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Authors: E. Blix,Jess Haines

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He paused when she did, sounding all too reasonable. “You destroyed my jacket. I just had that fitted last week. I’m not going to hurt you for it. I want you to work out some kind of amends for having damaged my property and preferably a way to earn back my loss.”

She stared at what she thought was him in stupid shock. “The jacket?”

“Yes, the jacket. You remember, on the train? Torn to shreds by those claws and teeth of yours?”

“Oh,” she managed, cheeks flushing in embarrassment. That stupid piece of cloth was worth more money than she’d ever seen in her entire life. Freddy would have kittens when she told him about it. If she could tell him about it. She quickly resumed walking, hoping the vampire wouldn’t notice how flustered she was. The light touch to her shoulder made her yelp in surprise as he put more pressure there, urging her in another direction. Yet more embarrassment.

“It’s not that much, really. More the principle of the thing.”

Not that much. Right. Swallowing hard, she followed his lead onto the sidewalk as he hailed the lone cab moving their direction, relaxing a little more since the lights were casting shadows that helped her keep better track of him. “I’ve heard your name somewhere before. Were you ever in California?”

“No.”

After a minute, as the cab was pulling up, she realized he wasn’t about to elaborate. This conversation was getting very disheartening. “Christoph never said your name to anyone.”

“I gathered as much.”

She glared in his general direction as he pulled the door to the cab open and held it for her. Due to his lack of scent and her inability to see his expression, unused to judging moods by tone of voice alone, she was unable to tell that he was amused with her. He slid in after her, brushing a hand down his shirt as the cabbie twisted around in the seat.

“Where to?” he said, sleepy, heavy-lidded eyes taking in the strange pair. There was a sticker on the Plexiglas that separated the front seats from the back. The symbol of the Moonwalker pack—a paw print on the surface of the full moon.

The vampire leaned forward, black eyes glinting in the street light as he plotted and schemed what to do with this new burden. “Do you know where The Underground is?”

The cabbie’s eyes widened, and he withdrew. “Mr. Royce! Of course, sir, of course.” Twisting around, he quickly pulled out, rushing over the speed limit toward the docks and warehouses that bordered the river.

Royce leaned back in the seat, wrinkling his nose at the overpowering scent of werewolf musk, lingering cigarette smoke, and old fast food. Closing his eyes, he settled in and folded his hands over his stomach, uninterested in discussing his affairs in front of the cab driver.

Analie sat back as well, staring at the shadowed outline next to her.

She remembered where she’d heard his name before.

Most of the time she didn’t listen in on the news. That was boring adult stuff. Christoph had been over watching TV one day, and she’d wanted to switch to cartoons. As usual, he’d told her to shut up and go away—but this time, when she stole the remote, he wasn’t playing around when he tore it away from her and put it back on the news. She’d stuck around, sulking and watching the drama playing out on the television. It had soon sucked her in, too, since the topic was so close to home.

She hadn’t caught all of it, but what she did hear was bad enough. A big pack of Weres had been attacked, or were attacking, Royce on his own ground. One of his restaurants. Shots were fired. People had died. The body count was uncertain, but many Weres had been killed or injured in a big battle above some fancy-named French eatery somewhere in the heart of a very expensive-looking part of New York City. And at the center of it all was that vampire, Alec Royce. That wasn’t even a year ago.

Oh God. What had she gotten herself into?

Chapter Three

T
he cab driver dropped Royce and Analie off in front of a grungy-looking warehouse close to the docks overlooking the Hudson River. Red neon letters proclaimed the location as “The Underground,” a bit of a misnomer considering it was a five-story building. There wasn’t a line outside anymore, but the sound of heavy metal music still drifted out into the streets, a pair of bored bouncers smoking and chatting by the front door.

They straightened when Royce stepped out of the cab, surprised to see their boss here for an unscheduled visit. The pair exchanged bemused glances as the teenaged girl in jeans and a corduroy jacket slid out behind the vampire.

