Return of the Alpha (12 page)

Craven nodded. “We can't take any credit for killing Lassiter. The vampires finally decided to put their own house in order.” 

“I'm glad you're both back. There something I need to ask you.”

I glanced at Craven and could see the sadness in his face.

“Hill,” Craven interrupted. “I'm sorry, but I can't return as alpha. Our home is in Darmoor now.”

I looked back at Hill, and to my surprise he was smiling. What was going on? Craven must have noticed it too because he had a puzzled look on his face.

Hill picked up the telephone which was on the bedside cabinet. “Send him in now please.”

Before either Craven or I could ask a question, the door behind us opened, and in walked a young male shifter.

“Rayma,” Craven said, as he walked over to greet the newcomer. “What happened to you? Last I heard you'd gone AWOL.”

“After Freda had been called away to the hospital, I got a call from Drayton. He asked me out for a drink, and said he wanted to bury the hatchet, and find a way for us to work together. He must have spiked my drink because the next thing I knew, I woke up in a prison cell in Maja territory. I was there until earlier today when Milton was overthrown.”

“Yeah.” Craven grinned. “We heard something about that.”

 I was released and came straight back here,” Rayma said. “I tried to find Drayton, but he appears to have fled the territory.”

“So, Craven,” Hill said. “I need you to persuade this young shifter to take over as alpha.”

“But now Craven's back—” Rayma objected.

“We won't be staying. Our home is in Darmoor now. Tell me, Rayma, do you respect your alpha?”

“Of course,” Rayma said.

“And do you trust his judgement?”

“Of course.”

“Then there is nothing more to discuss. You will be the next alpha of the Terroun. Go home and share the good news with Freda.”

*********

Two days later, Hill passed away peacefully in his sleep. At Rayma's request, Craven and I stayed on long enough to see him appointed alpha.

“Rayma looked nervous,” I said as we began the journey home to Darmoor.

“He'll grow into the role. I was nervous too when I first became alpha.”

Somehow I found that difficult to believe. “What really happened to Drayton?”

“I persuaded him to contact Milton.”

“Persuaded?” I grinned.

“I had him tell Milton that Hill had died, and that the whole of Terroun was in mourning. I figured that might cause Milton to take his eye off the border defences. It must have worked because Grosvenor tells me he met little or no opposition when they made their attack.”

“What about the vampires?” I asked.

“What about them?”

“Don't try to tell me you had nothing to do with that.”

“Of course I didn't. I can't abide vampires. You know that.”

I wasn't sure I believed him, but I let it go. “Where is Drayton now?”

“He decided to follow my example and become a lone wolf. I'm not sure how long he'll last out there. Not long hopefully.”

We were travelling as wolves, and were making good time when Craven suddenly pulled up.

“What is it?” I hadn't sensed any danger.

“We'll be passing close by Semron soon. Do you want to call in on Marlow?”

The thought had already crossed my mind, but now wasn't the time. “We should get back to Darmoor. Maybe we could invite them to visit us once you're settled in as alpha.”

“That's not a bad idea. I might see if I can contact Coral too.

Chapter 17

HESTA

Hesta was in Thomas' room. It was the first time she'd been in there since the night he'd died at Jesters nightclub. The two of them had been very close. They'd shared a common hatred of their father who had been neglectful, bordering on abusive. As soon as they'd been old enough, she and Thomas had moved out of the family home, and had found their own place. The two-bedroom flat had been in terrible condition when they'd first moved in, but it was their sanctuary. Those first few years in their own place had been the happiest she'd ever known. It had all started to go wrong when Thomas had fallen under the influence of the 'Dramits' – a group of young vampires who worshipped Lassiter and everything he stood for. Hesta had tried to talk to Thomas—tried to make him see sense, but he had refused to listen. Hesta had seen Lassiter for what he was. An ego-maniac who would have done anything, and used anyone, to further his own self-interests. Her brother had been blind to his lies. In the end it had cost Thomas his life. The attack on Jesters nightclub should never have happened. Lassiter had encouraged it on the basis that it was some kind of revenge against the shifters. It had been nothing of the sort. While Thomas and numerous other 'Dramits' lost their life that night, Lassiter had been colluding with Milton to overthrow Krell. Lassiter had inflicted more damage on the vampires than shifters and humans had ever done.

