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“WATCH OUT!"
His roar got lost in ashes and blaze. Another explosion rang nearby – too close. Tristan crouched to the ground, trying to stay out of the line of fire without losing sight of the combatants.
I need higher ground, he thought.
A quick glance around confirmed no one could see him. His fellow soldiers were taking heavy fire from snipers set up above buildings. Their mission had been simple – extract some information from a confidential informant. Only, it seemed to have been an ambush or their communications had been intercepted. Either way, Tristan had found himself outmanned, outgunned, and quickly separated from his peers.
Only one way out of this.
He hated taking chances, but if he wanted to survive, he had to. And though Tristan didn’t have anyone to return to back home – not anymore, at least – he still preferred to live. So he ducked behind a Jeep and shed his clothes, dropping the two guns he’d confiscated off his attackers on the ground.
Then he crouched low, low... And let his wolf out.
The change came over him in a wave, leaving him shuddering and gasping. Then he was wolf, blending with the darkness. His ashy coat made for great camouflage in the darkness, but still he focused on his paws, trying to lower his bulk. On a regular day, he was the size of a small bear, and it would make him too easy a target.
Finally, content with his size, he picked the two weapons up in his mouth and trotted into the distance. Into a building. Up some stairs. A glance around confirmed he was alone, and he shifted back to human.
Naked, Tristan lowered himself onto the dusty ground and hoisted the weapon, taking aim. Perfect line of sight. Snip. Snip. Snip.
Bullets whizzed out of the gun, hitting each target in turn. The fight was done before it was truly started.
∞ ♦ ∞
“A commendation, huh?” His buddy, Ash, grinned and lifted his tainted whiskey glass. “Good on you, Tris.”
Tristan rolled his eyes, then took a big gulp out of a plastic cup. “Not like I did much. Shouldn’t be this big a deal.”
Ash gave him a look. “Are you serious right now? We walked into an ambush. I know your Brazilian blood’s got you cool as a cucumber, but we would’ve all been dead if you hadn’t managed to get high ground and cover us.” His voice got hoarser with emotion. “Make no mistake, Tristan. It’s well deserved and all the guys will back me up on this.”
Tristan looked to his drink, scratching the back of his head. Uncomfortable was an understatement for how he felt. No one in his unit knew what he was – what he could do. It was probably best that way. Yet it also made for moments like these, where he didn’t really feel like the praise was deserved.
A rookie walked in, meeting his gaze nervously. “The CO wants to see you, sir.”
Tristan nodded and stood. Straightening his clothes, he downed the rest of his drink, then swished some water in his mouth and spit. Before leaving the tent, he arched an eyebrow at Ash. “Oy, meu amigo? Leave the kid alone, dumbass.”
Ash tended to get snippy with rookies. He took too much pleasure torturing them. His reasoning was that they needed to toughen up. And while Tristan technically agreed, after that evening’s events, he felt they’d all deserved some leeway.
The commanding officer’s tent was nothing compared to the man standing in the middle. Tall, broad of shoulders, head shaved, he was imposing. When he turned, the CO’s blue eyes were icy, though a smile tugged at his lips.
“Tristan Cayne, is it?”
“Yes, sir!” Tristan saluted.
After a beat, an extra hard stare, the CO nodded. “At ease, soldier.”
Tristan didn't relax. He never could, not around a superior. But he did allow himself a breath as he waited to be spoken to.
“How old are you, son?”
“Twenty-three, sir.”
Another nod, more speculative than anything. “By the by, the name’s Blake, not ‘sir’.” Ignoring Tristan’s stunned expression, he continued, “What you did today is admirable. A lesser man might not have pulled it off."
Silence extended between them, with Tristan struggling to find a reason for the meeting – and failing. Just as he was about to break protocol and ask, Blake said, “Then again, you’re no man, are you?”
Tristan’s jaw went slack. “Como...” He caught himself from entering into his native tongue, and instead tried again. “How did you find out?”
Blake grinned, for real this time. “I knew it since the beginning, son. I was waiting to see if you’d pick up on mine.”
Tristan couldn’t help narrowing his eyes. “Yours, sir?”
The CO stared at him for a long moment. Something shifted in the air, an impenetrable quality that once it hit Tristan’s nose, had him take a step back. His eyes went wide as he picked up a scent that hadn’t been there before. “What the...”
“That’s me, son. Also a wolf.”
“Mas.. And you can mask your scent?”
“Bet your ass I can.”
“Why tell me all this?”
“I want you to come work with me.”
Tristan frowned. “All due respect, but I already do, sir.”
“No, son. I’m putting together a new unit. There are creatures in the night that no one can fight, and someone has to. We’ll be it.”