One of the two beefy men approached. “Want me to let you in the back, Mr. Royce?”

“Yes, Bruno, if you would.”

Bruno snuck a furtive glance at Analie, who shifted her weight uncomfortably and scanned the dark streets. Not much to see, just a few other neon signs here and there for some other clubs. The Underground was the only one on the block that still had a packed parking lot.

The guy led the way around the side of the building to a small door with an “Employees Only” sign. He used a key card and a code to unlock it, opening up a bright, white-washed stairwell leading to upper and lower floors. Judging by the sudden wave of cheering and hollering punctuated by music pounding loudly enough to make their teeth rattle in their skulls, the other door just inside must lead onto a dance floor.

As Royce nodded his approval, Bruno grinned, obviously liking his boss. Analie curled her lip and followed in Royce’s footsteps, trudging down the stairs after him. As soon as the door shut behind him, the vampire pulled out a cell phone and called someone. Talking about her as if she wasn’t there, no less. She didn’t pay much attention at first, too busy being miserable with her situation to be worried about the arrangements he was making for her to have a place to sleep tonight. It wasn’t until the end that she paid any mind, and then only because Royce’s voice had become sharp, commanding.

“No. For the last time, John, tell Mouse to straighten up the extra room in her apartment and be ready to keep an eye on her. I’m perfectly aware you weren’t expecting a Were in the house, but that doesn’t excuse that we have a guest with needs to be cared for. Get it done.”

Royce hung up, ignoring the sounds of protest still coming from the receiver before he snapped it shut. He knew it wouldn’t be taken well, but the call had been necessary. Some of his people would have reacted badly to having a Were, even if still a child, suddenly appear in their midst without warning.

He glanced at her over his shoulder as they reached the bottom of the stairwell, pausing before entering the basement. “If you have any belongings you wish picked up, one of my people can handle that for you. Also, I need to know if you are enrolled in school. I’ll see to your continued education if necessary.”

“School?” Analie stopped in her tracks, dumbstruck. On top of all the other horrors, now she’d have to deal with school, too? Ugh. “I guess so. I was being homeschooled.”

“Then we shall continue in that tradition here. I’ll see if I can get one of the local packs to provide a teacher. They can educate you in local pack etiquette and shifter laws. Which reminds me, how is your control when shifted?”

She scratched the back of her neck, unnerved by the question. It was too personal to be discussed with someone she didn’t know—let alone a vampire. “Okay, I guess.”

“Good.” Royce reached toward her. She practically fell back on the stairs as she jerked away, but he only brushed his fingertips over the sleeve of her worn jacket. “We’ll have to do something about these clothes of yours. Mouse will see to that, I suppose.”

“What’s wrong with my clothes?” she demanded, flustered.

“As long as you are staying with me, you must dress and act appropriately,” he replied, not particularly kindly. He pushed through a set of double doors and into a wide open space packed with pallets of soda, water, and alcoholic drinks. Analie reluctantly followed a few paces behind him. “Do you have any allergies or special medical needs I’ll have to see to?”

“No,” she said sullenly, lowering her head and folding her arms. His attention to her necessities was not what she had been expecting. That he would think to ask all these things up front made her wonder how many times he’d been through this before.

“Any particular foods you enjoy? My staff can provide anything you like.”

“Um.” This was sounding scarily like a commitment of some kind. An unhappy thought struck her—he was preparing in case she
was
going to be stuck with him for a long time. Just in case her pack didn’t have anything “good enough” to trade for her. At least she could get some comfort food in the meantime. “I guess. I like fish sticks. Ooh, with tartar sauce!”

He looked back over his shoulder, incredulous. He could have imported any of the finest foods from anywhere on the planet, provided her with the most elegant array of international fare from any of his restaurants. She could have asked for anything, be it Maine lobster tail braised in garlic-saffron butter, pâté de foie gras with shaved black truffle, or imported swallow nest soup, and she wanted… fish sticks?

