Lycan Alpha Claim 3 (24 page)

Julia looked at him. “Is that because of the Singer blood?”

He nodded. “The shifting to raven is the single most powerful element I gained from my genetics. Sometimes, although it is not always trustworthy, the moments of intuition have made me a better fighter.”

“How?” Julia asked, allowing herself to be tugged along as they made their way back to the underground city.

“Instinctive.”

“You fight with... training or...?”

He glanced her way then looked around again, still slightly tense. “I use what has been given to me. I know because of my Singer heritage that I can shift to raven form and sometimes I anticipate.”

Julia had to ask, with nine other sets of vampire ears to the ground, honing in on her words she forged ahead, “Anticipate what?”

He stopped, looking down at her for a moment. His gaze uncomfortably intense, he answered, “Danger.”

Oh, she looked around as well, sensing nothing.

“Let us be gone from this place.”

And they left.

None of them saw the Were who tailed them discreetly.

The Were's sense of smell allowing a great distance to be maintained while still triangulating the vampire position.

The Were came upon the plastic bottle that had been dumped.

It was too perfect to believe. The vampires had been sloppy by allowing anything she touched to be discarded by any means other than fire.

Of course, vampires did not like fire. A grim smile overcame his face.

He reached to pick up the discarded bottle, scenting it for the Rare One.

Julia Caldwell's scent floated around the mouth of the bottle like the most exquisite fragrance imaginable. He held the bottle triumphantly while motioning with his hand for the four other Were to gather round him.

They did, each scenting the bottle. Familiarizing themselves with her smell.

The scent of the Rare One. The Mistress even over the moon.

As her unique signature filled their flared nostrils, five pairs of eyes spun to gold in faces that were no longer quite human.

Joseph brought his face up to gaze at the moon. Its mocking form half gone to full.

As small yips of excitement broke out in the circle of men, the tone changed to a quality that caused the pigeons to flee their roosts.

The noise caused the fear and flight reaction as surely as a primal alarm going off.

The Were returned to their den.

An empty bottle as so much trash, carried in the fist of the Alpha.

Joseph clutched it tighter as he ran.

CHAPTER 19

two weeks later

Julia stretched until every vertebrae cooperated by popping. Ah... so much better. She wasn't happy, yet. But for the first time since Jason's death she felt a form of contentment. She was sure it had a lot to do with the daily runs. Her body was knitting itself stronger each day and she was thankful.

William had not pressed his advantage when it would have been easy to and Julia had noticed.

William and she had lunch together each day now. Actually, she ate lunch and he drank blood. It was an uneasy alliance but he had to receive nourishment too. And she couldn't negate what he had done for her.

With his blood.

It was yesterday's lunch that rolled around in her mind. She couldn't believe what he'd told her. The revelation.

That Claire was his cousin. William was one quarter Blood Singer. His ancestry lent him the paranormal stripe that allowed him to shapeshift, to have those little moments of awareness that were
other.

Julia had been curious, picking at the meal before her, salad and salmon. The coven provided only the finest meal for their trophy. Julia squelched the thought even as it formed. She knew that she needed to think of the coven as her benefactors. Or she'd never achieve any happiness, joy.

She had sighed and Williams’s brows had rose in question.

“It's about Claire...” she looked at him.

Stared actually, trying not to notice how handsome he was, how well-built, how... everything. Heat rose to her face and she knew without a mirror she was blushing.

“Well... she is my cousin.” He dropped the bomb like it was of the least consequence.

“Are you kidding?” Julia nearly shouted.

He shook his head, the corners of his mouth already turning up.

“You are!” she huffed, folding her arms across her body.

“I promise, I'm not having you on. It is true.”

Julia searched his eyes for the joke, and finding none, went on, “How is that? She looks like she's ten years older than me?”

William paused, then said, “Once a Singer mates a vampire, if there is enough blood quantum, they take on some of the properties of their mate. In this case,” his eyes met hers, “immortality.”

Julia thought about it, almost stunned into speechlessness. “So Claire's like... hundreds of years old?”

“Technically that is accurate.” William said, thinking he was enjoying having her pull information from him like hen's teeth.

The tables turned for once.

Julia huffed. “Just tell me William.”

“She is three hundred six.”

Julia gasped. That made William...

