Alpha Initiation (Alpha Blood #1) (Werewolf Romance) (13 page)

Around the building were many forest trails both planned and random, and they led into the woods for miles and miles. Some connected to the tracks lower down and others disappeared up the slope to the very peaks of the wild and rugged mountains. I hoped I wouldn't need a map to find my room.

We pulled into the station and disembarked. The station was a madhouse as people, or should I say werewolves in human clothing, walked down the path to greet old friends and family. Through all the chaos I noticed a strange man in a bright red silk robe with wolf imprints all over the cloth. I tapped Luke on the shoulder and pointed at the strange guy. "Who's that?" I asked him.

"That's John Farber, the lord of Sanctuary," he explained to me.

"Why's he dressed in a moo moo?" I wondered.

Luke snorted but quickly put back on his stoic expression. "That's the traditional robe of the lord of Sanctuary. As the current lord he's the only one with the right to wear it."

"And the responsibility not to," I quipped.

Farber worked through the first throngs of newcomers and spotted us. He hurried over and grasped Luke's hand in a warm, wild handshake. "I'm glad you could make it, Luke! I heard about the troubles on the western train, and was horrified when I learned you were aboard."

"Just a minor mishap. No one was seriously injured," he assured Farber.

"Excellent! Excellent! I hope to have many a lively discussion with you on politics!" He glanced over to me, and I slapped on a fake, wide, child-scaring smile. "And who have we here?"

"Lord Farber, this is my mate, Rebecca," Luke introduced me. I wasn't sure how I felt about the title, but I was stuck with it.

He grabbed my hand and gave me a shaking that rattled my soul. "A pleasure to meet you, and what a lucky woman you are!" Farber told me.

My eyes flitted over to Luke, and my voice came out flat. "Yeah, lucky."

Farber didn't notice my tone, and released me from the horrible shaking and grasped Burnbaum's hand. "And a welcome to my usual guest. How is business?"

"It is well, I thank you," Burnbaum briskly replied.

"Well, I must be off to greet the others. Enjoy your stay!" Like a crazed squirrel looking for his nut stashes, Farber slipped away to harass the other newcomers.

"Is he on something?" I asked them.

Luke shrugged. "That's a good question, but let's get inside."

"I will be seeing you two later," Burnbaum spoke up. His eyes were on a group of men and women talking along the side of the path. They all had green armbands around their arms. Farther up the trail was another group with dark red armbands. "I see old friends I wish to speak with. Goodbye, friends," Burnbaum gave his farewell. He strode off to join the group, and I nodded toward them.

"What's with the armbands?" I inquired.

"Those show the party affiliation. Green for Lone Wolf, and a dark red for the Alpha party," Luke told me.

"Why those colors?"

"Green signifies the forests and resources that unite and make each region distinct," he explained to me. "The red signifies the willingness for the Alpha members to sacrifice their blood for one another."

"Should I be writing all this info down?"

"I hope you won't be too involved in the party politics."

"I hope you're right."

Our conversation was interrupted when Luke looked up the path and I followed his gaze. Burnbaum passed dangerously close to the group of reds, and one of them leaned toward him and spat onto his shirt. In a matter of seconds the innkeeper transformed from docile to deranged. He snarled and leapt at the insulter, who growled and lunged at him. They collided and were at each other in a flurry of teeth and claws. Yes, claws. In their ferocity the men became half transformed into werewolves where their upper bodies and feet were shredded by the appearance of their wolf claws, muscles, fur, and fangs.

The battle wasn't single-combatant combat for very long. Both sides dove into the fray so there was a mess of green, red, and brown fur with lots of torn clothing. The scuffle caught the attention of everyone at the station and at the entrance to Sanctuary, and crowds cheered or booed on their opponents and allies. The fray was an exciting match of fangs and sharp claws where each werewolf tried to break their opponent. My hackles raised in anticipation at the thought of joining the group and-

-suddenly I was a dozen yards up the trail from where I last remembered and Luke had his arms wrapped around me. I blinked and whipped my head back and forth. "Um, how did I get here?" I asked him.

"Instinct," he replied. "You smelled the bloodshed and tried to join the battle."

The color drained from my face. "And if I had joined?"

"You might've had your throat torn out," he told me. I cringed and relaxed my body, but he kept a tight hold around me.

Luke didn't have to worry. A group of four men ran out of the doors to Sanctuary and bounded down the stone steps with all the agility of their wolf heritage. They wore simple black uniforms and hats similar to police, and at their hips were pistols. The men tore into the fray with well-aimed blows at everyone who challenged them. The tide shifted in their favor and they had just about won the day when Sheriff Brier strode past us with his gun in his hand. He stopped a dozen yards from the scuffle and shot his weapon in the air. Dozens of people screamed and many ducked. "All right, Ah think we've seen enough here," he drawled.

The shot stopped what remained of the brawl and the combatants transformed back into their human selves. Thankfully no one had so many tears in their clothing that they were indecent to the few children in the audience, but their bodies were covered in deep gashes and bites. One of the uniformed men, a gentleman about Luke's height, strode out of the crowd and over to the sheriff.

Sheriff Brier looked down at the other man with a grin. "Well, hello there, little brother. Still playing cops and robbers?" he greeted the man.

The smaller man turned his lips up in understandable disgust. I wouldn't want to be the sheriff's brother, either. He held out his hand to Brier. "You know no other weapons are allowed to be fired but ours, so I'll have to ask for your weapon," he requested from Sheriff Brier.

"Who's the smaller guy?" I whispered to Luke.

"I'm not familiar with his name, but he's wearing the uniform of Sanctuary's chief of police," Luke softly replied.

