sarcasm.
“Oh, the dog has a sense of humor. This evening should be quite entertaining.”
“Call me a dog again and I’ll show you just how humorous I can be,” Sebastian said politely, in stark contrast to the warning amber flashing across his pupils.
“Gentlemen,” Chris said soothingly, “I thought we were going to play nice. Please do so.” She gave Sebastian a welcoming smile. “Thank you so much for agreeing to meet with Demetrius.”
I noticed that Quell and Sky were staring at each other, both intensely curious in their own way. Michaela noticed as well. Neither of us were pleased.
Demetrius leaned back in his chair, releasing Chris. “Tell me, Sebastian, what you have done that has caused this unholy attack on our families?”
“I would be remiss if I didn’t inquire the same thing of you. What careless, self-indulgent thing did you or your Seethe do”—he turned to Chase—“that has angered someone to this extent that they have misdirected their wrath?”
As the bickering and posturing continued, I realized that Sky and Michaela were engaged in a discussion regarding the Lost One, who endured his Mistress’s attention with a practiced vacant expression, like an obedient dog called to heel.
“He is indeed one of my best creations,” she boasted, appraising him appreciatively.
“Since the only thing you did was chomp on him until he was nearly dead and then give him a dab of blood afterward,” Sky quipped, “shouldn’t I render compliments to his parents?”
The table went quiet as all eyes turned to Michaela, who had committed unspeakable horrors for significantly less provocation. I pushed my chair back slightly and shifted my weight onto my toes. Steven tensed as well, prepared to defend Sky from Michaela. Chase and Gabriella, waiting for their Mistress’s example, would be mine. The entire room teetered on the edge of violence until Michaela threw her head back and laughed—an honest, almost gentle sound that caught everyone by surprise.
“His eyes,” Sky said, seemingly oblivious to the war she had nearly started. “They are … disconcerting. Why are they so green? In fact, why are they green at all?”
Demetrius chuckled. The other vamps joined him, breaking the remaining tension in the room.
“Go ahead, Quella Perduta,” Michaela urged him, “tell her why your eyes are green.”
He obediently nodded to her, then explained matter-of-factly to Sky, “Vampires do not necessarily need blood to survive, just the essence of life, which, in humans and animals, is blood. When we feed, our eyes reflect the source of life we choose, which is why it’s deep red when we have recently fed but darkens after years of feeding, the result of aged blood in the body. We can survive on any life source: animals, humans, and, surprisingly enough, even plants.”
Sky stared back at him as if anticipating a punchline, oblivious to the contempt exuded by the rest of us. As much as I despised the vamps, to not accept one’s nature was a much greater crime. Was it his choice, I wondered, or was he simply serving Michaela’s amusement in the interest of his own self-preservation?
“You feed from plants?” Sky asked, incredulous.
“I use one particular plant, Hidacus. It seems to be the only one that can sustain my existence.”
“He has a greenhouse,” Michaela chuckled in shocked disbelief. “He has these silly little plants flown in yearly and pays a gardener a ridiculous amount of money to tend to them. All this he endures when food is all around us.”
Sky was fascinated. “You’re a vampire that doesn’t drink blood?”
Sebastian gestured toward the Lost One. “A creature of the night that doesn’t feed on humans. Is it possible that you have a civilized one among you? Perhaps there is hope for you all.”
The amusement drained from Demetrius’s smile. “You’ve never seen him in battle. Civility has no place in his heart. His adoration for torment and violence is absolutely exhilarating. If I weren’t so proud of his abilities, I would be envious. Please don’t underestimate him based on his unfortunate choice of sustenance. He is indeed one of us, and there is nothing civil about him.”
Sky’s fascination with him seemed to be mutual. In that moment, I knew that he was dangerous—not just for his capacity for violence, but because he was drawing her in. I recognized the look in her eyes that said, Here is one who can be saved.
“You are able to survive like this?” she persisted.
“Yes,” Quell answered, enjoying the attention. “You should see it sometime—its stem looks like a human neck. Does that comfort you?” He smiled, his fangs on display in what should’ve been a warning to Sky, but she remained oblivious. As I shook my head at her, I caught a disgusted look from Gavin. He wanted to kill her now more than ever, and my silent warning did nothing to deter his desire.
“Is she finished interviewing Quell,” Demetrius snapped, “or shall we continue to cater to her insipid curiosity?”
“No,” Sebastian replied. “Let us continue our conversation. I am curious to find out what mess of yours I am left to clean up.”
