Embracing the Wolf - Book #2 (Anna Avery) Page 15

  “You’re up early,” a male said.

  I spun on my heel and found Donald sitting at the table with the newspaper in his hands. I immediately went on alert. If chatting with him was going to be like my talks with his wife, then I wanted to be anywhere but in this kitchen.

  I shrugged, opening the refrigerator. “Couldn’t sleep.”

  “Me either.”

  I heard Donald getting up, and my fingers squeezed around the edge of the fridge door. Closing my eyes, I sent up a silent prayer than he was leaving, that I wouldn’t have to endure yet another speech about how his son and me weren’t meant to be together. I had never thought of myself as having low self-esteem, but knowing that your fiancé’s parents loathe you will do a number to a girl’s ego.

  “I understand my wife has spoken with you?”

  With a heavy breath, I cursed the powers that be and shut the refrigerator. Turning to face my future father-in-law, I crossed my arms and stared across the room at him. He leaned against the counter, his hands hiding in his pants pockets.

  “Yes, we talked,” I said. “While I think it’s great you guys want what’s best for Adam, I don’t appreciate being judged based on the blood running through my veins. The Great Spirits are the ones who paired us as Chantes. How can you guys question their judgment?”

  In our mythology, The Great Spirits were the ancestors of the wolf. Every legend has a beginning; The Great Spirits are ours. I was never a spiritual person before becoming a wolf, but I felt a sense of pride when I transformed into my wolf, felt their presence every time I felt my paws beat against the earth and the wind in my fur.

  Donald chuckled softly. “I see my Maggie has made an impression.”

  Understatement.

  “You must realize, Anna,” Donald continued, “We have never witnessed a pairing like yours. I don’t mean to be rude, but alpha born and made wolves simply do not become mates. The wolves are abuzz with the new development. I imagine my wife finds your relationship a tad embarrassing.”

  I began to speak, but Donald held up a hand to stop me.

  “… but that’s her cross to bear. Her problems with you two stem from her ego. We are held in high regard with the wolves, and learning her son is mated to a non-alpha is a lot for her to accept. Adam is the alpha of his own pack now, and you’re a baby to our world. You can see why she’s worried, not to mention the bond between you two.”

  I was confused. Was he apologizing for his wife, or agreeing with her? Maybe his tactic was trying to get me to see reason. The only thing was, where love was concerned, there was no reason and Adam’s and my relationship was more complex than the average. I wondered, not for the first time, if Adam and I weren’t each other’s Chantes, would we even be together? Sure, we loved each other, and I had a shiny diamond on my finger, but would our story still be the same had we not been marked for each other? After all, it wasn’t like Adam ever proposed to Eve.

  “Have you ever met another couple that bonded?” I asked Donald.

  His aging face softened as he thought about my question. “There are stories of the Chante bond, but I have never met a bonded couple. As far as I know, the last bonded Chante couple was over a century ago. If it’s happened since then, the couple has kept it hidden.”

  Donald closed the space between us and held out his hand, gesturing toward my own in question. Reluctantly, I placed my hand in his and watched as he turned it over to study my scarred palm. Softly, he traced the upraised pattern. My wolf quivered within me, sending goose bumps along my skin. The power of Adam’s father filled the air around us, suffocating and strong.

  “Such a tricky, tricky gift,” Donald muttered.

  My head fell to the side while my forehead wrinkled in question. He didn’t notice my inquisitive look, though; his eyes were locked on the brand.

  “Because it’s more of a curse than a gift, right?” I said after a while. “Maggie informed me of that, too.”

  After a few moments, Donald met my eyes and dropped my hand. “It can be—a curse, that is—but it can also be used for great power. It links two people together. It doubles everything: power, strength, awareness. Two become one, making them … unstoppable.”

  I snorted in derision. “For that to happen, your son would have to allow me to fight. He panics as soon as anything dangerous steps into my path.”

  Donald gave me a small smile. “It’s in his blood to protect what is his, and you are very much his. Plus, as I said, the Chante bond can also be a curse. If something were to happen to you, it would destroy Adam. While he may be protecting you, he’s also protecting his own life.”