A chance to be free, to be who he was meant to be? Tristan didn’t hesitate. “Where do I sign up?”
Blake’s satisfied expression answered before his words registered. “You just did.”
∞ ♦ ∞
Cold air hit his skin. A frigid wind had picked up and was getting worse. Tristan huddled deeper into his coat. He’d never been cold in his life, but this was new. It had been hell since the chopper had dropped them smack in the middle of Siberia. That had been a week earlier. Blake hadn’t said what they were hunting, only that they’d be briefed closer to the town.
Tristan still waited. He breathed in again, feeling the bitter air burn through his insides. Mutters around him made him chuckle under his breath. Blake had recruited some rookies too – more wolves – and they weren’t too happy about being yanked to some cold-ass place.
Then the air around him shifted and he stopped laughing. His ears perked, and though he didn’t move, he tried to figure out what the hell he’d picked up on.
The glow caught his attention first, over by a tree. When Tristan looked that way, the woman’s beauty struck him dumb. Long, flowing blonde hair to her waist. Beautiful blue eyes, features as sharp as a princess. She smiled, and he thought he saw a hint of fangs, but was too focused on her blood red lips.
One pale hand encased in silk lifted up to summon him, and he didn’t hesitate. Got to his feet, forgetting about his watching post. All he cared about was getting closer to her.
With each crunch of the snow, he inched nearer. Her body was shimmering under the white gown, and her eyes flashed in anticipation.
“Come to me, yes...” The words were spoken in another language, but he knew their meaning.
And then he was there and she was touching his cheek, moving his chin to the side. And Tristan couldn’t move... Smelling her sugary fragrance... And then something else. Something deeper. A rotting scent.
He tried to pull back, but she was strong. Then a whizz went through the air, and she slackened against him. A second later, she fell to the snow, and curled into herself like paper burning.
Mere moments later, only a wooden stake was left of her. He blinked and glanced around. His eyes landed on Blake, who was panting. He’d been the one to throw the stake.
“Congratulations, son. You found our target.”
Tristan looked back at what remained of the bundle. “Puta merda... What was that?”
“Something better suited for Hell. Fancy a fire?”
∞ ♦ ∞
“They’re coming!”
Tristan was up in an instant, Blake’s voice being the wake-up call. Humidity filled the air, and he was already covered in sweat. They were deep in the Amazonian jungle this time, hunting a type of shifter that had taken to cannibalism.
Shaking sleep out of his eyes, Tristan grabbed the hunting knife by his side. This time, he wouldn’t be taken unawares. He glanced around, noticing his fellow soldiers crouched, ready to strike. Each one had similar knives in their hands and mirroring expressions of determination.
Human weapons were no use against these creatures – but sterling silver was. So Tristan crouched under the bush, blending in with his camouflage, barely breathing, waiting for the first one. When the bear-like thing passed through, Tristan jumped on its back. Undaunted by its massive size – easily twice his – he dug the knife through fur and hardened skin. A howl more human than animal tore from the creature’s throat. Similar ones echoed all around, as more bears were attacked by Tristan’s pack.
Then the animal under him shook him off, trampled on him. Tristan landed on his back – hard. In the next breath, he was rolling over, switching to wolf and attacking the bear full on. There was only one way the fight would end – to the death.
Later, filled with blood, he discarded the corpse and shuffled to his commander. Blake was busy cleaning his knife on a carcass.
A shadow moved from the corner of his eye, and Tristan stopped in his tracks. Hidden in the bushes was a child. No more than six or seven years old, he had long hair and was only wearing some kind of animal skin wrapped around his lower body. But it wasn’t his appearance that struck Tristan, rather, it was his eyes. They were filled with sorrow, tears streaming down his cheeks, as he looked upon the battle scene and held back his cries.
When he noticed Tristan staring at him, he took a step back. That, more than anything, made the soldier realize the truth. The bears he’d helped kill.... they were the child’s kin. Not mindless creatures, after all.
“Cayne, you coming?”
He glanced away for a second at the shout. By the time he looked back, the young boy was gone.
It was with a heavy heart that Tristan headed closer. The adrenaline of the battle was gone, as was the satisfaction of having rid the world of evil. Because how could they, when they’d caused that much pain to someone so innocent?
And still, when he met Blake’s firm gaze and unwavering belief in the mission, Tristan’s doubts washed away. “What's next, sir?”
“Hungary.”
∞ ♦ ∞
Days turned into weeks. Weeks into months. Soon, a year had passed since Tristan had entered Blake’s special unit. They’d been through countless countries, some remote, others full front and center of the action. They’d crossed every continent, every ocean, and still there was no lack of creatures to kill. Blake had informants and wherever they were called, they went. In time, the ten soldiers they had originally left with trimmed down to seven, then five. All killed in action.
