Shadow Cursed (Shadow Falls Series Book 2)

by Lizzy Prince

  I won, and it had not only cemented my place as Alpha over my wolves, but it also forged an alliance with another pack. The Alpha punished the wolves responsible for my father’s death, and we agreed upon a truce. A good thing, since I hadn’t really fancied starting a war as my first move leading my wolves. It’s an alliance that still stands today.

  I hop out of my 4Runner, slamming the door harder than it deserves.

  “Here, eat some of these.” I thrust the box of cupcakes into her hands when I meet her by my front door. She grins happily, taking one out immediately and eating half of it in one bite.

  “Mmm, anytime, boss. What’s the occasion?” she asks before she shoves the rest of the cupcake in her mouth and dives into the box for another.

  “Just seeing if there’s some magic in there. Let me know if you start to get the hots for small, reddish-brown haired women.” I throw open my front door and head inside, hearing Dylan choking behind me.

  “Wait, what?” she snarls after she swallows. “Oh God, I need some milk.” She crosses over to the kitchen, dropping the box of cupcakes on the counter. She yanks open the fridge and pulls out the milk, finding a glass in the cupboard before pouring herself a hefty serving. After she takes a long drink, she cocks her head and narrows her eyes at me, glaring at the box of cupcakes on the counter like they’re full of poison.

  “I’m just kidding.” I wave her off. Although I’m not totally certain Bridget hasn’t put a love spell on me. I don’t think she’s a witch, but I’ve been wrong before.

  Dylan licks the extra frosting off her lips. “That’s an awfully specific thing to joke about.”

  I ignore her, getting ready to go for my nightly run when my phone buzzes in my pocket. Pulling it out, I glance at the screen and see Killian’s name pop up.

  “Vamp. It’s barely dark, why are you even awake?”

  Killian is one of my oldest friends, and we rarely bother with polite greetings.

  “I need muscle. I’ll be at your house in two minutes.”

  I sigh and pull the phone away from my face to look at it. Like maybe Killian can see how annoyed I am, even though it’s not possible. “Why?”

  “Just get out here.”

  “Have fun with that, boss.” Dylan waves as she heads back over to the box of cupcakes and grabs another. Obviously she’s not concerned enough about the cupcakes being enchanted to avoid eating another.

  Killian is just pulling up in front of my house in his sleek black BMW as I walk outside. I don’t bother asking what we’re doing before I get in. It’s not worth the bother. Killian will parcel out the information as he sees fit.

  “You’re looking awfully broody today, wolf,” Killian says in lieu of a hello.

  I grunt and move my seat back as far as it will go. His car’s not bad as far as leg room, but no one’s fitting behind my seat without getting crushed.

  “Tell me again what we’re doing?” I grumble, annoyed that Killian’s pulled me away from my run. Fine, my nightly stalking. Not like I didn’t just leave Bridget an hour ago. Still, more and more lately, I can’t seem to be away from her for long. My wolf gets restless, and an ache pulls deep in my chest. Like my heart can operate outside my body, but only if I’m within a certain distance. When I’m away from Bridget for too long, it aches for her.

  “Did you have something better to do today? A little bakery stalking?” Killian smirks at me, not bothering to look at the road in front of him.

  “Shut the fuck up,” I snap and then sigh. “I just saw her at the farmer’s market.”

  Killian chuckles and shakes his head, looking at me like I’m a poor bastard. “Well, lucky for you that I have the perfect distraction. I need help tracking down a few rogue vamps.”

  “Don’t you have Betas who do that kind of grunt work?”

  “Are you afraid of getting your manicure dirty?”

  Killian and I have been friends for over two hundred years. We grew up together. My family helped raise him, and I helped dig Killian out of a pretty big fucking hole after he became a vampire. But he’s always been there for me, and friends don’t ditch one another just because shit gets tough. That’s what being a friend is supposed to be about. Standing by during the hard times or maybe beating some sense into them, if that’s what’s called for in the situation.

  “Bitch, please,” I scoff at Killian, pretending to buff my fingernails against my chest. “What’s up with the rogue vamps?”