“I am only two hundred twenty.”

So young
, Julia thought, rolling her eyes.

William laughed from his gut. Usually serious, he found Julia lightened him considerably. She added a buoyancy to his life where none had been before.

“Yes, she is quite wise.”

Julia turned her fork over and under, over and under until William put his finger on the tines. He met her gaze. “What are you thinking?”

“I wonder why we look a little alike, Claire and I?”

William leaned back in the chair he sat on, drumming his tapered fingers on the bare wood of the table, thinking.

Unaware that he smoldered at her, in her. The blood share's tenacious grasp still clung like reluctant glue.

“Gabriel has said there is a common region that the Singers hail  from antiquity.”

Julia waited.

William shrugged. “It is just a hypothesis. But it may explain the similarities in their looks.” He looked at her briefly, then glancing at her half-eaten plate finished his thought, “Blood Singers are generally fair-complexioned, with some degree of red hair. But not all. Some can be quite dark.”

“How do you know this?” Julia was thinking that Jason hadn't had that coloring.

“It was a cross-checking method we employed as runners. If the scent did not convince us, the coloring being as it were... well, it was almost fool proof.”

Julia was fascinated, remembering her mother's hair ablaze with copper fire. She remembered perfectly. Memories of the accident crowded the inside of her skull in a dull press but she shoved them away forcefully.

“Gabriel is originally from Scotland.”

Ah... Julia remembered wondering about that brogue he had.

“Have you heard of Stonehenge? Located in England?”

She nodded, it was pretty famous. In high school they'd studied it briefly in World History.

“That is where the biggest concentration of Singers reside. They fan out in many directions, but it is there that they proliferate.”

Julia smiled, not really successful in reining in her sarcasm. “Then why don't you guys do a road trip and net 'em all?”

Williams’s smile faded, shaking his head. “They become powerful in concentrations as big as that one.” His eyes were serious again.

“So, they can bring a can of whoop-ass?”

William smiled at her vernacular. “Yes, they can bring whatever they please. That is why we concentrate on mostly immigrants, diluted by centuries of out breeding. Sometimes, as in your case, we strike a pureblood. Any Singer over half pure is worth acquisition.”

Julia thought about all that he'd said. “So, why am I not... psychic or some other cool thing like that?”

William chuckled, crossing his legs at the ankle. “You will be many things.” He shrugged, “It is different with each Singer. A Rare One is an anomaly. Hard to find, more difficult to speculate about.”

“What can Gabriel do? He's the coven leader... he's a Rare One,” Julia said, thinking he may have mojo. A buttload.

Julia watched William think about his words and was struck anew by how very deliberate he was with his thoughts. He never just blurted stuff out.

Like her.

She smiled unconsciously and he returned her grin, his fangs hidden.

“He is male.” William looked down to his long-stemmed glass, the bagged blood distributed inside the glass as an affectation. Like a beer out of a frosted mug as opposed to straight out of the bottle.

She waited and he continued. “He has some paranormal talents,” he paused, looking at her then continued, “but it is the females that possess all of what a Rare One could offer. Eventually, you will be many things. Manifest many things.”

Julia looked at him. “Besides being able to make vampires choke on my blood and heave helpful people against walls, what else is there?”

She was only half-joking. Julia wanted to know what to expect.

William shrugged a muscular shoulder, the button-down shirt hiding nothing. She'd give vampires this, they were all pretty spiffy to eyeball.

“It has been some time since a Rare One has been... in residence. It will be all conjecture at this point. But,” he paused, “there have been things in legend. Those are: telekinetic ability, telepathy, super-human strength...” He finished, ticking off each ability on his fingers then resting his hands on his thighs.

Julia liked the last one and smiled.

He chuckled, “That's usually reserved for males.”

Oh.

“Limited healing. And of course, there are the genetic properties of the Rare Ones. They will allow the supernaturals to become more, better.” William leaned forward, all intensity. “Just think of the ramifications of being vampire, but not ruled by bloodlust, by the night.” He swung his palm to encompass their immediate area.

Julia watched an internal fire ignite in his eyes and realized the vampires felt trapped by their existence. That what made them
other
, also stifled them in isolation.