At night, Tristan thought of those fallen comrades. Of their families waiting back home, about to get the obligatory visit from the service men. What would they be told? Some bullshit excuse that they’d served their country. But was it really true? Nothing they did was sanctioned from higher up. No one wanted to be aware of just how inconsequential human leaders were, when the rest of the world was populated by creatures of nightmares. And in the end, did it really matter? If the families knew the true story behind the deaths of their loved ones, would it truly help the pain?
Though he wasn’t in charge of the men, Tristan felt each and every one of their losses. Their shouts of agony kept him up at night, and their spirits always felt like they were surrounding him.
And lately, it was more than that. More than the soldiers’ shouts. He dreamed of the creatures they killed. Feared them. Dreaded them. And sometimes pitied them. Months had passed and still he remembered that little boy in the jungle, and wondered if he’d survived on his own.
One such night, as he was going through a bottle of cheap scotch trying to make himself sleepy, Blake came by.
“You’ll want to go easy on that, son. Big day tomorrow.”
Tristan glanced at him out of the corner of his eye. “Não... I’ll be fine.”
“I’ve no doubt about it. You never failed me. But you should watch yourself nonetheless.”
Tristan looked at the bottle, then took a big swig. He purposefully avoided looking at his commander, for fear of what he’d see in his expression. But when Blake turned as if about to leave, he called out to him. “Espera... Wait. What...What happens to them?”
A silence. “Who?”
“The families of the men who die with us.”
A sharp inhale was his response, followed by a long sigh. “Is that what’s keeping you up at night?”
“Talvez...” Maybe.
Blake sat next to him and held out his hand. It took Tristan a moment to realize he was asking for the drink. Once the commander had a swig, he passed the bottle back to Tristan.
“Nasty stuff, that.”
Tristan shrugged. “They call it ţuică here. Some kind of Romanian vodka.” He hesitated, then pressed his earlier point. “The families, sir?”
“Yeah, they keep me up at night, too. There’s no easy answer, son. They’re informed of the death, not of the circumstances. I’ve ensured the pension of each soldier is topped off with a sizeable anonymous donation that will ensure their financial ease, at least. But it’s nothing compared to the emotional scar of having someone never come back.”
Something in his tone made Tristan’s ears perk. “Do you have family waiting for you, sir?”
A bitter laugh. “A while back, I did. Then the wife left. And my son.... He’s the reason I’m doing this to begin with.”
Another swig of alcohol. “He served, too, you see. And after a tour, he was ready to come back home with only a concussion. Then the makeshift hospital he was in was attacked in the middle of the night by bloodthirsty demons. No one was prepared. My son protected the humans, put his life on the line, and died doing so. Without him, they didn’t stand a chance. It was a massacre, all caught on video.” Another pause. Another swig. “So the day I buried him, I made a promise to myself. That no other father will know that pain so long as I’m alive. And I know I can’t catch them all... but the more I do catch, the easier it gets, and the safer it’ll be.”
Tristan weighed his words. “And you never doubt that what we’re doing is wrong? That maybe by hunting all these creatures, we’re creating more?”
The colonel laughed. “You’ve had too much of this, son.” He stood and walked away. Before entering the tent, he whispered, “I never doubt. Because in this world, to doubt is to open yourself up to weakness. And the mission is too important.”
Tristan stayed gazing at the mountains a bit longer, until his eyes were playing tricks on him and he was seeing things where there were only shadows. Finally, he went to sleep.
∞ ♦ ∞
“Wake up, soldier.”
Tristan got up, blinking. It couldn’t have been longer than a few hours since he’d fallen asleep. His CO was standing over him, hand on his gun, glancing around.
“Que... What’s going on?” Tristan jumped to his feet, eyes seeking danger.
“We’ve been made. And there’s another problem, another incident taking place a couple countries down. I got the call this morning. We need to head over to Greece.”
“What about the vârcolaci around here?”
The CO scowled. “Not as big of a priority as what’s home.”
“Greece, you mean?” When he nodded, Tristan pressed, “What is it?”
“Something way worse than some Romanian wolves running rogue.”
Less than an hour later, a car came to pick them up in the mountains and drove them to a small field where a plane was waiting. Then they were up in the air, heading for another mission.
In Greece, they landed outside a tiny village, way off the map. Tristan didn’t know his way around, but Blake was home. He joked around with locals, and even as they passed through seemed to belong. Since night was coming and they couldn’t room with the humans, the CO gave orders to sleep under the starry skies. Still exhausted from many restless nights, Tristan passed out on the soft grass.
