Chapter 11: Alpha’s Bane: Chapter 11

The black car is at it again, cruising slowly past my house while I watch through the blinds. I know it’s Nero. Stupid vampire has a death wish.

He’s going to find out I’m not a victim.

My phone rings with an unknown Tucson number. Could it be Trey? I’ve called him numerous times today, but he’s only sent me short text replies saying he’s up to his ears and will call me later.

“Hello?” I answer breathlessly.

“Sheridan.”

My shoulders slump. “Dad.”

Wait. I pull the phone away to check the screen again. “What are you doing with a Tucson number?”

“I’m in town on business. Pack business. Cleaning up the mess Garrett’s wolves have made.”

“Hey,” I defend. “That had nothing to do with pack business. It was the vampires messing with them. Don’t blame Garrett or his pack. They don’t deserve it.”

“So you say,” my dad sniffs. “But we are all involved now. I’m actually calling because I am hearing disturbing rumors of your behavior.”

“My behavior?” I got hot, then cold.

I’m a grown adult. I shouldn’t be worried that I upset my daddy.

“Yes, Sheridan. Rumors that you’ve been hanging around with the Robson boy.”

“He’s not a boy, Dad. He’s a man.” A big man. “And I’m an adult wolf. I can hang around whomever I want.”

“Not if you want to look responsible in the eyes of the pack.”

“What does it matter how I look? I am responsible. Besides, it’s not anyone’s business.”

“It is my business.” My father pulls out his stern voice. “I am your father.”

“Yes, but you don’t tell me who to mate.”

He sucks in a breath. “It’s that serious then?”

“Maybe.” Trey hasn’t returned my calls all day, but my dad doesn’t need to know that. “I thought you wanted grandpups.”

“With a good, upstanding wolf from a respectable pack. Not a…a…”

“Son of a factory worker?”

My father growls instead of answering.

“Owner of a shifter fight club?” My anger simmers. It’s about time I called my dad on his obsession with pack hierarchy. “Or is it the fact that he’s tattooed and owns a motorcycle that bothers you. ‘Cause you know who had tats and rode a bike? Your own son, that’s who.” I bite back my words before I say something I can’t take back. It’s not my folks’ fault my brother had a wild streak, that he died on his bike, doing what he loved.

“I know that,” my dad snarls. “It’s not any of those things. This Robson boy isn’t good enough for you.”

“Maybe not.” I slump onto my desk, suddenly tired. Why am I defending someone who marked me, but still hasn’t forgiven me? “He’s a business owner and loyal pack member, who stuck out his neck to follow his dream. Isn’t that worth something? Better than me, going to college and stepping into a position my dad pulled strings to get. It doesn’t matter what degrees I have, being your daughter got me my job and gets me my promotions. I work hard, but if I wasn’t a Green, I would have to work twice as hard to move up.” Which is what Trey’s done. “Maybe I should leave the brewery and get a starter position in another company. I might have to work the factory floor, but at least I’d know I earned it.”

“You are not going to throw your education away,” my dad snaps.

I shift on the desk and let the silence speak for me.

After a minute, my dad sighs. “Honey, you know I love you. I want what’s best for you.”

“I know.” I realize I’m toying with the wisdom quote calendar. I haven’t torn off the days in over a week. I knock it over instead. “Look, just let me do my job here? I’m doing my best. Do you trust me?”

When I finally get my dad off the phone, I shoot Trey a text. “Coming over tonight?” I wait for a minute, staring at the phone, but he doesn’t text back. The bite on my shoulder aches and I rub it soothingly.

Gnawing my lip, I check out the window. The black car is gone. Which reminds me—someone should go to Toxic and formally tell Frangelico about what happened today. Even if his spies reported all the details, the pack should make contact, and because I’ve already visited Toxic, is should be me. Garrett’s probably up to his eyeballs dealing with his dad. I shoot my cousin a quick text. By the time I’ve picked out an outfit—a practical black skirt and top that I could were to the U.N.—or a paranormal equivalent—Garrett’s texted back a green light. “Sounds good. Bring backup.”

Of course. Backup. I’ll just call Trey. It’s not like there’s anything complicated going on between me and him.

My mating mark throbs as the phone rings and goes to voicemail. Voicemail? Seriously?

I hang up and set the phone down instead of chunking it across the room. There. Nice and professional. No need to get emotional. It’s not like he’s avoiding me.

I spend a good long time blowing out my hair. I’m about to start makeup when a chirp from my phone has me fumbling to see who it is.