“If that’s what you want,” he said dubiously. “Are you sure you wouldn’t prefer salmon steaks? Grilled mahi-mahi, perhaps?”

Mahi-mahi? “Um, sure.”

“Do you eat any red meat?”

“Well, yeah. Especially with steak sauce. Good stuff.”

Royce came very close to laughing at her naïveté. She was unwittingly handing him the keys to buying her loyalty.

“I see my wait staff will get to educate you into the finer things in life,” he murmured. “This should be interesting.”

Little furrows appeared between her brows. Was this whole mess going to be a punishment or more like a really weird vacation?

She squinted at the shifting shadows as he turned his back on her, gesturing for her to follow as he navigated the maze of shelves, boxes, and pallets. She wanted to ask some questions in return, but was too afraid of the answers he might give to speak.

He led her past the pallets to a bank of offices, one of the plain white doors bearing a “Staff Break Room” nameplate. In the far corner next to the employee lounge was an unmarked door. He opened it, revealing what appeared to be a janitor’s closet filled with buckets, mops, and brooms. It seemed normal, right up until he touched a panel and the entire back wall shifted aside.

“Holy crap!” Her eyes widened with excitement. Secret passageways were
awesome
. She surged forward to follow, curious when he pushed the door back enough for her to see what was inside. It led into a cement tunnel lit with small halogen lamps that stretched so far she couldn’t see where it ended.

Royce barred her way before she could take a step inside.

“Don’t ever come down here without one of my people guiding you. These tunnels run throughout the city, and I wouldn’t want you to get lost. Also, they are not to be revealed to anyone without my express permission. You don’t talk about this with your packmates or your friends. Do you understand?”

“Yeah, sure. Whatever.”

She was starting to think he wasn’t so big and bad after all. Christoph had beaten him on the train. He hadn’t done anything to hurt her and was being rather civil. Maybe he was more of a pushover than she’d first assumed. The stories she’d grown up with about vampires being badass seemed exaggerated under the circumstances.

Royce’s eyes narrowed, the calculation in his expression going unnoticed. That kind of attitude wasn’t going to fly. He’d have to play the part of the dominant alpha to get her to obey. Lovely.

Analie squeaked when an unseen hand snarled in her shirt, shoving her up against the wall of the tunnel so hard a few hairline cracks appeared in it behind her. He lifted her clear off the ground until they were at eye-level, though she couldn’t see his features very well in the brightly lit tunnel. The lights didn’t allow enough shadows for it.

“Listen to me, wolf, and listen well. I am master here. Your alpha isn’t here to protect you. All that stands between my people having a feeding frenzy and the other New York alphas setting their wolves on you is my command. Keep that in mind before you think of gainsaying me.”

With a last slight shake, he withdrew, shutting the door behind them and starting down the tunnel. Analie stayed where she was, slumped against the wall, wide eyes staring after the slivers of shadows flickering in and out of the light. One trembling hand lifted to rub at her throat where his knuckles had dug in as he held her. The casual ease behind that violent movement told her more than words that he was plenty capable of hurting her if he was of a mind to.

Slowly rising, she followed warily after Royce, trying to think with this new facet of his personality and the meaning behind the threats. She hadn’t given much thought to the consequences of being surrounded by vampires. There weren’t many in the rural part of Los Angeles where she was from. Gavin, her caretaker, had told her that they congregated in the city for the most part, which she could understand. She’d never heard of vampires trying to feed on any pack members, but maybe that was why not many Goliaths went into the city.

That made her pause. Was she going to be a food source while she was here?

“I thought of a use for you, by the way.” Royce didn’t look back at her, still ambling down the tunnel as though nothing had happened.

Analie cringed. That sounded so very, very wrong, particularly considering her last train of thought. “What?”

“You, my dear, are going to be one of my chefs.”

Analie stopped in her tracks. “But I don’t know anything about cooking!”

Royce’s reply was grimly amused. “You’ll learn.”