It was the smell that woke him up, though he would forever blame himself for not hearing the villagers cries in the night. But the smell... Charred flesh, rotten corpses, and death itself. Gagging, Tristan woke up and immediately knew something was wrong. The rest of his unit was asleep. He jostled them up, then didn’t waste time. Grabbed his gun and crouched into town.
They were everywhere. Larger than dogs, with black, matted fur and yellow eyes. One seemed to lead them, with a white line of fur on his chest. Tristan tried to aim for him, but missed. Instead the creatures turned to him. No matter how many bullets he fired, he couldn’t kill them.
One in particular was heading for him, its head bowed low, beady yellow eyes tinged with red intent on him. Tristan saw his life flash before his eyes. Just as the creature lunged, someone moved from the side. A wooden stake was driven in the creature’s chest. And Tristan stared in awe at the old man who had done it. He caught him as he fell, but he could do nothing to help him. His weary eyes met Tristan’s and he whispered one word, “Vrykolakas...”
Growls to the side drew his attention. Tristan moved the old man off him and grabbed the stake. The creature was dead, but too many were around. He heard bullets whizz past him and turned to his men. “Stakes! Forget the bullets, use your stakes!”
Then he joined in the fray and tried to dig into as many creatures as he could. Bodies of innocent villagers littered the ground, gutted like fish, big holes where their organs had been. Tristan didn’t know the creatures enough to understand what they sought, but he could tell they had just encountered some of the Earth’s foulest demons.
Then a creature moved from the shadows, its jaws bloody. He backed away, stunned at the sheer amount of violence and bloodthirst displayed. Then Blake moved from the side and went right at it – and a fight to the death ensued.
Tristan engaged two other vrykolakas that tried to attack Blake from behind. He thought he’d gotten all of them, panting as he removed the stake from the last one. A gurgle from behind had him freeze. By the time he looked back, Blake was holding his stomach, his eyes wide, face growing paler by the second. He let go... Only to show his intestines. He’d been gutted open, like the rest of the villagers.
"NO!" Tristan roared. He shifted then, taking on the creatures by himself with no care for his own safety. The remainder of the soldiers around them – two or three – did the same and followed his lead. Being in their primal form afforded them a wider range of movements, and protection. There was also the fact his wolf wanted vengeance – and survival.
One by one, the last standing vrykolakas took off – including the one with the white streak. Tristan limped back to Blake’s body, dragging his bleeding flank.
His commander looked at him, lifted a hand as if to touch him. “You did good, son,” he whispered. Then the hand dropped, and he exhaled his last breath.
Tristan nudged him with his muzzle, but it was too late. The scent of his corpse permeated the air, and the two remaining wolves by his side noticed it as well. Their whimpers echoed his, and they stood in silence for a long moment.
Then Tristan turned his head to his flank and licked it a few times. The healing properties in his saliva did easy work of the wound, and he was able to shift back to human. His gaze fell once more on Blake. He’d been a mentor, a friend, a leader into a world that was darker than most knew. And now...
Tristan didn’t get to mourn. Though the creatures had taken off, his remaining companions were there behind him, having also shifted back to human form. “Where do we go from here?”
Blake’s unseeing eyes held Tristan’s as he felt the weight of the world on his shoulders.
“Home.” Wherever the hell that is.
∞ ♦ ∞
“Are you sure about this, soldier? Your skills could be of use.”
The man behind the desk sounded clichéd, even to a soldier. Tristan arched an eyebrow, trying to avoid being bitter. “Oh, yeah? Even if the shrink called me a nutcase?”
He’d been put through a mandatory psych consult following Blake’s death. The human psychiatrist had tried to apply methods and logic to something that defied it, and his advice had been more useless and vapid than this new leader’s offer.
When he looked away, Tristan knew what the gesture meant. He gritted his teeth and hissed, “Não, thanks.”
He’d given enough.
∞ ♦ ∞
The airport was noisy. Too many people, too many screams. Flashes burst through his head, and Tristan rushed into the nearest washroom. How could it be only minutes since he'd landed, but it felt like he was suffocating? Where else could he go?
Upon exiting, he noticed a sign for trains. His feet moved him there, and before he knew it he’d booked a ticket. At the next station, he took a bus. And before long, he found himself in the middle of nowhere, on a half-empty bus, with only his backpack and wallet.
Sleep took him, but within moments he was awake – biting back a scream. He dug his nails in his palms, forcing his eyes to see past the craziness in his mind, and more into the reality of the night. Nothing helped, and the same creatures he'd hunted flashed in front of his eyes.