It’s an email from Garrett to the pack, informing us of a pack meeting. I’m bcc’d. Nice of him to include me. I forward it to my dad and let him know I’ll be attending to represent the Phoenix pack. Business concluded.

Trey still hasn’t texted. Should I try him again? Or give him a few more minutes to respond to my earlier attempts to contact him? I scroll through the day’s texts, mine growing more and more worried, his more terse until finally, he’s no longer answering.

That’s when it hits me. I’ve been played. Trey played me. I can just hear him now, What was I thinking? Banging a guy whose idea of a business is selling beer on the sidelines of illegal fights in a run down warehouse? I’m smarter than this. I have my freaking MBA.

I slam my phone down and grab my mascara wand, opening my eyes wide and swiping aggressively. Trey thinks he can sleep with me and then just ghost? I mean, it’s fine, it’s not like he marked me…Oh, wait. He did. He marked me. Like I’m his mate. He freaking marked me like I’m his mate and less than twenty four hours later he won’t even answer a freaking phone call when I need him.

Okay, calm down. I blink in the mirror, but my eyelashes stick together. Too much mascara. Never apply mascara while pissed. Too many layers makes eyelashes look like a sea urchin.

I’m being irrational. I know. But it’s been an emotional day. And I don’t like it when a guy promises to be with me forever by permanently scarring my skin, and then disappears. He gets a pass for having his new business and entire livelihood threatened. It’s rough. But if I was really his mate, wouldn’t he want to be with me?

I wash my face. I don’t have time for this. I have a meeting with Frangelico.

I hope the vampires like lots of eyeshadow and mascara, because tonight I am full on grunge. I swap out my sophisticated skirt for a shorter one, and my sensible shoes for Doc Martens. At the last minute I pull on Trey’s leather jacket because even though I am ready to run him over with my Mercedes, I still want to wrap myself in his scent. Stupid mating instinct.

The minute I enter the secret BDSM dungeon beneath the vampires’ club Toxic that night, I know I’ve made a mistake. Leeches are everywhere, dressed in dark suits with their fangs on display. They ooze around, chaining their victims to walls, tying them to tables, stretching them on racks. The humans sigh and moan and slump in subspace. I want to shake them, scream at them to run. Get all the humans out and set the place on fire.

This grim thought sustains me as I weave around the scenes to find the king.

Eventually, I find him perched on a heavy wooden throne in the middle of room, overlooking a pair of quivering submissives splayed on crosses. They’re being worked over by a large man in a black choker collar and leather harness, holding a violet wand.

An actual throne. Of course. I roll my eyes and march up to him, planting myself in front him. “We need to talk.” I may have used up the last vestiges of my tact trying to reach Trey.

The king raises a brow but signals to his servant, who lowers the wand.

“Here? Or shall we step into my office?”

I want privacy, but don’t really want to end up behind a closed door with a vampire. Lucius must see the struggle on my face, because he rises and claps his hands. “Let us walk together.”

To my surprise, he comes down from the raised platform and falls in next to me. He doesn’t offer me his arm, thank the fates, and doesn’t seem to mind that I keep my distance, plus fall back a little to keep him in my sights. We’re almost back to the front of the room, where some of the equipment has been moved to make room for a couch and two armchairs and a couple of small side tables, when I realize that I’m trailing behind him like a submissive.

Oh well. It’s not like I actually am submissive to him. If he thinks I’m gonna obey him, he’s got another think coming.

“What is this news?” Frangelico asks after we sit, and I decline his offer of a drink. I’m kinda proud I didn’t shudder. What do vampires want their guests to drink? Bloody Marys?

Settling into my armchair, I tell him about the body found at the fight club and the human investigation: the whole messy business.

To his credit, Frangelico listens to my whole tale, not interrupting. He doesn’t really change expression either. I bet he knows about the body—his spies are everywhere—but he plays along. Or maybe he is truly interested in how the werewolf pack is reacting to the whole mess. Plus the human angle—vampires are powerful, but they don’t reproduce quickly. Which is why humans actually present a threat to everything paranormal. In the long run, both vamps and weres are outnumbered.

When I’m done, I bite my tongue through a few nervous beats of silence as he seems to ponder everything.

“So why do you come to me? This investigation, do you wish me to stop it?”

“No, no,” I rush to say. “We’ll take care of it. My alpha—Alpha Green—is already on it.” I don’t want to sic the vampires on law enforcement. “I just want the bodies—these victims with fang marks—to stop. Could it be one of your people, uh, going too far when they drink?”