  “Gerard heard a rumor about a few vamps hiring themselves out as muscle.”

  “What’s wrong with that?” I ask distractedly as I stare at my phone looking through pictures of the farmer’s market from earlier today. They always post them at the end of the day, and I’m the fucking psycho who scrolls through them every week, looking for Bridget. Fuck, my levels of pathetic are hitting new lows. I click my phone off and shove it back in my pocket.

  “There’s nothing wrong with the concept. It’s who they’re working for.”

  “Are you going to make me guess?” I yawn, not in the mood for Killian’s games right now.

  “A wolf hired them to grab a witch.” Killian raises a meaningful brow in my direction. I snap to attention, sitting straighter in my seat as I narrow my eyes at Killian’s face.

  “And is it true?”

  “I don’t know yet, Silas, which is why you’re coming with me to go talk to Gerard. To see if we can figure out why, presumably, one of your wolves would be hiring my vampires to kidnap a witch.”

  I sink back into the seat, but I’m far from relaxed. Killian doesn’t look nearly as tense, but it’s a much more common occurrence for vamps to go rogue than it is for a wolf to hire vampires to do their dirty work. Wolves are pack animals. They run together and protect one another in groups. Vampires, on the other hand, tend to be solitary assholes. They don’t congregate in a pack, otherwise they’d likely start stabbing one another. There are too many vamp pheromones or something, and it messes with their minds. Just the thought that one of my wolves would be seeking out rogue vamps to do some dirty work has all the hair standing up on the back of my neck. Something is very wrong with this situation.

  It’s not much longer before we pull through a set of open gates and a guard house that has a security guard who’s sleeping with his feet up on the desk.

  “Does Gerard live in a retirement community?” I ask with a snort, noticing several octogenarians walking around the perfectly groomed neighborhood in tracksuits and visors. Really?

  “Shit. I think he does.” We pull into the driveway of a townhouse painted in a cheerfully bright pastel yellow. Gerard’s house, I assume. Killian and I get out of the car just as one of the neighbors walks by. Her hair is a white halo sticking out above her visor, and her tracksuit is gold and definitely velour. Her mouth is open wide as she stares at Killian first, then me as I unfold myself from inside the car. The woman trips a little and then hurries off when her senses appear to come back to her.

  “Still got it,” Killian purrs, and I roll my eyes.

  “Get inside, lover boy.” I push him toward the front door, and he laughs as he raps on it a few times.

  I can hear someone moving around inside and try to refrain from ripping open the door. I’m attempting to work on my manners. When the door finally swings open, we’re greeted by the sight of Gerard. He’s wearing a fluffy pink bathrobe that’s hanging open, giving us a clear view of boxers dotted with marijuana leaves and a pair of Batman slippers.

  “For fuck’s sake, Gerard.” Killian exhales in exasperation, pushing past him and barreling into the house.

  Gerard must have been in his mid-twenties when he was changed. He looks like a surfer boy, with his sun streaked light brown hair and washboard stomach, but I’m pretty sure he’s never seen the ocean. It’s been at least fifty years since he’s seen the sun, and he hisses when a little bit too much of the day’s light shines in through the open door.

  “Jesus, dude. A little compassion. We can’t all walk
in the daylight.” Gerard shuffles into his living room and flops down on the couch, hooking a leg over the arm and giving us a full display of his junk.

  I turn to look at Killian, because come on, this guy is going to give us reliable information? Killian ignores me and settles into a lawn chair that is apparently being used as living room furniture. My eyes scan the room for a place to sit, and I feel my blood pressure going up when I realize my only option is a bean bag chair. Or the seat next to Gerard on the couch, cock and balls all dangling invitingly for me to sit. Killian’s barely keeping his shit together as I throw him a death glare and move toward the bean bag. I flop down with a grunt, shifting and lifting my butt up, when something pokes my ass. Fishing beneath me, I extract a bong from the seat and set it on the beat-up coffee table. Killian is going to die, painfully. Why are we wasting time here?