Chapter Four

“N
o.”

“You’re supposed to do what I say, remember?”

“No!”

Royce sighed. Analie wasn’t being cooperative, though he could understand why. Still, he was getting annoyed. “Mouse is the only one of us in the building who has an empty bedroom available. Would you rather share a room with someone? Perhaps sleep in my quarters upstairs?”

Her reaction to that last was much as he expected. The girl cringed, her gaze sliding over the faint outline of shadows revealing the mute vampire’s presence. Analie hadn’t dreamed that the moniker could be so accurate when she overheard Royce mention Mouse’s name at The Underground. The depressingly thick scent of vampire was all over her and drowning out every other odor in the building, making Analie incredibly nervous. Even the two humans they’d passed in the hall a few minutes ago were overlaid with the cloying, musty odor of vampire. For a werewolf who relied almost entirely upon scent to judge her surroundings and the moods of those she interacted with, it was like being blind. That she was expected to share an apartment with one of the leeches was about as appealing as skinning herself and making a throw-rug out of her own fur.

The mute vampire suddenly burst into motion, and Analie yelped, skittering back a few steps to put more distance between them. Royce watched Mouse’s hands flutter for a few moments before nodding, putting out a staying hand.

“Mouse says she’s willing to accommodate you until we come up with a better solution. Look, ladies, I realize this is an unusual situation, and I certainly don’t expect you to have to befriend each other. Mouse, I promise you this is temporary. Analie, you’re not sharing a room or apartment with any of the humans, so get used to the idea that you’ll be bunking with one of my people until you’re returned to your pack.”

Rubbing a hand over her face, Analie warily looked around, enormously creeped out about being stuck a vampire’s den with God-alone knew how many of them wandering around. She wanted to go home. She wanted to hide in the protection of her own bed, under her own covers, with a nightlight, and Gavin posted at the foot for good measure. She was still in a daze of shock and wished mightily that she’d never agreed to come to New York.

“I guess I don’t really have a choice, do I?” she asked bitterly.

“No.”

Rather than argue the point, she reluctantly acquiesced. She couldn’t see the expressions on the vampires’ faces as they glanced at each other, but she was sure that the looks they shared must be mocking. She flinched but didn’t pull away as Royce set his hand on her shoulder, guiding her once more.

The three moved deeper down the hall, coming to a halt next to the stairwell leading up to the next floor. He’d already explained the layout of the building to her. The basement led to the tunnels. The first and second floors were a myriad of apartments. The first floor was mostly vampires, enough to be able to converge on anyone in the halls that might attempt attack and keep the way clear to escape routes. The second floor had another scattering of vampires, but mostly humans—live-in donors—called it home. The entire third floor was Royce’s living quarters, and was strictly out-of-bounds unless her presence was requested.

Mouse opened the door to the last apartment before the stairwell. She and Royce entered first, leaving Analie to trail miserably behind. Once inside, Analie froze, eyes widening.

She barely noticed the tiny kitchen or the minimal, comfortable furniture scattered throughout the large, open living room. All she saw was the glint of light reflecting off hundreds of blades bolted to every available wall-space that wasn’t taken up by bookshelves.

“Wow,” she breathed.

Royce exchanged another glance with Mouse, who was frowning at him severely. She didn’t have to sign at him to tell him what she was thinking.

“Don’t touch anything without Mouse’s permission.”

Analie nodded distractedly, wondering if she might be able to use any of this against the vampires. Maybe with this much weaponry her inexperience wouldn’t matter. She’d have to worry about it later, since Royce was nudging her along again. Mouse led the way, bringing them to a sparsely furnished bedroom beyond the kitchen.

“Mouse’s last roommate took his things with him when he left,” Royce said. “You can redecorate however you like. If you damage any property, it will be added to the existing tally.”