  I frowned at this meaning. He was telling me that the reason Adam sent me away when things got dangerous was that he thought I was a liability and could do more good hiding out than helping him fight. It was true, I wasn’t the best fighter before I got my honorary alpha status, but things had changed. I felt strong now, capable of taking on any wolf—or vampire—stupid enough to approach me. At that thought, another occurred to me. I needed to figure out who had hired vampires to kill me, and why. Was it to get to Adam, or to destroy him?

  “You’ve heard about the vampire attack last night, right?”

  Donald nodded his head. “Peculiar occurrence. Vampires and werewolves don’t cross paths often. We keep to ourselves and they to theirs.”

  “So you don’t know who might have hired them?”

  The lines around Donald’s eyes deepened. “Hired them?”

  “They were here for me, to kill me. Do you know why a bunch of random vampires would just show up and want me dead?” When Donald shook his head, I continued, “Then it stands to reason that someone hired them to keep their hands clean. If a vampire killed me, then none of the wolves would be held responsible. The only thing is, I had a vision that it was Adam who died.”

  I normally didn’t offer information about my visions to anyone other than those close to me, but I knew hearing this information would rile Donald up. Having him on my side wouldn’t hurt, should things get out of control. Donald and Maggie may be pretentious and prejudice, but I knew they loved their sons. If someone planned to kill Adam, they sure as hell wouldn’t stand by and allow it to happen. I thought about Anthony and what he had confessed last night, that he had the urge to protect me. Strange, yes, but my whole world had been strange since I turned into a werewolf. I knew I should have told someone, especially Adam, about this new information, but I also knew how pissed Adam would be. Anthony wasn’t honorable like his brother. He had made one bad choice after another, but something deep inside of me could overlook all that. Maybe I, too, was aware of him as much as he was to me. Maybe, just maybe, my theory on the twins was right, and my bond with Adam extended to his brother. Not in the same sense, though, as I wasn’t attracted to Anthony and didn’t feel anything remotely as close to what I felt for Adam.

  “Anna, are you even listening to me?”

  I blinked, coming out of my thoughts to find Donald glaring at me. His hands curled into fists at his sides and his lips slanted down into a scowl.

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “What were you saying?”

  Donald stepped closer to me, his alpha power like lightning licking against my skin. My wolf writhed inside me with uneasiness.

  “Who did you see kill my son?”

  “I—I didn’t.” My voice came out as a stutter as I fought off the effects of his anger.

  Donald raised his arms and curled his fingers around my shoulders. His fingers dug into my skin almost painfully. I looked up to meet his eyes, but the storm brewing behind them cowered me. Donald wasn’t just an alpha, he was an olde blood and more powerful than even his son. My wolf whimpered inside me, scratching and clawing to get as far away from that angry stare as possible.

  “What do you mean, you didn’t?” Donald snapped. “You said you had a vision of Adam dying. At whose hand?”

  “Can you please let go of me and take a step back? I can’t concentrate when you’re
frightening my wolf.”

  With reluctance, Donald let go of my shoulders and stepped away from me. He crossed his arms and stood with his legs shoulder-width apart. The thickness of the air around me eased a little, and I could breathe better.

  I took one long, deep breath and then explained the vision I had had of Adam dying. When I was done, Donald scrubbed a hand over his aging face and stared at the hardwood floor, as though it held all the answers. He didn’t need to tell me how frustrated my vision made him; it did the same to me. What was the point in having visions if no helpful information could be extracted from them?

  “I planned to investigate further today,” I told Donald. “I want to know how to stop it just as much as you do.”

  “And how do you plan to do that if you don’t know who’s responsible?”

  I thought for a moment. “I’m going back to the spot where the wolves fought the vampires last night. I’m hoping by being there, touching the ground they walked on, another vision will appear, and I can learn more. No secrets stay hidden for very long.”

  Donald met my eyes and gave me a curt nod. “If you learn anything new, I want to know about it immediately.” And with that, he stomped out of the kitchen. I didn’t relax until the front door slammed shut, and I was standing in the kitchen alone.