It made Julia profoundly uncomfortable to realize two factions thought of her as a savior. But she hadn't asked to be a Rare One. Instead, she had just wanted a normal life. She looked in William’s earnest eyes and sighed. At least she hadn't been taken by the Were. From what William told her, they cared very little for the Rare One's comfort. She remembered what he had told her on one of their many runs before she'd been able to do much but shuffle along.

*

William

William looked down with tenderness at the top of Julia's head. He allowed himself that luxury when she was not aware of his regard. She looked up and he instantly schooled his expression into one of neutrality.

“You ask of the Were. They also find the Blood Singers critical. Even a Singer who has as little as one quarter blood quantum can give them additional days to make the change. They cannot aspire to be moonless changers. But, they can have more days to use her call.” He kicked a random pebble and Julia stopped, turning to look at him. The streetlamp reflected off the damp patches of asphalt, the city still humming all around them. The deadest hour of the night had the least people but still cars were rushing past, dim noise and the smells of a city that never quite rested a backdrop to their hushed conversation.

She crossed her arms and huffed out a breath while the other vampires formed a loose circle around them, maintaining an ever-vigilant protective perimeter. “So what you're saying is, that both vampire and Were compete? They run around, gathering up the purest of the Singers to what? Make sure they have more power?”

William thought it sounded dire when she put it like that. “It is for the betterment of both. We think their methods are heathen. But the consequence is identical. What they gain, what we gain...” he let his sentence trail off.

“What do we gain, William?” Julia asked, her eyes searching his, her palm on the center of her chest.

He did not drop his gaze but not without effort. There was little that the Singer gained. Except, their mate would be devoted. There was additional protection. He sighed, raking a distracted hand through his hair, frustrated.

“You have the security and protection of the coven,” he finally answered.

Julia snorted, “Oh yeah! That's worked so well,” she said significantly. She thought of the fangs that had been sunk into her collarbone, adding to the healing scars of William's claws from when he was in raven form. Unreal. She felt so protected.

Julia told him so, with sarcasm.

William gripped her shoulders, cupping them firmly in hands that wrapped them front to back. “There will always be rogue vampire. There will always be vampire amongst our kind that take, that do not follow rules, hierarchy. You do ken to that? Is it not the same in the human population?” he asked, unblinking. His eyes, so blood red in certain lighting, were silvered and reflective in the dark.

“It's true,” Julia responded, trying to not squirm in his grasp. “But if I'm so special, why did they try to hurt me? Believe me, it hurt.”

William knew. He had been barred from giving blood a third time. As her kind said, the third time would have been the charm. It would bind her to him without choice, without consent. A union filled with resentful compliance was not acceptable.

Not to him.

In the end, she had been given a transfusion. She smelled off for two weeks afterward. He had mentioned she had smelled like someone else until her body's natural cycles and rhythms had righted themselves.

“I'm so sorry that I didn’t smell tasty for a week or two,” she'd said, rolling her beautiful eyes at him. William had smiled.

“It is better for me. Not your pain, your suffering at their transgression,” he mentioned quickly to avoid confusion as her brows came together in a frown. “But because their attack on you proved my mettle. You know the man I am.”

Julia shook her head in correction. “You are not a man. You're something else.”

William’s face took on a sad countenance. “I am more man than you could ever know.”

Julia looked into a face filled with sincerity and an expression she'd seen on Jason's face before.

Desire.

She shifted her gaze from his as they walked away together, the vampire guard swarming around them.

*

taking

Joseph gave Tony a subtle flick of his tail, but it was scent, not motion that let Tony know to flank the group of vampires. One amongst the Were remained unchanged.

A new threat faced them. They had smelled what threatened during their last reconnaissance.

The Rare One was entering her awakening. She would be dangerous. One of his wolves would nail her with the gun. A gun that had a dart filled with a sedative. It could stop an ox. In this case, it would stop the Singer. Stop her from using what made her unique against them. That she stayed willingly with the kiss of drinkers was worrisome. Very.

She was unmated. Joseph knew. Her smell told him.

They moved toward the group, stealthily. Sure and confident.

Ready for combat.

*

Julia

Julia was nervous. She was usually anxious now. Gone was the easygoing nonchalance of her former life. Knowing what she was had stripped her of that. Not knowing what her future held, or knowing the expectation others had for her future had cloaked her as surely as the warm puffy coats of her Alaskan existence before.