The bickering escalated from there. Normally, I wouldn’t shrink from a good pissing contest, but I had Sky to worry about. And Gavin. And Michaela. And Steven. It wasn’t long before Demetrius rose to his feet to shout down at Sebastian, who quickly rose to the challenge. In the blink of an eye, nearly every were-animal and vampire was on their feet, once more tensed and on
the brink of murdering someone.
“Are you really going to make your enemy’s job easier by killing one another?” Chris shouted, exasperated. “I don’t suppose it’s occurred to you this is exactly what your enemy wants.”
Sebastian and Demetrius pulled back from each other in a measured move that was underappreciated for the improvised choreography required for neither of them to appear to back down first. Despite their differences, they understood each other as leaders. Following their example, the rest of the room relaxed and slowly returned to their seats—except for Sky. She made a disgusted sound and walked out, shaking her head.
A hell of a time to go to the bathroom. I started to rise when Demetrius shouted, “The world needs fewer dogs!” I turned on him, adding my anger to the roiling shouting match that traversed the length of the table. Once again, pack and Seethe were on the cusp of violence. Despite his obvious anger, Sebastian would never attack Demetrius first, though he might do everything in his power to entice the vamps to violate our truce.
“This is pointless!” Chris shouted.
Quell was gone, I realized. Had he followed Sky? Steven hadn’t even noticed! My eyes darted between the dark corners of the room, but Quell wasn’t there, either. I caught a smug, careless look from Gavin as he met my expression. As my fists tightened, I pushed them down into the table to control myself. He knew. He’d seen the Lost One follow Sky and said nothing!
Just then the unlikely pair returned together, surprised to find the entire room suddenly quiet, eyeing them with suspicion. Aware of the attention, Sky quickly returned to her chair while the Lost One returned to Michaela’s side, acknowledging her chilly greeting with a submissive nod. The room remained quiet as Sebastian and Demetrius sized each other up, deciding whether there was any point of continuing.
“You two can put them back in your pants and quit the pissing contest,” Chris said, annoyed. She leaned back in her chair. “I can assure you they are both quite impressive. You two don’t like each other,” she continued. “Some might be as bold as to say you hate each other. Your people are being slaughtered. We can stay here another two hours and be entertained by your witty insults and unsubstantiated blame and let more of them die, or you can put aside your differences and agree to work together. It’s not a difficult decision.”
Demetrius relaxed into his chair, his hand sliding onto Chris’s thigh as his gaze met mine. His lips spread into an amused smirk as he watched my jaw clench. “I do believe we are being chastised for our unbecoming behavior.” He turned his attention to Sebastian, who smiled casually.
“She’s right,” he said. “‘Pissing contest’? I expected something with a little more subtlety from you.”
“I couldn’t think of anything clever that involved behaving like children, a time-out, and a sandbox fast enough,” she quipped, “so I went with the obvious. It was crude. My apologies.”
Sebastian considered Demetrius, making up his mind.
“Joan, how is she?” the vampire asked with surprising earnestness, which I warily appreciated, as did Sebastian.
“She will recover,” he responded.
“Good. She has always been an asset to the Southern Pack and worthy of her position. It would be quite unfortunate for something to happen to her.” Unlike most were-animals, Joan had earned a reputation for her poise and self-control. When aroused, she was as resolute and as deadly as Sebastian, but she was a natural diplomat. Her poise was her strength. Though she lacked Winter’s ability to create a trance, Joan could disarm nearly anyone with her congenial manner. Her control over her animal, a jaguar, exceeded that of any were-animal I knew of, so much so that she could speak while in her animal form.
Sebastian asked reluctantly, “Have there been any attacks on the Southern Seethe?”
“No, they were left unharmed,” Demetrius admitted.
“Good. Perhaps they can be used as a resource if necessary.”
Michaela laughed. “I assure you that if we are in need of the Southern Seethe, then we are far worse off than I imagined,” she said, drawing a polite smile from Demetrius.
The Southern Seethe were known to be careless, disorganized, and more interested in appeasing their appetites than exerting control—a surprise considering the Master of the Southern Seethe was Demetrius’s prodigy. It was not an accident that Michaela drew our attention to his failure. Despite her seeming ease, she was unhappy at Chris’s place next to him, a place that rightfully belonged to her. Did Chris know she was in danger?
Sebastian exhaled a slow breath. “Then it seems like we really need to work together to ensure we find out who’s responsible. I am not willing to lose anyone else just because”—he grinned at Chris—“we’re too busy seeing who’s going to win the pissing contest.”