“My people are too well-trained. Some of them chafe at my restrictions, but they would not dare break my rules.” The king’s voice turns frightening. “If they have, they will not like the consequences.”

“Well.” I wait until my stomach has returned to its normal position before continuing. “I’m not accusing anyone. But if it’s not one from your nest, there’s a rogue vampire. I can’t imagine you’d be happy about that.”

“No,” Lucius practically hisses. “I would not.”

“Hello, little wolf.”

I crane my neck and Nero smirks down on me. “Oh hey.”

The lieutenant glides around my chair to give his king a short bow. Frangelico acknowledges it by slightly raising his forefinger. His face seems more impassive. Is he happy about this interruption?

“Our guest tells me a body with our markings was found at the shifter fight club. Do you know anything about this?”

“Of course.” Nero bows again. “I received reports earlier and am monitoring the situation. When we have more intel, we can find the one who trespassed your laws.”

“If it was one of mine, it would have been done on purpose,” Lucius says with perfect calm, but all the hair on my body rises. “A deliberate mockery of the peace I have ordered between my people and the wolves.”

Nero bows. When the king is upset, maybe it’s best to hold your tongue. I fold my hands in my lap and keep watching the vampires, while avoiding eye contact. Nero is dressed in his usual suit and cowboy boots, although he’s left off his jacket. His shirt sleeves are rolled up as if he just stepped out of a scene. He’d be hot, if he wasn’t a leech.

“Perhaps we can find a way to strengthen the truce,” Nero offers. I can’t believe he spoke up with his king seething. He swivels to me, smooth as a door on a well-oiled hinge, and treats me to a shallow bow. Not that the courtesy works on me. “You’ve shown great willingness to deal with our nest. I’d love you to accompany me to an event our club is sponsoring downtown.”

“What?” I ask dryly, pretending nonchalance at getting an invitation from a vampire. “Like a blood drive?”

Both Lucius and Nero laugh horribly.

“Your sense of humor is exquisite.” Nero makes a show of wiping his eyes with a lace handkerchief. “Not a blood drive. A free nighttime concert by one of our more talented…ah…protégés.”

I blink, not sure if I’m more disturbed that he has extended an invitation to me, or that Toxic is sponsoring a concert for humans, or that they have protégés. The event sounds like a trap for unsuspecting victims.

“I would be honored if you’d accompany me,” Nero continues.

I tilt my head, trying to make sense of this. “What, like a date?” My brain is still scrambling to catch up.

“If you like.”

“I’m not one of your victims,” I growl. What does he think, he can wine and dine me and then convince me to come back for a scene so he can wine and dine on me?

“Of course not.” His smile says otherwise. “It would be a simple experiment. We can prove that vampires and wolves can enjoy each other’s company. We would be seen together as equals.”

I press my lips together, trying to figure out the angle. Nero is obsessed with me. How will the pack take it if I step out with him? Will they see it as a play for peace, or a sign that I’m in thrall? How will Garrett and his pack see it?

More importantly, how will Trey?

“Let me get this straight. You invited me to a concert. You and I would go out together to see and be seen. And then what?”

“We would see where things lead.” Nero sketches an eloquent gesture with his hands.

I shake my head. I’m getting a little muzzy. “Sounds like a date.”

“It can be a date,” Nero’s voice mesmerizes me. “If you want it to be.”

I’m about to answer when a shadow falls between us.

“Fuck no.” A big guy barrels down on us from the direction of the staircase. His scent slams into me a second before he comes into the light, every angle of his face tense and livid.

“Trey,” I gasp as he inserts himself between me and the vampire in shirtsleeves. They’re both tall, but Trey is bigger, bulkier, and madder than a wolf whose missed his prey.

Trey’s scent swarms my senses and my head clears.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing, leech?” Trey growls.

“Making polite conversation with a lady. What’s it to you, dog?”

“She’s not going anywhere with you. She’s mine.”

I touch the place on my neck where he marked me, and warmth pours through me. A sense of rightness. My head clears even more.

The two glare at each other. Beyond them, Frangelico hasn’t moved. He looks almost amused.

Nero looks smug. “My invitation wasn’t to you, but to the lady.”

“That’s it,” Trey snarls. “You’re going down. I challenge you to a fight.”

“Trey, what are you doing?” I whisper. At the sight of Trey, big and bold and present, all my earlier rage disappears. Crazy emotions are crazy.

“You, challenge a vampire?” Nero’s laugh could curdle milk. “How amusing.”

“One hour,” Trey grits out. “At the arroyo.”