By the time he got off the bus, his muscles were protesting, and his eyes felt like he'd rubbed sand over them. The moment he stepped on the ground, though, something shifted. An odd sense of...order.
Without knowing where he was headed, Tristan walked into town - straight for the nearest bar. The neon sign spelled The Cave, and for the first time, a chuckle escaped him. He walked in, ignoring the curious gazes he drew and signaled the bartender. “Scotch on the rocks.”
He was served within a moment, and took a seat. Another man was seated near him, and reached out to shake his hand. “Name’s Finn McConnell.”
Tristan grasped it – and froze. “Tristan Cayne,” he managed, trying to ignore what he smelled.
The other grinned. “No need to go all nutter. I caught your scent when you walked in.”
Tristan frowned. “What are you?”
“A faoladh.” When he shrugged at the name, the Irish said, “A Celtic werewolf. Let's just say I’ve got a few extra things under my belt.”
Tristan smirked at that, thinking of his own abilities. “You may not be alone. I'm a lopisomem.”
An eyebrow arched. “No shite... Interesting. So. What brings you here?”
Tristan looked around. “Same as you, suponho. Nowhere else to go.”
Finn snorted in his drink and signaled for another. “Got that right, mate.”
∞ ♦ ∞
“So what the hell do we do? Stick around?”
Tristan toyed with his drink. They’d been at it for hours, and he felt like he knew the Irish –whatever he was. It still didn’t explain why he’d ended up in this town, but then again, life had its ways.
“According to you, we wait. But for what?”
Finn narrowed his eyes at the question, then his expression cleared. “For that.”
That same moment, the bar door opened and in walked two other guys. Both were tall, one with dark hair, the other blond. Identical stubborn expressions. The dark-haired one sniffed the air, then whispered to the other. The blond nodded, then his eyes narrowed in on the bar. They approached slowly.
Tristan stood, muscles corded. The smell rolling off the blond guy... His fingers twitched for a gun, or better yet, a stake. It was a scent he’d caught before. “If it’s a fight you want, it’s one you’ll get.”
Finn didn’t move from his spot, not really. Yet he reached out to Tristan and tapped his shoulder, as if to get his attention. The touch did something – pulled the tension off him, enough so he ground his teeth less.
Before he could ask the Irish what he’d done, the dark-haired man smirked. Spreading his palms, he looked at each of them in turn. Then the smirk turned into a cold smile.
“My name is Lucas Bianchi, and I do believe you’re on my territory.”
∞ ♦ ∞
Tristan’s demons follow him to his new home... Can love provide the ultimate healing? Or will it only end in more suffering and betrayal?
(Flip the page for a preview!)
Or continue with the epilogue of Moonlight Rogues: Origins
They say blood is thicker than water...But what if family's the source of your pain?
Tristan
I swore I was done with love, after my last failed relationship. Being a soldier means making the tough decisions, all for the good of the pack. So when a little miss full of attitude waltzes in, dragging a shitload of trouble with her, I want nothing more than to make that tough decision and kick her the hell out. But then she turns those big, helpless eyes on me, and my wolf roars otherwise. Shit-of-fuck but now I'm screwed.... And her family seriously has a screw loose. To make it worse? We have history.
Daniela
You'd think running away from a psycho family would swear me off relationships for good. Guess what? So did I. In fact, I specifically sought Tristan out because he's the type I'd never be with. Too much of everything, if you get my gist – attitude included. So why is it when he starts acting all protector, I can't help but swoon? His dark secrets don't scare me as much as this sudden tornado within me. This was not in the plans... And I might just have to make a run for it. But will he let me?
∞ ♦ ∞ PREVIEW ∞ ♦ ∞
Tristan
I shouldn’t have picked up the damn phone. Better still, I should’ve thrown it away when I left that cursed town. Why didn’t I change my number? Out of some misplaced nostalgia that’s now biting me in the ass?
Merda! My hands tighten on the steering wheel and I do everything I can to avoid looking at Dani.
It wasn’t meant to be easy, our reunion. Not when she’s the exact copy of Izabella. And the last time I’d seen my ex, it had been with her legs up in the air and the pack’s beta between them.
“I can feel your anger, you know,” Dani whispers.
She’s staring out the window, head tilted to the side as if hiding her face from me. And my stomach churns. She doesn’t deserve this – paying for her sister’s mistake. It was Izabella who drove me out of town, her I have an issue with.
Dani... She’s only ever been good to me.
A heavy sigh escapes my lips and I pull the car over to the side of the road. I’m still clenching the steering wheel, taking deep breaths to rein myself in. A tantrum will only spark my wolf into morphing, and that’s a pain I don’t need right now.