Revenge had been so very sweet. It had been worth all of the years of struggle to see Lassiter dead. It had even been worth having to work alongside a shifter. Trusting Craven had been one of the most difficult things she'd ever had to do. She had no time for humans or shifters, and preferred to be with her own kind, but she'd realised that Craven and his fated mate had been the key to overthrowing Lassiter.

She should have felt elated, but instead she felt empty. For so many years her focus—her only focus—had been avenging Thomas. She hadn't allowed herself to think beyond that. Her single-mindedness had come at a price. She'd lost touch with all the friends she'd once had. She'd even lost the only love of her life. Jarda had stuck with her for much longer than she deserved, but in the end even he couldn't take any more. After they'd rescued Louise, he'd told Hesta that it was time for her to
let go
. He said that she'd done enough.
Enough?
It would never have been enough until Lassiter was dead. She bore no ill feelings towards Jarda after all they had been best friends as well as lovers. She still saw him occasionally, but now they exchanged no more than pleasantries.

Hesta flicked through the book which had been one of Thomas' favourites. When was the last time she'd read a book? Or watched a movie? Or gone out socialising? She couldn't remember. Maybe she should think about moving out, and making a new start. But how could she? It would be like deserting Thomas, and on a more practical level, she couldn't afford it. For years, she'd only just managed to scrape by. She'd taken numerous temporary and part-time jobs, and been forced to turn her hand to anything that would pay the rent and feed her.

The doorbell made her jump; she never had visitors.

“Yes?” Hesta cracked open the door only a matter of inches. She didn't recognise the tall, elderly vampire who stood in the corridor.

“Hesta?”

“Yes?”

“My name is Branden. I wonder if I might speak with you.”

“I'm busy. What's it about?”

“Have you heard of the Main Party?”

“No. Should I have?”

“Your father was a member before he died.”

Hesta had to lean against the wall otherwise she would have fallen over. “Died?” Her voice was weak.

“I'm so sorry,” Branden said. “I assumed you knew.”

“I haven't seen my father for many years. When—?”

“Over a year ago now. I really am very sorry.”

Hesta wasn't. She'd often wished her father dead, but it had still come as a shock. “What do you want?”

“I believe you are aware of the Dramits?”

She'd hoped to never hear that name again. If it hadn't been for the Dramits, her brother might still be alive. “What about them?”

“Do you think I might come in just for a few minutes? My legs aren't what they used to be.”

 Hesta studied him carefully. He certainly looked frail, and hardly posed a threat. She was confident she could see him off easily if things turned nasty. “Come in.”

“Thank you.”

They took a seat at the small kitchen table. Hesta didn't offer him a drink; she wanted this over with as quickly as possible.

“The Main Party was the only official opposition to Lassiter for many years,” he said.

“You didn't make much of a job of it. He seemed to have free rein to do whatever he liked. I hadn't even heard of you.”

“It's true, we should have done more, but Lassiter didn't make it easy. Many of our members were 'disappeared'.”

“Is that what happened to my father?”

“No. Your father wasn't very active in the party. I think he saw it more as a chance to socialise. He died from a number of complications.”

“Drink you mean?”

Branden didn't respond, but then he didn't need to.

“You mentioned the Dramits?” Hesta said.

“They're pushing their candidate to succeed Lassiter. Yildra—do you know him?”

Hesta shook his head.

“Think Lassiter. Then multiply it by ten.”

“No one could be that bad.”

“Trust me. You will wish Lassiter was still alive if Yildra takes power.”

“I still don't understand why you came to see me.”

“We plan to field our own candidate against Yildra.”

“That's good to know. I'll be sure to vote for him.”

“We want you to be that candidate.”

“Me?” She laughed. This had to be some kind of wind-up.

Branden wasn't laughing.

“Why me? I'm not interested in politics.”