  I walked up a dirt trail that would lead to the clearing of the fight last night. Tall pine and birch trees lined either side of me, their limbs shadowing the earth. Thick, gloomy clouds hovered in the sky with the promise of snow. At this altitude, snow wasn’t restricted to seasons—it came year round. Angry blizzards suddenly erupted up here all the time. I eyed the clouds with disdain, hoping they held out until I was done. The cold wouldn’t bother me, but investigating while tiny specks of snow bombarded my face was sure to make it difficult.

  When the dirt road opened up into the clearing, I stopped and took in the scene. Broken branches and upturned grass was the only sign that something happened here last night—that and … blood? I raised my chin in the air and took in a deep breath, swiveling my face from left to right. It was blood, werewolf and vampire. The blood of the wolf smelled of rich earth and pine, whereas the vampires’ smelled stale with an undertone of burnt hair.

  Moving closer, I followed my nose to the scent. I knelt down and reached a hand out to a small pile of black ash. Dipping my fingers in the soot, I brought it to my nose and inhaled again. I didn’t know a lot about vampires, but I could guarantee the ash on my fingertips was vampire blood, turned to ash when the sun rose. I watched in astonishment as small flakes danced up off my fingers and disintegrated into the air. The supernatural was amazing that way, erasing all traces of itself from the human world. Worried about losing my evidence, I fisted my hands into the pile of soot and held fistfuls of it in hopes of a vision. It didn’t take long before the scenery before me disappeared and I was seeing the past of the vampire the blood belonged to.

  I stood right next to a couple, a tall man with unruly brown hair and round hazel eyes and the woman from last night. From her dominance, I pieced together that she was in charge of the vampires. It was strange to be standing right next to their past selves. I half expected them to acknowledge me. I held my breath, remembering how ruthless the female vampire had been last night. She moved like the wind and hit like a wrecking ball. When their eyes didn’t fall on me, I released the breath.

  “We go tonight,” the woman said. Her shoulder-length dark hair swayed to the side when she leaned over and zipped up her knee-high boot.

  I looked around the space, realizing we stood in a hotel room. Two queen beds with floral comforters occupied most of the room. A boxy television sat atop a wooden dresser, and a bathroom was at the back of the room.

  The man moved to the window. With his pointer finger, he drew the curtain back just enough to see a sliver of the outside world. Light filtered into the dark room, and the man hissed and let his hand drop from the drapes. I guess it was true that any amount of daylight was like acid to these bloodsuckers.

  “I still don’t know why we’re doing this,” the man said with irritation. “Since when do we work for werewolves?”

  “A payday is a payday,” the woman said. “I don’t discriminate.” She punctuated the sentence with a devilish smirk.

  “She almost caught you the night of the ceremony,” the man said. “Plus, she’s a white wolf. Even I know the legends, and they don’t bode well for those who wish her harm.”

  The woman scoffed. “You and your superstitions. That little bitch didn’t come close to catching me, and I won’t bat an eyelash at her being a white wolf when her own kind wants her dead. If they don’t respect the legends, then why should I?”

  I could feel my lips peel open and my jaw drop. I remember how my pack reacted the first time I transformed into my wolf, and it was white. No one ever came out and said why they were so surprised, but whispers lingered around the mountain about it meaning something great. I had searched the book of our history for the answer, but nothing was written about white wolves. Hearing it was a legend, and that vampires had even heard of it, jarred me to my bones. From the moment my body accepted the werewolf virus, and I’d become one of the monsters that only stories are made of, I’d been different.

  “Besides,” the woman said. “I’ve been hungry for a good fight.”

  The man snorted as though he had heard the woman’s zeal for violence before. He walked over to the bed and sat, resting his arms on his bent up knees. The woman walked over to him straddled his lap, causing the man to sit back. He rested his hands on the mattress behind him and looked up at her. The admiration in his eyes was unmistakable. A sense of unease filled me at witnessing such a private moment. It quickly vanished as I remembered that these two weren’t two innocent lovers, they were plotting my death.

