Lone Wolf
“I’ll die before I let you have her,” she declared, waiting as Beck had asked, but eager to flex her returning strength and take them all down now.
“We’ll let you have that wish,” the shorter captor chortled. His laughter died instantly when Marika cut him a look promising retribution.
“Ten minutes.” Ponytail motioned the others to follow him. “This entire room is concrete, like a bunker. There are no windows and the only door is cement also, controlled remotely by me. So don’t even think of escaping. You won’t be able to.”
The three exited. As they did, the heavy door ground into place, closing with a thud. The meager lightbulb cast long shadows on the walls.
“Like the pyramids,” she said, more to fill the silence than anything else. “Except they had only torches that went out once the oxygen left.”
Swinging her legs over the side of the stone sarcophagus, she stood, swaying slightly. “You have no idea how good it feels to be out of that thing.”
He came closer, studying her face with an intent look that made her shiver. “Did we—you really have a child?”
For a split second she thought of lying, but she could no longer hide. “Yes. A daughter. I named her Danielle, Dani for short.”
“How is that possible?” Frowning at her, he looked unconvinced. “Vampires can’t conceive.”
Lifting one shoulder, she winced at the twinge of pain. “So they say. But I did. I went to speak with our seer and she told me this happens rarely. When it did, the child was meant to achieve great things. So, nine months later, my baby was born.”
“Our baby,” he corrected, looking shell-shocked. As he stared at her, anger gradually replaced the surprise. “You kept this from me. My daughter. Why?”
The moment she’d been dreading. Swallowing hard, she kept her gaze on him, not allowing herself the luxury of looking away. “Please. I had my reasons. I’ll explain later, I promise.”
From the grim set of his jaw, she could tell he didn’t believe her. But finally, eyes blazing dark fury, he jerked his head in a nod.
“Is Dani a Halfling?”
Relief flooded her, which she instantly hid. She didn’t pretend to misunderstand his meaning. “She can shape-shift, if that’s what you mean. She’s alive.”
“Not a vampire.” He spat the word as if he hated all of her species because of what she’d done. She didn’t suppose she could actually blame him.
“No.” Her short laugh sounded bitter, she knew. “I couldn’t nurse her. But I bought formula and she thrived. She’s two and a half years old now.”
“Why do they want her?”
“That I don’t know. The seer warned me while I still carried her in my womb. To protect her, I hid among my own kind, until I learned Dani wasn’t safe there. Then I had no choice but to go into a human city and try to blend in. That’s how they found me.”
“Where is she?” His voice was a harsh whisper. “My daughter, where is she now?”
“Safe.” If she’d had a heart, it would have ached. So much pain in his face, grief in his voice. He’d never forgive her for what she’d done. She told herself it didn’t matter. Only Dani mattered.
“For now.”
“For always.” She glanced at the door, trying to judge the time. “When they come back, I’m going to kill them.”
“Can you? Are you strong enough?”
“Yes.”
“How long has it been since you fed?”
Again, she shrugged, forgetting her stiff shoulder. “Weeks, I think. Not long enough to hurt me. I’m fine. I’m still stronger than they.”
“You need blood. Drink mine.” He came closer, turning his head so his neck was exposed to her. “Use my blood to give yourself strength.”
Shocked, she stared at him, while her body reacted. “You don’t know what you’re saying,” she rasped, her mouth dry and her fangs suddenly aching. “When a vampire goes this long without nourishment, sometimes it’s difficult to stop.”
“But you will.” His gaze met hers, his full of a confidence she didn’t share. “My sister loved you and said you were strong.”
“Not that strong.”
Again he moved closer, bringing to her his tantalizing scent, so aromatic that she wanted to weep. “Drink. Hurry up, we don’t have much time.”
He hated her and yet was willing to do this for her? It made no sense.
As if he understood her thoughts, he gave her a grim smile. “Two is better than one. If we’re going to get out of here, I need you strong enough to fight at my side. Now drink.”
Despite her best intentions, she bent her head and moved in, ready to do as he asked.
Chapter 2
Before she could, the outer door began to grind open.
“Too late.” She stepped backward, feeling only relief. Sharing blood with Anton Beck felt too intimate somehow, especially after what had happened between them.
