Authors: Fiona Jayde
“I like it.” Walt leaned in to study the paper, his gnarled fingers splayed over the desk. Luke wondered how he stood it, growing old and frail while Luke stayed the same through the years, bitter and young and cold.
“Different than your usual. Softer.” Walt’s voice sounded different than usual as well. Heavier, as grief settled inside.
“What are you doing up?”
The old man gave him a small smile. “Long night.”
His wife had refused the chemo treatments. She’d slipped away last month, in peace and silence, and even as Luke grieved, watching his friend cope with the loss, he envied them. He couldn’t call himself alive because he’d died already. And he couldn’t find the strength to burn with morning’s light, not with his best and only friend alone and quickly aging. Maybe he’d find the strength after Walt passed.
“You want something to drink?” Luke had stayed up with him before, talking, looking through pictures, packing up her clothes. Wondering what it was like to have someone become part of his life, her wants and needs wrapped up with his.
“Your stock is dry.” There was wry amusement there, as if Walt was remembering how twenty years ago Luke was the first to open a bottle. And twenty years ago, drunk and invincible, he’d let a female vampire make him her willing toy.
His fingers tightening on the pencil, Luke pushed away the memory of sex and blood and death. He thought he’d loved her, had been enthralled by her sheer greed for him. Was shattered when that greed had worn off.
“I say you double the price.” As if reading his mind, Walt tried to change the subject. “Not quite your style, but could be great as a collector’s piece.”
The drawing didn’t match the heavy black and whites mounted on his walls, his art the only thing Luke kept from being human. “It’s not for sale.” As if by its own will, his hand once more traced that lush mouth.
Walt chuckled. “I didn’t think so.” He straightened up with creaking pops of stiffening joints. “You did really well this month.” He held out an envelope, politely averting his eyes when Luke peered inside. Just as he had that first time when Luke had finished college and tried to take the world by storm with art. The bills inside had been considerably less. And he’d had no idea what the world had to offer.
With a quick flick of his fingers, Luke took out a few bills, shoved the rest back to hand to Walter. “For rent.”
The old man shook his head. “You know it’s too much.”
“Property values are up.” And there were hospital bills and cemetery plots to pay for.
“You do this every month.”
“Better than drugs.”
Walt closed his mouth at that, although the argument had been the same for nearly eighteen years. Ever since Luke had been able to afford to pay for the small attic above the old Victorian where Walt and Alice had spent their lives. Ever since Walt started to sell Luke’s art.
“You’re right.” A small pause. “Thank you.”
As if the money could repay the basic kindness they had shown him when Luke was devastated and alone, hiding from daylight, bleeding, hungry. It had been Walt who had suggested that Luke sell his art. It had been Alice who had brought him packs of blood from Cottage Hospital—though only God knew how she’d swiped them.
Long after Walter made his way downstairs, Luke kept tracing the face in front of him, sharpening her features, brightening her eyes. He drew her hair loose and shiny, her tapered ears delicate and long. A bloodwolf, for God’s sake.
He wondered what she’d taste like with pleasure overtaking her, her blood flowing with it. Arousal mixed with disgust as he slammed down on the rollaway wedged in the corner and got out another pack of cigs to take him through day.
It wasn’t a fluke. Dina couldn’t shift and it had been hours since she’d run away with a vampire’s taste still on her lips, his scent surrounding her. She’d spent the rest of last night and today alternating between the punching bag and trying to center her damned body. The magic flowed in wolves whose mind and body were united, a feat achieved through meditation and pain of intense physical conditioning.
She’d badly skinned her knuckles and the magic hadn’t come. And no matter how much she scrubbed, Dina couldn’t get rid of the vampire’s scent teasing her senses.
She should have killed him when she had the chance.
Telling herself she was simply annoyed rather than scared out of her mind, her wet hair haphazardly braided to keep it out of her face, Dina pretended to focus on tonight’s patrol. If anyone knew of her loss, she would have to stay back while the strong Lycks took care of business.
No one would know, she reassured herself again and tried to pretend interest in vampire gangs in Isla Vista. The college town was heaven for vamps, with a population heavy with drunken underage dopes happily willing to be bitten.