  “Everything will be okay, Taren,” the woman said softer. “We’ll rip that bitch’s head from her shoulders and collect the six figure paycheck. After that, we’ll take our vacation to Europe, devour the townspeople, and fuck while bathed in their blood.”

  A smile replaced the worried scowl on Taren’s face. His fingers curled around the woman’s behind as he pulled her tighter against his pelvis. She let out a small moan of pleasure, and a flash of fangs peeked out from under Taren’s lips.

  Unadulterated fury singed me from the inside out. These two were every bit of the monster as their lore depicted them as. To talk so casually about murder caused my stomach to coil with nausea. My mind swam in dark waters as I contemplated all the ways I could kill them first. A small voice in the back of my mind whispered, How are you any better than them? I shooshed the voice—I was ten times better than these two. I would kill to protect my pack, and myself, and with their deaths countless innocent humans would be saved, too. These vampires weren’t innocent and killed for money, not necessity.

  When I looked back at the couple, they were now laying back on the bed. The woman’s shirt was missing, and Taren was kissing a path down her stomach. Her mouth opened with a moan, twin fangs poking out.

  I closed my eyes, wanting to be anywhere but in this hotel room. I did not want to witness these two having sex. Moans and hungry snarls filled my ears, and I clamped my eyes tighter shut, willing myself out of the vision. Only, it didn’t work. I was still standing in the hotel room, still subjected to their cries of pleasure. I whirled around and fumbled with the door handle, but it wouldn’t turn. I flipped the locks, thinking they must be switched, but no matter how many times I flipped them, the door still would not open.

  I kept my back to the couple, bile rising to my throat when the bed started creaking. None of my visions had ever lasted this long. I never felt trapped in the past, or worried about escaping it. I was now. My heart raced in my chest while my mind grappled with what to do. I didn’t know how my visions worked, but surely this part wasn’t important.

  I moved to the corner by the door and rested my forehead against the wall like a child being punished. That’s wha
t it felt like—punishment. I kept my eyes closed and hummed a song to drown out the endless moaning, squeaking, and flesh against flesh sounds. I kept thinking that at any minute I would be back on the mountain and all of this would be over, but after what seemed like hours, my feet were still firmly planted on the hotel’s aging carpet.

  The sounds stopped finally, and I stopped humming, listening for something other than the sounds of sex. A shuffle of clothes and footsteps caused me to turn around. Taren sat on the edge of the bed again in only a pair of jeans. His bare chest revealed a large tattoo on his back. I walked away from the door so that I could study the design. It seemed it was just a tribal design with no rhyme or reason. My lip curled up at the welts from fingernails, which lined parts of his back. The floral comforter and sheets were in disarray, and twin puncture wounds dotted the side of Taren’s shoulder. I thought about how these creatures had to drink blood to survive and the bile in my throat rose again. Then again, I ate raw, bloody meat while in wolf form. Still, it seemed different in my mind, even if just slightly.

  A cell phone on the bedside table rang out through the room. Taren lifted the phone and pressed it to his ear.

  “Yeah? She’s in the shower … She’s not going to like that … Tell Veronica yourself … Tough shit.” He pressed the end button on the phone and set it back on the table. Lowering himself, he lay on the bed and raked his fingers through his unruly hair as his eyes stared up at the ceiling.

  “White wolf, white wolf,” Taren whispered, his eyes still on the ceiling. “Better than the rest of tooth and claw. Rise above, take control, it is your destiny to rule them all.” When he finished the rhyme, his head lolled to the side, and his eyes found mine. I gasped, going still except for the rapid beating of my heart.

  The room began closing in on itself, white mist filtering in to cloud the space. My blonde hair flew around my face as my body began to move backward. It felt as though I was being sucked through a tunnel. The vacuum drew me back, and everything vanished. I squeezed my eyes shut and landed with a hard thump on my knees. Opening my eyes, I stared at the rough mountain ground with blurry eyes. I was panting, trying to catch my breath and slow the slamming of my heart. I fell back on my heels and threw my head back, closing my eyes again. I was nauseous and the spinning landscape wasn’t helping. Tiny specks of cold dotted my cheeks and forehead. Wind whipped around me, blanketing me in its icy chill.