Headlights in the distance come closer, and at first I only notice them out of the corner of my eye. Some stupid car with their lights still on during the day. Then I take a closer look, and the glare sparks another memory.
The headlights. The desert. Middle of the night. So much blood....
“Tristan?”
Dani’s voice gets through the fog and I snap to. She’s reaching out for me again and I jerk away, slamming into the driver’s window. She looks shocked – and I can’t really blame her. It’s the second time I’ve done this, without much explanation. But I’m seeing those curls again, the eyes, the mouth, and my mind is somewhere else.
“I’m not her, you know.” It’s another whisper, this one bitterer.
“I know.”
Dani looks away. A beat of silence stretches between us before she finally speaks. “This was a bad idea, but I didn’t have a choice. I know you have your new pack, and I was hoping for protection.”
The soldier in me stands to attention. “From what?”
A shudder runs through her, and the fear emanating from Dani is tangible, enough to taste. This is the same girl who used to believe in fairies and unicorns when she was young, and promised to forever be by her family’s side.
What could have scared her so much, enough to leave Bow’s Arrow? The mystery nags at me, and I have a feeling I won’t like it when I solve it.
Not that Dani’s making it any easier for me. She’s silent for so long I don’t think she’ll answer me. When she does, it’s not what I expect.
“You’ve made it clear I’m an inconvenience, so I won’t bother you further. Just bring me to the alpha of this town and I’ll plead my case to him directly.”
I straighten from my hunched up position by the window. “Dani, I–”
“No.” Her eyes flash my way, the amber darker – wary. “I didn’t come here to hatch up old history. And judging by your scent, you can’t give me what I want anyway. So let’s cut the bull, and bring me to your alpha.”
Being dismissed like this doesn’t come easily, especially not from her. This isn’t the young woman I left behind, she’s cutthroat and...
“What happened to you?” The question pushes unbidden past my lips, but it’s too late to take it back.
Dani’s expression shutters and she turns away from me. “I grew up.”
Her entire body language is meant to block me. And for a moment, I want nothing more than to shake some sense into her. What no one has done with me, when this gripping dread takes hold of me. But I also know it’s the dread that keeps me going, like a comfort blanket.
So I keep further questions to myself and put the car back in gear without a word.
Daniela
I should’ve known this wouldn’t be easy. Heaving back a sigh, I try to tune Tristan out.
It’s hard. I haven’t been around a werewolf like him for a while, and my senses are tingling. He should be forbidden fruit, but it’s not like Izabella’s around to care.
And for a moment there, he looked at me – really looked at me. Like he saw me, not some ghost of his ex-lover. Maybe things would be settled if he knew the truth once and for all... But I doubt it.
Plus, if Tristan knew everything that happened since he left Bow’s Arrow, he wouldn’t help me. He’d be too focused on seeking revenge, and probably die in the process. And that’s a chance I can’t take.
After long moments of silent driving, he pulls in front of what looks like a bar. A neon light spells out The Cave and the building looks old, some colonial antique style. Tristan gets out of the car, and I follow him inside.
“What is this place?” I ask him, expecting he won’t answer. “Why are we here, Tristan?”
He throws me a look. “To meet some people.” Then he heads in, and I’ve no choice but to follow.
The place is less crowded than I’d thought. Dismissing the bar, Tristan heads straight for a corner booth where two other guys are seated, along with a female, eating some kind of brunch. Their wolf scents hit me from a distance – except for her. She’s human.
Tristan stops dead in his tracks and whirls to me. “Yeah, she is. And under the protection of our pack, so lay off it, Dani.”
He turns away without giving me a chance to explain and I gape after him. Then I shake myself out of the daze. This can’t be normal, him hearing my thoughts. Can it?
Something nags at the back of my mind. Our pack was tight-knit, but a connection like this would come only from something deeper. And Tristan left long ago, so there’s no way any of that remains between him and any wolf in Bow’s Arrow... If it does, I’m double screwed.
Instead of focusing on things I can’t control, my gaze falls on Tristan’s new pack. The redhead is leaning against one of the guys – blonde and blue-eyed, he’s a straight Apollo. He notices us first, and surprise flickers in his eyes before a smirk tugs at his lips. Tristan’s by their table now, and I reluctantly trail behind him.
“So that’s where you disappeared to, mate?” The question’s from the second male. With his dark hair and green eyes, I would’ve pegged him for a Celt even without the Irish lilt in his voice. It makes me uneasy, being around a wolf with his capacities. If he figures out what I can do...
“Bite me, Finn,” Tristan near-growls. He reaches behind him without looking and grasps my hand, pulling me forward. I nearly stumble into the table, but catch myself in time. It’s uncanny how he knew exactly where to reach for me.