“This isn't about politics. It's about the survival of the vampires here in Maja. After the disastrous Lassiter years, we can't afford another mistake. If Yildra takes power it may be the end of us.”

“I can see that. Look I'm happy to help, but you need a better candidate than me.”

“You're the only candidate that stands a chance. Our people have seen how you battled to overthrow Lassiter. You put your head above the parapet when most people were hiding away. If you speak out against Yildra, they will listen to you.”

“I'm sorry. It's really not for me.”

“Think of your brother.”

“What's Thomas got to do with it?”

“Think of all the others just like Thomas who might fall for Yildra's lies. You can stop that.”

“I'm sorry. I can't help.” Hesta stood up.

“Will you think about it?”

“There's nothing to think about.”

“Take my card. Call me if you change your mind.”

She took it out of politeness. “I won't. I'm sorry.”

After Branden had left, Hesta returned to Thomas' bedroom, sat on the bed and closed her eyes. She could see Thomas. Why hadn't someone stopped him before it was too late?

*********

“Quiet!” Branden was struggling to make himself heard. The hall was much more crowded than usual, but then this wasn't a run-of-the-mill meeting. “Quiet!”

He picked up a teaspoon, and banged it hard several times on the table. The noise in the room slowly subsided, and the crowd turned their attention to the stage.

“Welcome everyone. Tonight it gives me great pleasure to introduce our candidate for the upcoming election. Please put your hands together for Hesta.”

She tried to hold back the fear as she walked out onto the stage. For a few moments, there was silence, but then came the applause. Somehow that made her even more nervous. Branden shot her a reassuring smile which did nothing to ease her nerves. Standing centre stage, she held up a hand to quell the applause. When the room fell silent, she began to speak. “I am honoured to have been asked to represent you. Some of you may already know me, but I suspect most of you do not. All you need to know is that I devoted my life to defeating Lassiter.”

The applause erupted again.

“Now it seems I am to do the same again. This time I aim to stop Yildra before he can seize power. With your support I know I can do that.”

More applause.

“It's important that you know what I stand for. It's very simple. I stand for the vampire. I have absolutely no interest in shifters or humans. We have nothing to fear from them, and provided they do us no harm, they will have nothing to fear from us. However, if they do threaten us in any way, they must be made to pay the price. Lassiter was concerned only about his own power. His so-called alliance with the shifters did not benefit us; it benefited only him. If I'm elected there will be no alliances. We do not need them. This is the age of the vampire! This is our time!”

Backstage, Hesta was trying to gather herself. She'd managed to hold it together while she'd been in front of the audience, but as soon as she'd come off stage, the nervous exhaustion had well and truly kicked in. Why had she agreed to do this? Why couldn't she have settled for a quiet life?

The knock on the door snapped her out of those thoughts.

“Who is it?”

“It's me,” Branden said. “Can I come in?”

“Sure. Come on in.”

Hesta smiled at the old man. She couldn't bring herself to be annoyed with him even though he was responsible for her being in this predicament.

“This is Griga.” The old man beckoned in a male vampire who was much closer to Hesta's age than he was to Branden's. He was tall with short-cropped black hair, and had a small scar below his left eye.

“Hi.” Hesta managed a smile.

“Pleased to meet you.” Griga offered his hand.

He had a strong, firm grip. It was some time now since Jarda had broken up with her, and she hadn't even considered being with someone else, but this guy could definitely be a contender.

“Griga will be your bodyguard,” Branden said.

“Bodyguard?” Hesta laughed. Not because Griga didn't look the part—he definitely had the physique for it. The idea just sounded ludicrous. “Why do I need a bodyguard?”

“Yildra will stop at nothing to take power,” Branden said. “If he doesn't think he can do it by legitimate means—”

“I can look after myself.” Hesta turned to Griga. “No offence.”

Griga smiled. Damn he had a killer smile too.

“This is non-negotiable,” Branden moved towards the door. “I'll leave you two to get to know one another.”

“I don't need a bodyguard,” Hesta repeated once Branden had left them alone.

“Looks like you've got me anyway.”