“What,” I gasp. “No. This is stupid—”

“Done,” Nero spits. He disappears and reappears behind his king’s seat.

“I do not allow my children to fight,” Frangelico says. His face is blanker than usual. Maybe he’s not happy at Nero’s antics, either. “But he can sponsor a substitute.”

“I won’t fight one of your poor victims,” Trey snaps.

“Oh, do not worry, wolf,” Nero laughs. “My second will be a shifter. A fighter that is your equal. Or better.”

I know it’s stupid, but challenging that vampire and making him back down, hide behind his king? It felt good. Sucker has a death wish. Ever since he approached Sheridan at the club, I’ve been dying to stake him.

Fates, she was nearly under his spell. I had to do something before Nero stuck his fangs where they don’t belong. Sheridan and I might be at odds, but she’s mine.

“You were not invited here,” Nero hisses at me.

I fold my arms over my chest. “I belong with Sheridan. Where she goes, I go. She’s under my protection.”

“Could’ve fooled me, dog.”

I growl at him, and Sheridan grabs my arm. “Trey, no. It’s not worth it.”

I shake her off, ready to go after Nero. Leech won’t be so smug when I have my teeth at his throat. Sure, he can appear and disappear at will, but eventually that little trick will tire him out, and when it does, I’ll be ready.

“Trey, please.” Sheridan touches my back. Her voice cracks a little. “Get me out of here. I want to go.”

Fuck. I can’t refuse her. “This isn’t over.” I point at Nero, who just laughs. Frangelico turns his ultra blank face towards his lieutenant and mouths something before disappearing.

“Fuck that’s creepy,” I say to the empty air where the king stood seconds before. “Come on, Sheridan.” I put my arm around her shoulders and she slumps in relief. We hustle all the way up the stairs, out the club and to her car. She turns and leans against her door.

“You okay?” I ask, settling my hands on her hips.

“Yes. You?”

“Yep.”

“Thank the fates.” She touches my cheek as if checking for damage, then slaps me.

“What the fuck?” I bite back my chuckle because I can tell she’s really mad. Plus, it’s really cute when she’s worried about me.

“What were you thinking? Leaving me all day without answering my calls? Then bursting into my meeting and challenging a vampire? Are you insane?”

I grit my teeth because I wanted to return all those texts and calls, especially the one asking me if I’d spend the night. But I couldn’t. I’m not right for Sheridan. She’ll figure it out if I distance myself. “I am protecting you.”

“I can protect myself.” She stamps her foot. “That’s why my pack sent me. Remember?”

My amusement vanishes, replaced by that same sick feeling I’ve had since the call came in this morning about the body. “Oh, I haven’t forgotten whose side you’re on.”

“Oh that’s rich. This isn’t about pack politics. I’m on your side, Trey. Trying to keep us all from getting killed by leeches. Of course, it’s a little hard when you just volunteered.”

“He put his hands on you. I couldn’t allow that.” I bite back the words Her gaze narrows as if she heard them. “I had it under control. Lucius won’t let him harm me.”

I bare my teeth at hearing her call the leech by his first name. “You put a lot of trust in the vampire.”

“He and I were the only sane ones in there.” She shakes her head, eyes sparking. Damn, she’s hot when she’s mad. “How’d you know I was here, anyway?”

“Tracked your phone.”

Her mouth drops open.

I shrug. “You can learn a few things outside of college, too.”

“I don’t question your intelligence,” she protests. “At least, I didn’t until you burst into Toxic and challenged a leech to a fight. What were you thinking?”

My wolf is still bristling and possessive, so I can’t help but snap, “You saying I can’t fight?”

She blows out a breath. “No, Trey. This isn’t a male ego thing. Nero is dangerous.”

I shrug. If Nero shows up, I’ll have garlic and a stake ready.

“I can’t believe this.” Sheridan throws her hands up. “He could kill you!”

“I thought you said Lucius won’t let him.”

Sheridan growls.

“Sweetheart, I got it under control.” Not really, but imagining ways to hurt the vampire will satisfy some of my wolf’s bloodlust. “It’s nice that you care.”

“Whatever.” Sheridan folds her arms under her boobs. Unfortunately, it just pushes them up higher. “The fight’s not going to happen. There’s no shifter who will agree to fight for a vampire.”

“We’ll see. I gotta go. Not gonna be late to my own challenge.”

“Trey, this is just stupid!”

“It’s my honor and it’s over you.” I mount my bike and face her. Whatever she sees in my expression makes her flinch. “Not stupid to me.”