Oblivious to my stupefaction, Tristan introduces me. “This is Daniela Da Silva, an old friend. She needs to speak to Lucas. Where is he?”
Three pairs of interested eyes turn on me, but it’s the redhead who speaks first. She stands and smiles broadly, holding out her hand. I hesitantly shake it. “I’m Lucrezia – but everyone calls me Luz. This is Dominic – Dom – Konstantin, my boyfriend, and Finn McConnell.” She introduces first the blonde-haired guy by her side, then the Celt.
I nod at each of them, then bite my lip. How much does she know, and what can I say in front of her? This is why I avoid packs. Especially packs with mated females. The bond between her and Dom is strong enough even I, a stranger, can feel it.
The Celt speaks next, probably sensing my discomfort. “Luz knows about us, so feel free to speak your mind around her.”
A relieved sigh escapes me. “I’ve travelled a way from my old town, and I’m afraid only your alpha can help. Is he around?”
I notice the glance between Dom and Tristan, before his light blue eyes settle on me. “Lucas is unavailable for the day, perhaps a bit longer. Other business has him occupied. I’m his beta, perhaps I can help?”
While I appreciate the thought, I’m shaking my head before he’s done. “I’m here to ask for protection, but the details are too sensitive to share around.” I bite my lip again. “The less you know, the better off you’ll be.”
Rather than dissuade them, my words only spark curiosity in all of them. Shit.
Tristan snorts by my side and mutters something akin to, “Welcome to my world.” Then he addresses Dom. “I’ll get Dani a drink.”
“She could join us,” Luz offers.
They may not see the tension in Tristan, but I do. And the last bit of hope I had about him being okay with my presence here crumbles to dust. “It’s okay,” I smile feebly, then turn to the bar before they can see my tears.
“Two whiskeys,” Tristan orders by my side, then takes a seat next to me. I guess people in Rockland Creek make it a habit of drinking during the day, because the bartender doesn’t even blink.
“I don’t need you to babysit me,” I whisper into my drink.
“Doubt that.”
His mutter aggravates me more than I can say. I throw back the drink, then stand. Even with me upright, we’re barely eye level. Damn him and his height – and those malditos broad shoulders that draw my attention every two seconds like clockwork.
“You know what, Tristan? Call me when your alpha’s around. I don’t want to impose in the meantime.”
His eyes narrow on me, glinting molten chocolate in this light. “What the hell are you going on about, carinho?”
I shove his chest – hard. Not that it has any effect on him. “Don’t freaking call me darling. I’m not Izabella.”
He stands at that, his eyes flashing. “You think I don’t know that? I’m not delusional, Daniela.”
“Really? ‘Cause from where I’m standing, you’re definitely not in your right mind.” I take a step back, scanning him up and down. “Matter of fact, you sure you’re fit to be rescuing anyone?”
Tristan growls, and I distinctly hear his teeth snap together. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Really?”
He shakes his head, then downs the rest of his drink. “I came when you called, didn’t I? Should earn me a measure of trust, if nothing else.”
I shake my head. “It was a mistake. You shouldn’t have. You and I – we have nothing.” Having delivered my scathing reply and gotten the satisfaction of seeing the startled look in his eyes, I walk away.
Tristan
I'm still standing like a dumb idiot when someone taps my shoulder, drawing my gaze away. Luz's red curls and green eyes greet me. There's a twinkling in their depths that spells trouble for me.
“So, friend, huh?”
My jaw clenches at her words and I look back to the other side of the bar, where Dani's resolutely ignoring me. How in hell... I can't. I look at her, but it's another I see. And I. Can't. Disassociate.
Fuck me.
Another poke, this time more insistent, focuses me back on the fiery redhead by my side. I glance around the bar, looking for Dom. He needs to come and gather his mate, but he's too busy looking smug and leaning against a wall.
He doesn't have to speak for me to get his meaning. You're on your own.
Screw you too, buddy.
Dom shrugs, and Luz pokes me again.
“What?” I unclench my teeth long enough to spit it out.
She grins as if I've just awarded her the best gift. “Nothing...” Her eyes flicker to Dani, and the grin widens. “She's pretty.”
So is her twin, who broke my heart.
The words are on the tip of my tongue, but I bite them back and grunt instead. Luz rolls her eyes, more than used to our caveman ways by now – or so I'd hope, considering the wolf she's shacking up with.
As if on cue, Dom finally moves off the wall and joins us. His arm wraps around Luz, pulling her back against his chest. She melts into him, and I look away. Needing to escape their love, their connection that stirs my wolf. He demands one of his own – and my eyes land on Dani, again.