  Killian coughs to cover his laugh but thankfully gets on with this ridiculous interrogation. “I need you to tell me what you heard about the vamps who took the witch.”

  Gerard has enough common sense and sense of self-preservation that he darts a worried look in my direction. Although, to be honest, he should really be shitting his pants because there are two alphas in his house.

  “Yeah well, I was at this buddy’s house, and a wolf came in. He was looking for someone to help him with this job.”

  Gerard’s eyes sweep over to his bong, and I can tell he wants to take a hit. Killian notices the same thing, irritation glinting in his eyes. He leans forward in his chair, putting a little of his vamp persuasion in his voice. “And then what?”

  Gerard’s Adam's apple bobs as he swallows, and I think he’s finally getting the sense that we’re not just here to piss away the afternoon.

  “Um… my buddy asked him what he needed, and the wolf told him he needed a witch taken care of and was looking for some vamps.”

  “And your buddy just happened to have the names of vamps who he knew would be open to this kind of work?” I interject, making Gerard jump in his seat as though startled to hear my deep voice.

  “Ah, well, he’s more like my dealer. That kind of buddy. You know what I mean? I mean, you and me, we’re buds, right?” Gerard licks his lips and motions toward Killian, looking like he could use a drink. Or a rip on his bong.

  Killian smiles at him, but his eyes are pure ice. I’m lounging in his bean bag chair, which I’m starting to find oddly comfortable, letting Killian take the lead.

  “Gerard, you and I are not buddies.” Killian’s voice is even, but there’s a subtle shift in the temperature in the room as he let some of his power out. Just a small display to remind Gerard who he’s dealing with. “But you are part of my house, and I’m sworn to protect you.” Killian’s voice softens, and some of the cold dissipates from the room, but I can tell Killian’s just doing it to get Gerard to let down his guard. But that only lasts a second.

  “That doesn’t mean that I don’t occasionally clean house. Especially for those who would go against my brothers.” Killian tips his head in my direction, and I nod back at him.

  “I would never. I don’t… I’m not interested in all the political shit,” Gerard stammers as a bead of sweat trickles down his temple, and then keeps up with the word vomit. “I just happened to be there at the right time. I told you about it right away, remember? Billy. My buddy, er, dealer, said he knew a few vamps and would hook up the wolf.”

  “What did the wolf look like?” I ask.

  “I didn’t see him. He was in the other room, but you know, supernatural hearing and shit.”

  “Did you happen to hear why the wolf needed the vamps?” I try to keep my voice light, but there’s an aggravated growl behind the words that makes better men than Gerard shudder in fear.

  Gerard swallows loudly, his eyes shifting all around the room like a mad animal. “Uh… a red headed witch. He wanted them to grab some witch with red hair. That’s all I know.”

  Killian and I share a look before he turns his attention back to Gerard. “I’m going to need you to get the names of those vamps out of Billy. I’ll expect you to have the information for me by tomorrow,” Killian commands as he stands up, not bothering to give Gerard any time to react or bluster. With a groan, I push up from the fucking bean bag, throwing it a glare before I follow Killian out. “Fucking frat boy furniture.”

  The old lady that almost tripped when we arrived at Gerard’s house is walking across the street, craning her neck in our direction. By the time we get to the car, she’s walked into a bush.

  “Let’s get the fuck out of here,” I growl, needing to get away from this uptight neighborhood so I can think through what the hell the stoner just told us.

  Chapter Five

  Silas

  It’s been a few days since Killian and I met with Gerard. There’s been an irritation in the back of my brain that’s bothered me since we left his house. A wolf wanted to hire vamps to take care of a witch. There’s a lot fucked up with that statement. Any wolves in the area were more than likely part of my pack. Hiring vamps to do their dirty work, especially considering it has to do with a witch, is shady business. I don’t know much, but I know without a doubt that this will not amount to anything good.

  Most of the people who come to my house don’t stand on formality and typically let themselves in without waiting for an invitation. So when a knock sounds on the door, I’m immediately on alert, and a sense of foreboding chills my blood. Dylan is sitting at my kitchen counter, looking through some documentation on a parcel of land I want to purchase for the pack. Her brows go up as she glances over her shoulder at the door.