Analie’s shoulders slumped. Her new room was many times larger than the one at home with Gavin, but this one was cold, empty. There was a large bed, an end-table flanking either side of it, and a dresser. There was a bathroom and closet across the room. No windows. No artwork or posters or anything to make it feel more inviting. No sprawling crayon drawings of epic battles in the backyard left behind by Jo-Jo. Just plain, off-white walls and the acrid reek of vampire musk and old blood. That this was home now brought unbidden tears to her eyes and sent her hurrying inside to avoid the leeches beside her.

Royce wondered how long it would take her alpha to hit the roof and contact him to negotiate the pup’s freedom. Bringing her to his haven was both a blessing and a curse. Once she returned to her people, she could tell them details about his home, true—but she would also bring word of his strength of numbers and how powerful his progeny were. It might be enough to stave off an assault.

He disliked the necessity of having such a dangerous beast sharing room and board with one of his people, but Mouse was the least intimidating of his number who could hold her own if Analie lost control and shifted. He’d expected and wasn’t moved by her distress, though he hoped Mouse’s relatively gentle temperament would prove a good match for the pup. He frequently dealt with upset humans once they realized what they’d gotten themselves into by signing contracts. At this point, he was more worried what might happen if Analie channeled that upset into the shift or some other violent tendencies.

He’d truly hoped that Christoph would have been the one to come with him tonight. He would have been useful. The girl would make for good leverage in negotiations, but he wasn’t entirely sure the Los Angeles-based pack of werewolves would have anything he might want. If they didn’t, of course he’d hold her to the five year arrangement. However, unless he invested more of his resources into her, she wouldn’t be useful to him for months. Even so, she might not even be truly valuable to him until she returned to her pack.

Royce was well aware of the dangers the Goliath Weres posed to his kind. He’d have to weigh the benefits of having a groomed contact in the pack later versus any immediate monetary gains and potential retaliation from the intense hatred stirred up by his actions. A very small part of him felt a thrill of fear at the idea of deliberately provoking the Goliath alpha: a Were who had survived for centuries by dining on the blood and flesh of vampire-kind. An act so heinous and unclean, it made the undead seem positively normal by comparison.

The rest of him was delighted by the possibilities. Either way, he’d have to do everything he could to make sure she came around, viewing him with the awe and adoration the rest of his people held him in. It would be gradual, of course, but he was confident he could sway her over time.

“If there is anything you need, tell Mouse and she will inform me. Before I leave, is there anything you require? Anything to eat? Something picked up from where you were staying with Christoph, perhaps?”

Mutely, Analie shook her head, closing her eyes to stem the flow of tears trickling down her cheeks. At least they couldn’t see her cry with her back turned to them both.

“Very well. I’ll leave you to get settled. I’ll check back with you tomorrow evening.”

The two vampires left her, Royce shutting the door to let her have her moment of grief in peace and solitude. Once the futility of the situation settled in, he could start building her up as he desired. He’d start by offering her a substitute for the warmth and affection she was used to getting from her pack by keeping her busy and surrounded with his people. Once she saw they were not mindless slaves doing his bidding, but living and unliving people who were—for the most part—genuinely happy to have his favor and protection, she’d see it was not so bad to be beholden to him.

If he cultivated the image of himself as the equivalent of the “pack alpha” in her mind, eventually she’d answer to him the way she would any dominant wolf in her pack. He would give her every creature comfort he could spare, save for what might aid her in escape or as leverage against him when she returned to her pack. He’d handle all of her needs the same as he did with any of his donors, ensuring she had the best of everything so as to instill a sense of gratitude and desire to exchange something for all that he would freely provide. Soon she’d start looking for someone to come to with her problems or questions; he assumed Mouse could serve in that capacity, since he’d forbid contact between Analie and any humans under his employ without the strictest of supervision. Coupled with the inevitable pack-minded desperation for interaction, he calculated it might take between one and three months for her to start seeing him as a potentially benevolent protector, and another six months to a year to turn her fear of him into adoration and loyalty.