Alistair snuck up behind us with the luggage. "His name is Adam Brier, lead Protector of Sanctuary," he informed us.

"Ah don't see how I can give up my gun with such dangerous men around me," Sheriff Brier spoke up.

Protector Brier frowned. "Those are the rules, and no one is above the rules," he insisted.

Sheriff Brier looked like he wanted to argue the point, but with so many witnesses it wouldn't have been good politics to refuse. He sneered and dropped the gun into his younger brother's open hand. "You'd better take care of it," I heard him growl to the Protector.

"Better than you," was the cool reply as Protector Brier pocketed the gun into an empty holster at his side. He looked around at the gaping crowds. "All right, folks, let's move inside. Gentlemen of the brawl, I give you all a warning. One more time and you'll be thrown into the dungeon."

I raised an eyebrow. "Do they really have a dungeon here?" I asked Luke.

"The basement has a few cells leftover from more primitive times, and those are used to hold the rowdy werewolves," he explained to me.

The crowds took Brier's advice and dispersed, some to the trails and others up the steps. Luke, with Alistair loaded down with our luggage, guided us up the path and into the villa. The lobby was a multi-floor, open rafter affair with six wide doorways on either side that led off into the wings. Stairs lined the walls between the openings and led up to balconies on each of the five floors above us. The doorways led to a large maze of narrow passages and halls that ran parallel to the mountainside. In the rear wall of the lobby stood two wooden doors ten feet tall and five feet thick. They were engraved with scenes of forests and humans transforming into werewolves. To our right set in the wall before the first hallway was a large, dungeon-like door with a thick metal circlet for a handle. I guessed that was the dungeon entrance.

Luke took one of the right-hand corridors, up four flights of stairs, and led us into a block of residential rooms. The narrow passages were a wooden-walled conundrum of twists and turns as each section was added on to over the countless years. All the halls had floors carved from the stone of the mountain that was constantly beneath their feet, and the doors to the countless rooms had tall, stout doors that rivaled those at Burnbaum's inn. There were torches on the walls, but I noticed they weren't real. They were fake with bulbs and red coloring to look real. "How'd they get electricity up here?" I wondered.

"It's powered by a waterfall farther up the mountain. I'll show it to you once we're settled," Luke offered.

At that moment I was glad to see some familiar faces in the form of Abby and her parents. Abby saw me, too, and raced over to us. She grabbed my hand, and jumped up and down. "Becky! Becky! Wasn't the train ride so much fun?"

"Yeah, it was something else." Something like terrifying. "Are you guys staying around this part of the building?" I wondered.

Her parents come up behind her and bowed their heads at Luke, who returned the favor. "The werewolves from the same district are grouped together to better discuss their vote," Mrs. Stewart explained to me. She smiled at Luke. "Of course, we'll vote for you, my lord."

"And I'll be glad for your support," he replied.

"If you'll excuse us, we need to get to our rooms," Mr. Stewart spoke up. They led Abby away, who turned and waved at me.

I waved back and leaned toward Luke, where I lowered my voice to a whisper. "Are all werewolf children that energetic?"

"She's quite energetic for any child," he told me.

"Ah, good. I was afraid I'd have to leash up all my children to keep them under control."

Luke chuckled and guided us a little further until we reached one of the larger doors. Alistair opened the entrance and led us into a large bedroom with windows overlooking the large deck thirty feet below us. The room also had its own balcony with a small table and two chairs. I glanced up to see the wooden rafters above us that held up the slanted roof. "Fancy," I complimented.

"It's the lord suite for my region," Luke explained. "The bathroom's to the right, and Alistair's room is connected to this one through that door beside the bathroom door. And speaking of Alistair, I have a few errands for you." The servant stepped up to his master for the commands.

I peeked my head inside the bathroom and was glad to see the toilet seat wasn't made of wood. I didn't want to get splinters every time nature called. I wandered back into the main room and noticed Alistair was gone. "Where'd Alistair go?" I asked Luke.

"I'm going to keep him very busy with a few errands while we're here."

"Lucky him. Speaking of servanty-type people, what was Mrs. Stewart talking about with that vote stuff?" I wondered.

"That's the reason why we're here. This is the vote for High Lord, and only those present at Sanctuary can cast a ballot," he answered.

I fell back onto the covers and sighed. "This werewolf society is seriously complicated," I commented.

"Yes, it's had a lot of time to change while other parts have remained the same," he agreed.

"Like you being a lord?" I wondered. "You said that was inherited."

"In a way it is inherited from my Maker," he replied.

I glanced up at the open rafters and the comforting scent of old pine. "How come Alistair knows so much about this place?" I asked Luke.

Later in room she asks Luke why Alistair more familiar with history of place. "He helped build it."

I frowned. "But didn't he say it was built three hundred years ago?"

"Yes."

"So he's that old?"

"Yes."

I sat up and looked at him with a suspicious glance. "Wait, how old are you again?"

He smiled. "Old enough to be your great-great-great-grandfather." I shuddered at the thought of making out with my ancient relative, and he laughed. "I promise you I won't look my age until I'm as old as Alistair."

"And that means I won't look my age, either?" I guessed.

"Exactly. The aging process practically stops when you're changed. Some werewolves have been known to live a thousand years or more."

"Provided they aren't caught by pitchfork-wielding villagers," I added.

"Yes," he agreed.

"So what do we do now?" I wondered.

"If you'd like I could show you around," he suggested.

"Do you have a map for me in case we get separated?" I teased.

Luke chuckled. "So long as you don't wander off too far I'll be able to find you."

"That super sniffer?"

"Yes, the super sniffer."

"All right, I'll go. This room's got a nice view but my legs need a stretch."