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THE FIRST CRASH WAS followed by another, then another. Glasses were shattered, and by the sound of retreating footsteps, I guessed that the bar was quickly emptied of patrons. At the same time, a warm, husky scent spilled in from under the door.
Wolves.
I don’t know if Wayne thought it or me. But one thing was certain: this wasn’t good.
There was an angry buzz of conversation, stopped short by a few harsh words, too low and throaty for me to make out. I did, however, understand one of them. ‘Wayne.’
There’s a trick door behind the bookshelf. Go—now!
I met his eyes for a split second, then flew to the shelf, silent as a grave. As quietly as I could, I yanked it open and slipped inside, pulling it shut just as the door opened and six angry werewolves spilled inside.
“Wayne! Buddy!” the throaty voice called.
I peered through a slit in the shelf, watching helplessly as my one and only friend in the world was suddenly, casually, surrounded.
“Amos. Patrick,” he greeted them with a forced calm. “What can I do for you tonight? I trust you didn’t come this far for the nectar?”
There was a thunderous barking that might have been a threat, or might have been laughter. It was hard to tell.
“Actually no,” the one he called Patrick replied. “We came here tonight for a different reason.” As if by dark coincidence, he sat down in my chair and picked up the crumpled wanted poster, smoothing it open on his leg. “One which you might have a vested interest in.”
Wayne leaned back against his desk and frowned questioningly. “Oh yes, and what might that be?”
“Come now, old friend, let’s not play games.”
A werewolf with a shock of dark hair poked his head in the door. “She’s not here.”
Patrick just smiled, keeping his eyes fixed on Wayne. “Tell me where she is, Wayne.”
Wayne gulped. “The girl from the poster? Why on earth would I know that?”
“Because I heard she came to your bar. I heard she came looking for you.” Patrick leaned in, looking dangerous. “And you and I both know that you’d only do one of two things. Help her, or turn her in. Either way...she’d still be around. So tell me where she is.”
Wayne held up his hands peaceably. “Listen, guys, you’ve got this all wrong—”
“No, I don’t think so.” Patrick got to his feet and my mouth fell open in shock. He was well over six feet tall, maybe seven. Wayne shrank even smaller in his seat as the wolf leaned over him, flashing his teeth. “And I’m only going to ask one more time. Where’s the girl?”
Wayne’s breathing quickened but he gripped the sides of his armrest and tried to look calm. “Patrick, I don’t know what to tell you. I’ve seen the poster, just like you, but I haven’t seen the girl. You must have gotten some bad information.”
Patrick shook his head slowly and made a disappointed clicking sound with his tongue.
“Wayne, Wayne...”
He snapped his fingers and two werewolves pulled Wayne to his feet. My teeth ground together and my fingers left little grooves in the thick wood as I struggled to contain myself.
What good would me bursting out do anyway? I hadn’t been able to get my magic to work since last night, and me showing myself would only verify that Wayne was lying.
“I didn’t want it to come to this,” Patrick breathed as he straightened to his full height.
Wayne struggled a bit, but the other two werewolves held him firm. “We’ve known each other over a decade,” he panted through his teeth, “you wouldn’t just kill me.”
Patrick smiled, a terrifying, deadly smile I knew I’d remember for the rest of my life.
“You’re the mind reader, friend.” He tapped his head. “You tell me.”
There was a single cry, then Wayne fell silently to the floor. Patrick stayed right where he was, standing over his old friend’s body.
Holding his bloody, dripping heart in his fist.
I stifled a scream in my hand. The world churned around me and I thought I was going to be sick.
“Stash the body,” Patrick commanded as the others began to search the office. “And keep looking for the girl.”
The wolves split up, ransacking the office and getting ever nearer to my hidden place behind the shelf. My hands trembled uncontrollably as I watched Patrick set down Wayne’s heart like a lopsided paperweight. When they got close enough, they would smell me. It was only a matter of time.
The wolf with the dark hair came back in and Patrick turned to him with a glare. “Amos, tell me you’ve found something.”
“I’m sorry, Patrick, there’s no one here.”
There was a sudden bang as the door swung open, revealing someone I couldn’t see.
“I think you’ll find you’re wrong about that, mate.”
Patrick turned with a start and the other wolves took up a defensive position around him.
“What the hell are you doing here?” he snarled.
The man strode forward and my breath caught in my chest. It was the handsome man from the bar. The one I’d realized who had been drinking blood.
“Well I was trying to enjoy a glass of blood when you and your pups came and looted the place. I was going to complain to the manager,” his eyes flickered to Wayne’s body for split second, “but I can see I’m too late.”
Run, I thought desperately, peering through the crack in the wood as this one man stood alone against seven. You don’t know what you’re up against.
“Sorry about your blood, leech. But I’m sure you can find what you’re looking for in the next bar.”
“Or the parking lot,” one of the other wolves taunted.
The vampire’s eyes fell on him as he smiled along good naturedly. “Normally I would. But now it seems as though we have another problem.” There was a subtle shift in the air, and all at once, his eyes cooled to pale fire. “You killed my friend. And that, I cannot abide.”
It was over before I knew it, before my eyes could make sense of what was happening.
There was a blur of blood and flesh. What sounded like dogs screaming. And then all was quiet. When the dust finally cleared, I saw the vampire standing exactly where he had been, calmly re-folding the cuffs on his sleeves.
Maybe he won’t see me, I prayed. Maybe he’ll just go away.
But there was a swish of air, and the next second, he was standing right in front of the shelf. He stepped forward and squinted into the crack. We were face to face, separated by only a thin sheet of wood. When his eyes adjusted to the darkness and he caught sight of me, he grinned.
“Blair Griffin? Tristan Gale.”
There was a sudden splintering, and with a mighty heave, he pulled the trick door off its hinges. I screamed for real and backed away into what remained of the crumbling shelf. He looked at me curiously, then shook his head in quick reassurance.
“No, I’m not going to hurt you, I came here to help. Wayne was my friend, you see. How do you think I knew about this cabinet of his?”
He extended a hand, and after a moment of excruciating deliberation, I took it.
“There you are,” he smiled, brushing dust and shards of wood off my shoulders, “no worse for the wear.” There was a distant crash and the sound of angry voices. He glanced behind him toward the bar before looking down at the dismembered bodies of the werewolves. “Ah yes, I suppose the others might be a bit angry about that... Well no matter.”
The next thing I knew, I was up in his arms.
“What is it they say in the movies? Ah yes.” He flashed me a devastating smile as he stepped over a severed arm. “Come with me if you want to live.”
To be continued...
Book 2 is available now!
Bonus Book 4 – Enchanted Castle