“I couldn’t agree more,” replied Demetrius dryly.
The rest of the meeting involved calm, polite negotiation of the terms of our temporary alliance. At the end, Sebastian offered his hand, accompanied by a diplomatic smile. Demetrius reluctantly accepted the gesture, not-so-subtly wiping his hand with a napkin after the truce was sealed. Sebastian chose not to notice as he led us from the private room. At the doorway, I turned to see if Chris followed. Instead, she remained at Demetrius’s side. He leaned into her, his hand on her thigh, laughing, and she allowed it. More than that, she smiled back, as if genuinely enjoying herself. Was their arrangement more than business? Had she become that foolish? I was about to confront her when I felt a soft hand on the small of my back—Sky gently urging me toward the exit. I glanced back to Chris one more time, then sighed and followed Sky from the room.
We emerged from the restaurant, all but Gavin resigned to their disappointment. Gavin fumed.
“I’m taking you home,” I informed Sky, dismissing Steven with a gesture. I didn’t trust Michaela’s interest in her—or Quell’s.
We shared a stubborn, quiet tension on the drive to her home. I was too riled from the meeting, too angry from watching Demetrius fondle Chris as if he owned her. How could she allow him to touch her? The Chris I had known would have never given herself to him. I found myself in a rage that I couldn’t vent.
While I was normally careful about taxing our arrangement with the local police in populated areas, I drove aggressively, speeding, darting around other cars, and riding the bumpers of those vehicles that got in my way. Sky said nothing, but I heard her heart racing. I was scaring her, and I didn’t know how to stop. I gestured to the imaginary brake pedal beneath her, the one she had been instinctively jamming with her right foot. “It doesn’t work,” I said, trying to lighten the moment and calm myself, and failing miserably. Suddenly self-conscious, she prepared a snarky remark when we both saw the flashing red and blue lights riding up behind me.
I scowled as I pulled over and lowered my window. Sky nervously tapped her foot on the floor of the Porsche while we waited for the officer to approach. I recognized him instantly by his size and gait. He was a pack member, which made me wonder even more why he’d bothered to stop me.
He arrived at my window with a congenial smile. “Hello, Ethan.”
“Tim,” I answered.
He shone his light on Sky, beginning with her face and then slowly drifting down over her body, making her uneasy. She tensed further as he gave me a lurid, questioning look about her.
“I need to get her home,” I answered with a wry smile. “It’s past her bedtime.”
Tim chuckled and brought the light back to her face. “One of ours?”
“No.” I smirked for the show of it. She wasn’t, but that didn’t mean I appreciated his attention to her. She didn’t, either. “Just a friend of the pack.”
His curiosity became a disapproving scowl. Had he noticed the terait? Only the leading members of the pack knew of Sky’s unusual trait. “She’s different,” he whispered, unable to place what made him uneasy. “Not your usual.”
“How’s your wife?” I asked, successfully diverting his attention.
Tim chuckled. “Still pregnant and getting more irritable by the day.” Remembering his duty, he gave a subtle gesture toward his car. “I have a new partner. That’s the reason I stopped you. You were going pretty fast, and he noticed.”
I nodded. There were times when even I needed to go through the motions. I drew my wallet from my coat jacket and gave him my license, then reached over Skylar’s left knee to retrieve my registration and insurance card from the glove compartment. I left my hand on her knee—silencing her nervous foot-tapping—as I transferred the documents to Tim. While he carried them back to his car, Sky shifted away from me toward the door, turning her knee so that my hand fell away. Tim returned a moment later, handing me a warning ticket.
“Be careful the next couple of exits,” he cautioned. “We are out quite a bit, and they are not ours or pack friendly.”
“You’ve heard what happened?” I asked.
He nodded, concerned. “How is Winter?”
The reminder sent a new wave of anger through my body—at whatever was responsible for her injury, and my inability so far to discover the poison that prevented her from healing. “She’s not dead,” I snapped. Tim tensed at my tone. Judging by Sky’s scorn, I must’ve sounded callous.
He handed me back my documentation. “Have yourself a good night.” He scowled at me and Sky both, then returned to his car. The moment he was behind the wheel, I started the engine and drove back into traffic, flagrantly accelerating.
“What’s wrong with you?” she snapped as if I had wounded her. “Just stop it!”
“Stop what?” I snapped back, angry at my own lack of control.
“Being that way … being like you … cold, heartless.” She shook her head as if she could no longer recognize me, which cut me to the quick. “I know you probably don’t care whether Winter lives or dies, but can you at least act like it?”
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