Plus, she didn’t really need it. Dark knows, she’d rested a long time. Even without feeding, she still had enough strength to take down ten puny humans.
Protecting the injured shifter might be a bit problematic, though he seemed to think he was in fighting condition. For both their sakes, she hoped so.
“How badly are you hurt?” She rushed the question.
“Not as bad as I look.” Flexing his fists, he grinned at her. That grin, and the flash of attraction she felt, made her remember why she’d done what she had. Sometimes, she saw his face in her daughter’s.
Pushing away her thoughts, she focused all her attention on the slowly opening door.
When the concrete slab had opened halfway, two of their three captors stepped through. Only the tall shifter with the braid was missing.
“Where’s the other?” She made her voice soft, casual.
The fat one seemed nervous, pudgy fingers fidgeting with a ring of keys. “He went to get the rope.”
Holding up a large cross, the dirty one grinned, showing stained teeth. “Don’t even think about trying anything.”
A cross. What a fool. Some of her kind had lived in the times before Christianity. Either way, a cross had no effect on her. She wanted to laugh but knew better than to reveal the truth. She’d take any advantage she could get.
Still, who were these men, and why were they living in the dark ages? Did they really think such a thing could harm her? They must not know squat about vampires. Excellent for her, bad for them.
She eyed them, letting her gaze travel down the length of them, twisting her mouth as though she found them wanting. Which she did, actually.
The smelly man began to sweat. He lifted his cross higher, trying to hide his terror. He didn’t realize that she could smell it, even over the stench of his unwashed body. The pungent scent of panic made her fangs ache and her stomach clench. Suddenly starving, she wanted to feed.
But she forced herself to remain still. Though every instinct urged her to jump them—first the one with the cross, then his partner—she wanted all three to pay. She’d wait for ponytail man to return with the rope.
“I don’t think he’s coming back,” Beck said in a casual voice. He still slumped against the wall, as though it hurt him to straighten. But she read both strength and determination in his dark eyes and knew that he, like her, only pretended weakness.
What he didn’t realize was that she didn’t need his help. She didn’t need anyone’s help.
It turned out Beck was wrong. Walking heavily, the other man returned with the rope. As he held it up, she frowned. What kind of rope was that? It looked more like snow chains for car tires, interwoven with metal links and rods for strength.
Again she had to stifle a grin. They might have been able to keep her contained with a cement sarcophagus, but these puny metal chains would hold nothing.
“Silver,” the man said, holding them aloft so they clinked. “Extra protection.”
“Wrong species,” Beck drawled. “Vampires care nothing about silver. That’s us shape-shifters. You should have made the rope out of garlic.”
Marika’s mouth twitched savagely at his mocking tone. The tall man suddenly appeared to have an inkling of his fate. His nostrils flared in terror, and he spun for the door, making a run for it. Now.
Marika moved, vampire speed. Her former captor went down before he’d even taken a full step. Though by the laws of karma he should suffer, she ended his life quickly, ripping out his throat. Then, spinning before she’d even taken a satisfyingly deep drink of his warm blood, she launched herself at the other two captors, who’d frozen in shock.
Fat man screamed like a pig. Dirty man went down blubbering. Him, she killed instantly. Turning to the fat man, she began gorging herself, letting herself drink her fill of his rich blood as the life force ebbed from him.
“Enough. Let him go,” Beck said, yanking her up from her feeding.
For a moment, she could only snarl up at him. Then, regaining her focus, she shook her head, sending droplets of blood flying. “I can’t. I’ve bitten him. If I don’t kill him now, he’ll become a vampire.”
Beck frowned. “That one’s a shifter.” Pointing toward the braided one with the ripped-out throat, he moved closer. “He’s full-blooded, so he’s not dead. He won’t turn. You know our blood’s immune to your bite.”
“I killed him.” She shrugged. “Sorry.”
“No, you didn’t. I just told you, he’s not dead. Only silver bullets or fire can end a shape-shifter’s life. Look, he’s already beginning to heal.”
Standing, she wiped her mouth on the back of her hand, leaving a bloody smear. “Then we’ll set the place on fire.”
“No.” Beck pulled his cell phone from his pocket. “He’s Pack. We have laws. I don’t want to be an accessory to murder. Let me call Pack authorities.”