If he guided her education properly, she may even be grateful for that. Once her attitude toward him loosened, he’d see that she did spend time getting to know all of his people and not just a handful of select vampires and humans. Maybe enough to let her befriend some of them. In addition to making her feel like a part of the group instead of an unwanted outsider, it would make her hesitant to hurt any of them in the future, perhaps even enough to stand up to any demands for attack or retaliation by her alpha. That wouldn’t happen for quite a while yet. Not until he was certain she no longer saw him as the bogeyman or some uncaring jailor.

His brows were knotted as Mouse walked him to the door. Analie might also withdraw into herself like a lone wolf, but Royce thought that the mix of lessons and his personal attention to her education would be adequate safeguard. As he opened the door, he paused, looking back at Mouse. She was watching him with narrowed eyes. No doubt she’d thought this through much the same as he had. He trusted her to forward his ends for she, too, was old enough to know the danger the Goliath werewolves posed if the girl was not handled properly.

“Check in on her after a bit and make sure she’s all right, would you?”

Mouse curled her lip, glancing in the direction of the girl’s room. She could smell the thick, rank musk of Were from where she stood, along with the barest hint of salt tears. She didn’t like the idea of offering comfort or aid to one of the Goliath pack. If anyone other than Alec had suggested she do as much, she’d have happily gutted them. While he made some rash decisions now and again, she would trust his judgment and follow him to the deepest pits of the nether hells if he asked.

Nodding shortly, she watched the elder go, the satisfaction in his expression briefly giving her pause. He had some devious plans in mind, as usual.

Rolling her eyes, she headed to her own room, picking up the book she’d been reading before John came by to tell her about the new “guest”. Settling into the plush, rumpled blankets on her bed, laying on her stomach with her booted feet dangling off the edge, she tried concentrating on the novel instead of the alien scents invading her living space. That the girl had been crying meant little to her. No one had answered her cries while Max Carlyle tore her apart every day for twenty years, nor in the years to follow when she had no voice left to plead with. The wolf’s separation from her family had a time limit attached, and she would not be ill treated while she was here. Mouse had no pity for her.

At least, that’s what she told herself as her keen eyes refused to stay focused on the page in front of her. Her gaze drifted over the rest of the room, taking in the bookshelves, the scattered crystal and porcelain figurines on the dresser, the overabundance of stuffed animals and frilly pillows on the bed and covering the loveseat against the far wall. Her bedroom was as feminine and inviting as her living room was austere and threatening. The utilitarian purpose for having so many weapons readily at hand had to do with being the last line of defense before any invading force might take the upper floors. If necessary, she could hold the hall single-handed against an army of invaders long enough for backup to come from upstairs and take up arms as well. While the main room of her home was a “public” portion of the building, set up for the overall good of the inhabitants, her bedroom was sacrosanct and filled with enough hidden weaponry to put what was visible on the walls outside to shame.

Her last roommate, Ari, was one of the first vampires Alec had turned. Alec had met Ari in Cairo when he was traveling on business, and subsequently bonded, then later turned him. Ari had stayed by Royce’s side faithfully for six centuries, helping him build and hold his own territories and wealth, but eventually wanted to return to Egypt. Alec had let him go, and Ari sporadically travelled back and forth from Europe to Africa and back as he built up his own interests and bloodline.

He hadn’t settled in Luxor until the mid-1800s, and helped build up the tourist trade with money from his investments in his interests throughout Greece, Rome, Spain, England, Egypt, Libya, Morocco, and Sudan. He still paid tribute to his sire, supplementing Royce’s already considerable fortune as Royce, in turn, did the same with his own sire.

Ari had returned to Royce’s side for some time to recoup his losses when another elder forced him out, killing his minions, and usurping his rule of Luxor. Royce had offered to aid him take back his city, but Ari had wanted to do it himself. The usurper had taken it through trickery, making his move while Ari was away on a business trip. Royce’s prodigy took some time to formulate an appropriate counterattack and left as soon as he was ready. Mouse had regretted his leaving, for he was a powerful ally.

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