Merda.
“She's got you twisted already? Now that's a record if I ever saw one.”
I scowl back at Dom. “You’ve no idea what you’re talking about, meu amigo.”
“Hmm.” Dom arches an eyebrow. “I may not be Finn, but that’s a helluva spitfire you have there. Plus, she’s from your old pack, meaning she gets your crazy shit. You can’t ignore a girl like that.” His gaze falls on Luz. “Trust me, I know.”
A snort escapes me, and my expression eases. “I’ve no intention of chasing her.”
“And why not?” Something about Luz’s question gives me pause. Her eyes are inquisitive, as if she understands there’s something holding me back.
Not that I can talk about it. “We’ve got history, her and I. And not in the way you’re thinking, Lucrezia. It’s...complicated.”
Her green eyes are a little too eager, and I refuse to explain myself. Screw it. I signal the bartender for another shot, and practically rip it from his hand. I’m not like Dom and the others – alcohol does get to me. It doesn’t make me drunk, but it numbs everything – my senses, my nightmares, my wolf.
And right now, I need it. So I gesture for another. Luz whispers something to Dom, who rests his hand on my shoulder. I shrug it off.
There's a guy getting closer to Dani, talking to her and offering to buy a drink from the way he's gesturing. A growl escapes me, and Luz's chuckle half-registers.
“He’s a goner.”
“Would you two get a life?” It's thrown over a shoulder, because I'm already moving towards trouble.
Daniela
I feel him standing behind me, but don't turn around. Instead, I increase the charm up a notch and focus all my attention on the guy. He was nice enough to buy me a tequila shot – which I downed like there's no tomorrow. A second followed. And a third.
Numbness is the name of the game right now. It’s all I’ll have tonight, and I need it more than anything. Probably not the best way to deal with problems, but try being me for a second. With a family as fucked up as mine is, I’m better off forgetting.
Plus, why should I give Tristan the time of day? I mean, I hadn't expected him to actually be nice to me, considering what Izabella put him through, but some acknowledgement of a friendship we’d shared a while back would have been better than this.
The hurt makes my insides clench, but I keep on a neutral expression for my companion. He’s a nameless face right now, designed to keep my mind off the one wolf it shouldn’t linger on.
My mark throbs again, and I move my hand to rub it. Time is running out, or it did as soon as I left Bow’s Arrow. And they’ll come looking for me. My eyes close against the wave of despair threatening to overwhelm.
There’s a thought, a darker one, that goes on a loop in my head. What the hell am I going to do if Tristan doesn't listen, if I can't get protection here?
As if sensing my doubt, another wave rises within me. Only, it’s not despair. It’s something very, very tangible. It rumbles within me, eager to come out. Panic freezes me, before I jump into action, motioning for the bartender to serve me another drink.
It’s a temporary solution, but I don’t intend to show my hand in this bar full of wolves. It’d be suicide, for one. For another, I definitely wouldn’t be getting any protection out of it.
So yeah, the tequila helps by keeping everything at bay. At least, until Tristan speaks.
“Can I talk to you?”
I don’t bother turning around. “Nope, I think we’re done for the night. Call me if your alpha resurfaces.”
Silence only answers, then the growl at my back pulls me out of any wayward thoughts. Before I can tell him to piss off, Tristan grabs my arm and jerks me off the barstool. Then he drags me behind him and through the doors heading at the back.
In the distance, I see Luz leaning against Dom. They’re both watching us and smiling like they know a secret I don’t. And hell if I don't wonder what it is.
Then we’re outside, and it’s pouring rain. Cold rain, in the middle of winter. It’s darker outside, way too dark for only mid-afternoon now. I glance upwards at the sky, noticing the thundering clouds. A shiver runs through me, but it has nothing to do with the weather. My werewolf blood keeps me warm enough.
No, what really scares me, is what I see perched atop a building – a raven. Its moonshine eyes are fixed on us, head tilted to the side like it’s listening. Panic seizes me again, and I try to run back inside. But Tristan is faster.
“Stay,” he growls. “We need to talk, away from prying eyes.”
My gaze lifts again to the raven. Its beady eyes are still on us. I shake my head, trying to rip myself from his grip. “Let me go, Tristan!”
He frowns, his eyes scanning me up and down. We’re both soaked through our jeans and jackets now, and my hair is plastered to my face. But still he looks, until I’m forced to meet his gaze. And the burning fire in it scorches me.
“Tristan, I—”
Something snaps in him, and I swear I hear it. Before I can draw another breath, he pushes me against the wall. I yelp when my back hits it, but his mouth falls on mine. And trust me when I say, I don’t pull back from it.
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