* * *
Veronica
* * *
Time passes far too quickly as the pack trails me, and the sun sinks into the night’s embrace. I almost lost sight of my little wolf stalker. The other dogs call him Vince. His name sends a chill down my spine in the most unexpected ways. The shiver of delight, of intrigue even, perks up my lips into a pleasant smile.
I love the way his silver eyes follow me, just like the lost puppy he is. My smile widens, threatening to expose my sharp fangs if I don’t contain myself. How could I resist this, though? How could I resist him? Especially given that I’ve been so damn bored scouting out this Podunk town for the coven. Hearing him pant with lust dripping from his desperate whimper for me to be his has my cold, dead heart beating with scalding hot blood.
The other werewolves shadowing him have put a damper on my intrigue. Just the thought of them, of a pack, forces the pull I feel toward Vince to quiet itself. I wonder if he knows they’ve been tracking him all night. Probably not, considering that he hasn’t stopped following my every step in these gray suede pumps. The dogs may have a better sense of smell than us vamps, but their hearing is shit.
Every pump of their hearts, every swallow, every murmur and whisper … I hear it all. My eyes narrow with contempt at the pack following the lone wolf who’s set his sights on me.
Tapping my sharp nails against the railing to the nightclub, I admire my bloodred manicure as I wait for Vince to catch up. I’ve done this all day, allowing the hours to pass and standing by for the sun to slip away. What’s about to happen shouldn’t be done in the daylight with humans out and about. The scant two hours Vince muttered about possessing have long since passed.
I could play this game of cat and mouse all day, but now that the humans have mostly dispersed, the time has come to end this charade.
The club is the only place open this late, and even it’s going to close down soon. Aptly named Allure, music blares from the doors every time they open and patrons pour in and out. Tipsy women who dared to wear heels pass me with slurred speech and an unsteady gait.
I keep mulling over the words whispered by my pup’s predators: rightful pack. The wretched creatures were planning on stealing the Alpha’s new mate. Devin’s mate. My crimson lips that match my nails kick up into a smirk once again. Their plan went to shit when their cars wouldn’t start and they ended up stuck in this boring-ass town. Reaching into my studded black leather clutch, I pull out two spark plugs and toss them into a dingy trash can on the deserted sidewalk. The clunk ricochets down the alley, almost in rhythm with the sound of their steps coming closer and closer.
Initially I thought about cutting their brake lines, but they were planning on following my pup’s pack and I wasn’t sure how that would turn out. I wanted to play with him, after all, and I wasn’t about to let some rent-a-pack pricks wreck my night.
Wiping a touch of engine grease down the side of the brick wall, I walk slowly, not stalking, simply waiting. Control is divine. And tonight, every bit of control is mine. My heels click against the broken asphalt beneath me as I wait, my pace turning slower and slower.
I perk up as I hear the sound of the “rightful pack” to my right. A sarcastic huff leaves me as they say it again. “Rightful pack.” My long lashes flutter shut as I listen close. My pup’s shuffling somewhere behind me, maybe a mile back on my left, no doubt following my scent. It seems his enemies have a new target. My smirk morphs into an all-out grin. All their muttering makes it sound like they’ve set their sights on me this time.
“He must be following his mate.”
“Get her first.”
“We’ll use her to get to him. And then him to get to the pack.”
Oh, those sweet foolish men. My fangs peek out ever so slightly as I bite down on my bottom lip, grateful they’ve finally put two and two together. How adorable that it only took them hours and not days. I can only hope Vince’s pack, the one Devin has sovereignty over, isn’t full of idiots like this one is.
Humming, I tap absently at the railing before piercing my nail through the metal and gouging a long scratch into it as I walk to the end of the bar. The odds are low they know I’m a vampire. Their hastily arranged plan is careless. With the element of surprise on my side, it’ll be easy for me to take each one of them on my own. It’s been too damn long since I’ve been able to release this pent-up energy. And so much longer since I’ve been able to drink my fill. My tongue grazes the sharp fang slightly puncturing my bottom lip.
To my right is a dark alley. The pack waits there, the ones who are determined to get revenge by scooping up their enemies’ mates. My eyes roll at their pathetic plan.
To my left is a winding dirt road sheltered in a dense forest. My panting pup chose to take that route so I wouldn’t see him following me around, the silly little thing. Well … not so little.
When these werewolves meet up, I’m sure blood will be shed. Four on one isn’t the best odds for my pup, although I’m interested in seeing how he’d fare. We’re in human territory, though. My lips purse at the thought; the coven will be pissed if I allow it. Not to mention the Authority.
I’ve never been much for the outdoors and seeing as how I’m in heels, I think I’ll head to my right. I wanted to have a little fun tonight anyway.
The only thing I’m not quite sure of is how much fun I’ll get to have before my pup catches up to me.
* * *
Vince
The alley is narrow and my clothing snags on the rough brick as I rush through to the other end. Hastily emerging from the shadows, my hoodie’s torn to shreds so I rip it off and leave it. The white Henley stretched tight across my chest has a small tear running across my abs and is stained with blood. That’s what I get from running recklessly through the wooded trails. I’ve already healed, though, and I don’t give a fuck. The scowl on my face, clenched fists, and white-hot anger pouring off me in waves complete the image of a pissed-the-fuck-off werewolf. If I could contain my anger to avoid scaring my mate I would, but I can’t. Four large frames are arranged in a loose semicircle at the end of the alley.
They have her surrounded.
I’ve never felt fear like I do now. Even more so, I’ve never felt rage as I do now.
My fists clench so hard that the skin on my knuckles tears and blood seeps from the self-induced wounds. A low growl of warning rips through my chest, reverberating in the air. All four of them lift their heads immediately, their eyes widening and mouths parting in either shock or an attempt to speak.
I don’t give the fuckers a chance to say a damn thing.
As I hurl my body toward them, I release my wolf, morphing into a beast of violence. Bones contort; fur emerges. The burning sensation and cracking in my ears fuel my desire to destroy. I’m fully wolf before all four paws land on the cold, hard ground. Snarling, I’m only vaguely aware of how this may frighten my mate. This isn’t how I’d planned on meeting her, on telling her who I am and what she means to me.
Regret doesn’t have a moment to linger. For now, I allow the fury to consume every thought and action, consequences be dammed. One of the four assholes attempts to shift, but he’s too slow as I immediately go for his throat. His claws dig into my shoulders, slicing through the tender flesh and scraping at the bone as my jaws sink into his throat, piercing his jugular and causing hot gushes of dirty blood to fill my mouth. I barely feel a damn thing. A low snarl leaves me as his body goes limp and I turn to the other three.