Punching in a speed-dial code, he gave the information in short, staccato sentences. When he hung up, she regarded him quizzically.
“You didn’t tell them where we are.”
“Didn’t need to. My phone’s a special phone, with a GPS locater built-in. They’ll use that to pinpoint this place.”
“They can track you wherever you are?”
“Yeah.”
“That doesn’t bother you?”
He shrugged. “No. Why should it? I’m not doing anything I’d be ashamed of.”
To each his own. With a nod, she bent over her victim, who’d expired quietly. Though she hadn’t drunk until she was stuffed, she felt pleasantly full. Already, her veins began to buzz with renewed energy. “This one’s definitely dead. Let me check the other.”
A quick check of the pulse revealed that man, too, had expired. “I’m done here. Let’s get out of here before your Pack people show up. I don’t want to have to answer any questions.”
Beck followed her as she headed for the door.
Once outside, she took deep breaths of the cooling air, enjoying her mild buzz. She wasn’t used to the heady richness of fresh human blood. Like many other of her kind, she usually relied on blood banks or wild animals for nourishment.
Taking a deep breath, she turned to face her deceased best friend’s older brother. “I’m gonna run.”
Beck grabbed her arm. “Not yet. If you’re going to wherever you have our daughter hidden, I’m going with you.”
She hissed. “I’m not going there. I don’t want to endanger her.”
“You have to make sure she’s all right.”
“That’s one thing I know for sure. She’s safe.”
“I’d prefer to check in person. It’s time I met her.”
Panic clogged her throat. “I can’t take the chance. You don’t know who might be watching me.”
“I’ll make sure we aren’t followed. We’ll go together,” he said, in a tone that left no room for arguing. Behind his eyes, she glimpsed his wolf, pacing restlessly.
She let him see her fangs. “I don’t think so. I go alone and in the opposite direction. Dani is safe, believe me.”
For a moment, he considered her, his expression so stark she wanted to cry. Steeling herself, she lifted her chin. “I don’t want to fight you. Let me go.”
“Fight me?” He sounded incredulous. “Bring it on.”
Suddenly remembering, she felt heat suffuse her. When they’d been together in the past, play fighting had always led to passion. Something about the adrenaline …
Three years had gone by. They’d changed.
“I don’t want to fight you,” she said slowly. “I just want you to leave me alone.”
“We made a child, Marika. Dani. Now we’re forever tied together by her.”
“No.” Her protest sounded weak. He ignored it, as she’d suspected he would.
“We need to talk,” he insisted, as though by the strength of his voice, he could force her to give in.
He didn’t realize she wouldn’t, couldn’t. While she wasn’t ready for a physical altercation with him, she thought if she could fuel his simmering rage with her, turn it to hatred, maybe she could make him angry enough to go away. It was worth a shot.
“Oh, yeah?” Tossing her long hair back over her shoulders, she forced a smile before pulling her arm free. “There’s nothing to talk about. We were over long ago. And you don’t even know Dani is yours. I had lots of lovers. She could be anyone’s.”
He looked unconvinced and unmoved. But what did she expect? She’d always been a crappy liar. Juliet would have seen through her instantly.
“When we were together, you weren’t with anyone else,” he said, teeth clenched. “I know Dani is my daughter. I have a right to see her.”
“I have a right to keep her alive.”
He reeled back as though she’d slapped him. “I would never hurt her. How could you even think that?”
“I trust no one.”
“I don’t care. This isn’t even between you and me, it’s between me and my daughter. She has just as much right to know her father as I do to know her. Come on, Marika. You never were a fool. Stop this.”
She spun away, throwing words back at him over her shoulder. “Just leave me alone. Trust me, it’s better that way, for all concerned.”
Easily, he kept pace with her, fury simmering in his eyes, making them appear black. “No. Where is Dani? I want to see her.”
She didn’t answer, knowing no matter what she said, her tone would brand her a liar.
“You can’t take her away from me now that I know. I won’t let you.”
The rawness of his voice stung her. She knew that emotion all too well. After all, by their joining together, they’d inadvertently caused her best friend’s death. Still, fool that she was, she’d missed him. Even if she’d wanted to forget him, she couldn’t. Every time she’d looked at the child they’d created together, she’d seen his face. And Juliet’s. She still missed her best friend, his sister. Dani’s aunt.