She had no pity for the ones who let themselves be taken. She hadn’t felt pity for them in nearly ten years. Ever since she’d had to kill Darlene.
Scowling, Dina jerked her attention to the present, refusing to think back to that night, long before her father made her younger brother alpha because she didn’t have passion for their cause. That night when her best friend willingly let herself be turned into a vampire and had to fill her newfound taste for blood.
“…plenty of abandoned structures on the bluffs.”
Once more, Dina forced herself to focus. Her brother stood in front of three large monitors with a map of Isla Vista split between the screens. Off to his left, Zachariel manned the large console heaped with keyboards, monitors and books. The whole room with its shelves of tech equipment was a geek’s wet dream, including the mesh chairs Dina and the other bloodwolves leaned back on. The nerd-squad image was tarnished a bit by Earth, Wind & Fire cheerfully humming something in the background. Zach didn’t talk much but Dina couldn’t fault his taste.
Using a slim pointer, Manakell circled the area along the cliffs. “We should beef up patrol around here.” In the past four years since their father died and his mate left him, Man’s bright and yellow eyes grew darker every day.
“We look too old.” Dina hadn’t realized she’d spoken out loud until Man simply raised his eyebrows, coolly inviting her to make her point.
She wished she’d left her hair loose, so that the other bloodwolves wouldn’t see her flushing. She hadn’t challenged Manakell four years ago when they were both ravaged by grief of losing their father. Her brother was the chosen alpha and she had lost the passion for their cause.
She sure as hell wouldn’t challenge him now, with the magic leeched out from her blood.
With five other bloodwolves looking at her, Dina kept her voice steady and firm. “We’re much older than that crowd. We’ll stand out too much.”
“Unless you bust out the club wear.” This was from Sammael, a snort to lift the tension.
She simply flipped her cousin off, and the room temperature rose a notch. Zach kept on clacking at the keys.
“Point is, Isla Vista vampires are regulars. They blend. We won’t.”
“Won’t matter.” Manakell looked at her directly, his stance relaxed, his voice intense and cool.
Dina didn’t let her gaze drop when she shrugged. “Your call.” She had bigger and badder things to deal with. If Man found out what she lacked, he would be forced to tell her to stay home, then forced to do something about it after she flatly disobeyed him. A familiar pattern, because the same thing happened to his mate and didn’t that turn out peachy?
“Gonna keep shut about last night?”
She remained calm and even managed a cocky fuck-you smile when she turned towards Roguell. “Excuse me?”
He stood to tower over her, a clear challenge of a male intent on dominating. Somewhere to her left Man growled, soft, low, enough to let on he wasn’t happy. Sam shifted in his chair, enough to show support.
Dina ignored them both and hoped no one could smell her fear.
“Last night, at Kennedy’s. You had a clear shot. You didn’t take it.”
Now was the time for irony, even if her heart was loud in her throat. “No bites, no stakes.” She shot Manakell a sunny smile. “Isn’t that right, brother?”
Man didn’t look at her. “That’s right.” The soft words held an unspoken threat and even if it ruffled Dina’s fur, it also calmed her belly. Alpha or not, her brother had her back.
She let the rest of the meeting wash over her, picking apart last night, coolly examining the way she had responded to the vampire. She let him touch her, kiss her. He hadn’t smelled like blood. Instead his scent was that old soft leather mixed with the musk of male. Again she sank into the memory of him, his body against hers, his mouth hot and hungry.
“If you can’t fight, you’re no good hunting.”
She hadn’t noticed Rogue until his hand was on her arm. The meet was over, she heard Man and Sammael arguing somewhere in the house. Amidst the empty chairs and the blanked monitors, she was alone with Rogue.
“You really intend to tell me what I do?” She kept her voice ice hard as her hands fisted at her sides.
His grip went painful on her forearm, his fingers digging hard into her skin. She’d die before she’d show him that he hurt her.
“Problem?”
Keeping a feral grin in place, she slid a glance towards her brother. “Not till I count to three.”
They both heard the muttered “bitch” and both chose to ignore it as Roguell stalked away.
Man followed him with a long, thoughtful gaze. “You want to fill me in?”
She was too tired to snap at him. “Nothing to fill about.”
I made out with a vampire and can’t shift any more.