  “Expecting company?”

  I don’t bother replying as I cross the room and open the door, finding a red headed waif nearly bent at the waist with her arms wrapped around her stomach. Is she a homeless kid? Although, kid probably isn’t the right word. She’s frail looking, and it’s hard to tell her age. She’s filthy, and her clothing is practically a rag. She doesn’t smell great, either, but it’s her scent that’s really confusing me. I’m getting hints of vampire and witch. Those two smells don’t correspond, since witches abhor vampires as a rule, and I’ve never known one to be turned into a vamp. I’m not even sure it’s actually possible.

  Fearful, blue eyes peer up at me, looking dazed and wary.

  “Help me. Please.” The words barely escape in a croak as though her voice hasn’t been used in some time. She takes a step forward and crumbles as if her legs can no longer sustain her weight. I scoop her up before she falls on her face and bring her into the house.

  “Dylan,” I bark out, and she’s at my side in an instant. I can see her inhaling, and by the confused look on her face, I’m guessing she’s reached the same conclusion as me. That we are dealing with an impossible vampire witch. Dylan doesn’t bother asking questions that I don’t have the answers to. Instead, she shifts some pillows on the couch so that I can lay the wisp of a woman down.

  The witch’s eyes drift open when I set her on the couch. Just as I’m starting to back away, her hand darts out. She grabs the front of my shirt, tugging at it so that I’ll be forced to bend to her request to stay put or rip my shirt out of her hand. I stay put.

  “He made me do it. I would have never. I know how important a mate is. He has me cornered.” She’s blathering on in a rapid spill of sentences, none of which make sense. I understand the words she’s speaking, but there’s no context to help me figure out what any of it means.

  “Calm down. Take your time.” I try to soothe her, keeping my voice even and low. I put a little bit of my Alpha command behind the words, but that doesn’t seem to do much. If anything, it triggers a strange reaction within her. She grips at my shirt harder, her nails coming in contact with my chest and razing little lines across my flesh. I know it’s an accident, but it elicits a very specific response in her. Her pupils dilate, and her breaths come out in uneven little pants.

  “Ah, boss?” Dylan warns behind me, and I’m right there with her on
the same damn page. But the little witch moves too fast, and before I can blink, she’s got her fangs sunk deep into my neck. I don’t want to hurt her, but I’ll be damned if I let a vamp suck me dry.

  “A little help here, Dylan?” I sigh.

  Dylan steps up and punches the woman in the temple, making her crumble. The witch-vamp’s fangs tear through my neck as she goes limp, making me hiss.

  “Jesus, Dylan, I didn’t mean to put her in a coma.” I roll my eyes and wipe at my neck, feeling the puncture marks already closing with my accelerated healing.

  “Sorry, boss. I was going to invite her out for pedicures to distract her, but I thought this might work a little bit better.” Her words drip with sarcasm as she scoops her arms under the vamp’s armpits. I pick up her feet, and we deposit the woman on my couch.

  “Fair enough. Watch her. I’m going to call Killian.” I move back from the couch, watching as the redhead sleeps with quick shallow breaths. Whoever she is, she’s not doing well.

  Killian answers on the second ring, which is a bit unusual. He must be bored. “Wolf, to what do I owe this honor? Did you miss me already?”

  “Kill, you hear back from your stoner friend?” As far as I know, Gerard hadn’t gotten back to Killian yet after our little conversation. The fact that vamps had been hired by an unknown wolf, likely one of my wolves, has been a thorn in my side since I found out. I will find out who that wolf is, but there are other, more pressing matters. Like the witch-vamp passed out on my couch.

  “No. He’s planning on meeting with his dealer tonight.” His dealer where he’d apparently overheard the whole agreement between the wolf and the vamps.

  “Yeah, well, I don’t think he needs to ask about the witch. I’m pretty sure she just found me. Some wisp of a red-headed woman showed up at my door a bit ago, spouting a bunch of nonsense before she sank her teeth into my neck.” My announcement is only met with silence.