Beck still watched her, silently waiting.
Abruptly, she wondered how he’d dealt with his sister’s loss. Then she wondered why she cared. She couldn’t afford to care about anything, anyone else but Dani. And keeping her safe trumped what anyone else wanted, including herself. Especially herself.
Yet that knowledge didn’t make it any easier to do what she had to do—try and make him hate her enough to leave.
“Why? Why do you care? You never even wanted kids. Why do you suddenly want one now?” With fresh blood humming through her veins and giving her strength, she faced him, well aware how intimidating she could look in her full vampire glory.
But he was a shape-shifter—vampires didn’t threaten him. Never taking his gaze from her face, his eyes had gone cold and flat. “That was in the past. What I wanted then has nothing to do with any of this. Dani was conceived and born. I would have given my wolf to be there for that. No matter.”
“No matter?” She could scarcely believe his words.
“Make no mistake. I don’t like what you did and I may never forgive you for that. But Dani is all that matters now. She’s just as much mine as yours. I want to see her, get to know her. You’ve already deprived me of two entire years of her life.”
Pain made her temples ache and her throat tight. He was right, but she’d had no choice. She still had no choice. There were no words to answer him. She slowed her frantic pace. No matter that he was right, this was out of her hands. She had to protect her baby. No matter the cost to either of them.
His sensual mouth twisted. “Answer my question. Where is she?”
She hadn’t answered, nor would she, as long as she could stall him. She knew deep down in her bones that if he saw Dani, he’d take one look at her tiny, perfect face, and he’d never leave. Once, Beck had staked a claim on her. The idea that he wanted to make a claim on her little girl terrified her. Both because of what she knew and something else, a tiny, selfish part of herself that she didn’t much like.
Inhaling, she tried to get her second wind. “What gives you the right to know anything about me or mine? Despite our mistake three years ago, we’re actually strangers, with only Juliet in common.”
“Mistake?” For the space of a second he dipped his chin, the movement slight and barely noticeable, but enough to tell her how much her words hurt him.
“I—”
His lip curled. “What gives me the right? That you can ask such a question tells me my sister didn’t know you as well as she thought.”
She felt his words like a knife.
“Don’t,” she said. “You know nothing about me—”
“I’ve lost my sister. She was all I had left in the world. Yes, you were her best friend. And maybe what happened between us never should have happened. But it did, and we made a child together.”
Again she tried to speak, knowing he was right, but also aware she had to try. The words wouldn’t come.
“I have the right to know her,” he continued. “She’s my blood as much as yours, my family, my child, too.” His voice broke, but the accusation in his eyes cut her like shards of broken, lethal glass.
Head aching, she tried to think. His child. Their child. Dani.
Taking a deep breath, she wondered if she’d be able to convince him or if she was simply wasting her breath. Finally, she shook her head, sending her long hair flying. She had no choice but to continue to try. Especially taking into account the High Vampire Priestess’s warning.
Bravely, she lifted her chin. “All I’m asking for is the chance to raise my daughter in peace.”
“Raise your—She’s mine, too, Marika. Mine. It’s bad enough you didn’t think I had the right to know when she was born.”
“For her own safety.” The words exploded from her. “I couldn’t tell you. I’ve been warned. They’ve been after me from the beginning.”
He went utterly still. Finally, he was listening. “You keep alluding to her safety. If you’re telling the truth, tell me this. Who’s been after you?”
“I don’t know.” Even to herself, her admission sounded weak, contrived. Still, he was a Protector, sworn to protect his own kind. She couldn’t tell him what he wanted to know without risk. And if she did, she was certain he would think she was lying.
“Come on.” His gaze raked her face. “You’re looking for excuses.”
Lifting her chin, she let him read the despair in her face. “Beck, I can’t prove anything to you. Take my word for it. Dani’s in danger. I keep her hidden to protect her. I want her safe.”
“You know what? I honestly do believe you.” Dragging a hand across his eyes, his voice roughened. “I don’t know why, but if you think she’s truly in danger, then she is. Hellhounds. Let me help you.”