“That thing, where we can’t kill vamps without proof.” It was a good way to change the subject. “You never said why.” And though she’d always thought of it as stupid, she’d kept her mouth shut, careful not to do anything that could have been seen as a challenge—either by him or by the other Lycks. Especially by the other Lycks.
That was before. Right now, she didn’t care. Maybe if he threw her at the wall, she’d get the wolf back in her blood.
“You never really asked.” Man crossed his arms, the gesture more tired than arrogant. “One of them helped…me.”
The pause had been so smooth Dina wouldn’t have noticed if she hadn’t looked for it. A vampire had helped Valoelle, Man’s mate. Man’s ex-mate—if that was even the right word. Which probably explained the “don’t kill till you’re sure they’re bad” approach.
“They aren’t all after easy blood.”
“They’re animals.” She didn’t have the energy to pack heat in her words.
Man shrugged. “We’re the same damned thing with wolf mixed in.”
She peered into his face, noting the tired eyes, the tension of his stance that had nothing to do with her and everything with being the alpha. “We don’t feed on—”
“We do.” Soft and sharp voice, a shard of glass slicing through silence. “We feed off our mates, crave their taste the same as a vampire. Except most vamps aren’t particular. Sometimes…” He shrugged again. “Sometimes I wonder if it’s better.”
“Daddy would’ve—” She shut up but the words flew out anyway, beat at Man’s weary eyes until they hardened.
“He’s gone.” The implied “I’m not him” hung heavy in the air. “If you can’t handle hunting, you need to let me know.”
Chapter Three
Her fragrance caressed him every time Luke breathed. He didn’t know how he could sense it two days later, that potent mix of woman and arousal and raw-edged nerves.
The sweaty dreams in the few hours that he slept tortured him further. Visions of strong slim limbs, that lush mouth crying out in pleasure, teeth sinking into his own fevered skin.
She was a bloodwolf for God’s sake. A woman made from the same magic that spawned him, a race that called their young by angel names. A mix of blood and wolf and man, created to balance the scales after the Earth priestesses unleashed vampires on the world in an attempt to live forever.
Luke didn’t know how much of that was true, but the wolf Valoelle had been convinced of it. And since he’d saved her life and got his ass kicked in the process, he figured she didn’t have much need to lie.
Walking among the trees at Alameda Park, Luke tried to get the bloodwolf’s aroma out of his head by focusing on the night air filled with dying leaves and human sweat. Lovers and druggies came here to find solitude among the shadows. And he despised himself for being one of the vampires hoping to score a snack.
He didn’t go to a club tonight. Couldn’t risk seeing her again, not with her scent driving him insane and her bold features burned into his memory. With her eyes watching him from the drawing on his desk, Luke hadn’t fed in days. Even now, with hunger tearing his gut to shreds, he shuddered with disgust thinking of blood.
He hoped he’d find somebody out for a thrill, a faceless fix devoid of any feelings. He didn’t even know the bloodwolf’s name, and yet the thought of touching someone else revolted him, adding to the sick clenching in his stomach.
A vampire who hated feeding. Luke would’ve laughed if it wasn’t so pathetic.
The smell of blood, sudden and sharp, caught his attention. His stomach recoiling, Luke followed the trail a few yards to the right. The scene in front of him could have been easily mistaken for a kiss, as two bodies wrapped around each other in a parody of passion. He couldn’t quite tell the gender of the one on the bottom, but in the shadows of the oak tree, he heard an encouraging, excited moan.
Fresh blood called out to him, with the venomous beauty of a snake.
They gave away their blood for a slim chance of immortality, a high brought on by danger, the thrill of the taboo. Vampires did exist, and humans happily bared their necks for them.
Sometimes Luke saved them, those who came to their senses, struggling, calling out for help. Most times he let them be, because he knew firsthand they wouldn’t welcome being rescued. They wanted it—just as he had. And he could tell them immortality meant nothing. He was already the same ash he would become once he finally found the guts to face the sun.
Ignoring the aching of his insides, Luke watched to see if pink-striped hair on the bottom would let a vampire drain his life away. The whiff of blood teased at his senses. Once more he thought of those gold eyes and that clean musk of female desire, dark and beautiful. He used the memory of her to keep insanity away.