Stunned, she could only stare. She’d done nothing to earn his trust and everything to make him brand her a liar. Once she would have killed to have him say those words to her. Now, he represented both the past she tried so hard to forget, and danger.
“How you must hate me.” Eyes tearing, Marika turned away so he wouldn’t see.
“Look at me,” he ordered.
Slowly, she turned, wiping at her eyes. Her breath caught as she did as he asked. Even now, she found him beautiful. With his shaggy black hair and intricate tattoos, he looked edgy and more like a vampire than she.
Leaning forward, he spoke earnestly. “Marika, I’ve never blamed you for what happened. I blamed myself. I loved my sister. For the rest of my life, I’ll have to deal with the fact that I wasn’t there when she needed me. I failed to protect her.”
“Because you were with me.”
He dipped his chin, acknowledging the truth of her words, and the lie. “We both know it was wrong, but there was no way we could have predicted what happened.”
“Juliet paid the ultimate price.” With nothing left to give him but the truth, she kept her voice steady. “Dani resulted from that night. Life from death. I would have thought you would hate her.”
“Do you?” His hard voice made her flinch. “Do you hate her?”
She frowned. “Don’t be ridiculous. Of course I don’t hate my daughter. What happened to Juliet wasn’t Dani’s fault, it was mine—ours. Dani was the only thing that kept me sane.”
“There.” He pounced on her words. “Don’t you see? I’ve fought my own battles with grief, with guilt over what happened. I would have welcomed Dani, loved her, let her save me, too, if you’d given me the chance.”
She refused to allow him to make her feel any guiltier than she already felt. He didn’t know what she knew. “I told you, I couldn’t. I was telling the truth earlier. She’s in danger. I couldn’t let anyone find out about her. Not my own people and certainly not yours.” She clamped her lips together in a straight line.
“Why certainly not mine?”
“For her own safety. And, Beck, I didn’t do what I did out of malice. I honestly didn’t know how you would feel about her, and worse, I couldn’t take the chance of trying to find out. Surely you can understand that.”
“No, I can’t.” His eyes narrowed. “Tell me what happened. That night, after we found Juliet …”
“I waited for you. When you didn’t return, I drove to Addie’s bar. The police were already there. When I learned what had happened, I knew. I searched for you, but couldn’t find you anywhere. Then I looked for Addie, but she’d disappeared, too. Someone told me you’d both gone to talk to the police.” She put her hand to her mouth, wondering if the pain and grief would ever lessen.
He must have felt the same. For a moment, he bowed his head. Then, swallowing, he seemed to force himself to go on. “When I got back, you were gone. You vanished. Why? Where did you go?”
“Hunting. I went to find the ones that killed her.”
“Vampire Huntress. Your skills are rumored to be unparalleled. Did you find them?”
“No.” She felt a shiver of remembered rage. “For the first time in centuries, I failed. I wasn’t even able to find a single clue.”
“Neither did the police, whether human or shifter. Still, even if you were hunting, even if you didn’t succeed, I don’t understand why you hid yourself from me.”
The time had come to tell him the truth.
“While I was hunting, someone else was looking for me.”
“Who?”
“Brigid. She’s ancient, one of the oldest of our kind. She’s also a Vampire Priestess, the leader of the order of Vampire Huntresses. She’s the one who told me I was pregnant. She called it a miracle.” She didn’t tell him what else Brigid had said. Not yet. She’d give him truth, but in bits and pieces.
“She was right. You getting pregnant is kind of a miracle. Who knew vampires could conceive a living child?”
“I certainly didn’t. But Brigid also warned me that I couldn’t take risks with my baby’s safety. She warned me of a threat, though she didn’t know when and from where it would come. I went into hiding to ensure that no one knew. No one except Brigid and Addie.”
“Addie?”
“Yeah.” Her voice softened. “Even though she’s human and a couple of centuries younger, she’s always treated me like a daughter. I trust her.”
“I do, too.” They shared a smile. Marika looked away first.
“Anyway,” she continued. “Dani was born in an old cabin high in these mountains. I had no one to assist me, because I trusted none. Still, somehow they—whoever they are—found out. Someone came hunting. Even though she was only a few weeks old, I knew they wanted my baby.”
“They?” While he wanted more detail, he didn’t appear to doubt her. Yet.