Authors: Aline Hunter
Stop, Ava mine.
She didn’t listen, continuing forward.
If she meant me
harm, she would have killed me in the alley.
At least wait for me, don’t approach her alone.
She could leave if we do that. You weren’t exactly nice
to her after what she did for me, if you recall.
A string of curses sounded in her mind and she knew Diskant
was tearing a path through the crowd. She moved faster, pushing aside the
people in her way until she stood at the side of the tall, beautiful creature
with eyes so pale they seemed translucent. Those ice-blue eyes turned until
they were no longer focused on Trey and Emory but rested entirely on Ava. Their
gazes caught, blue on blue, a merging of mind and wills occurring as their
telepathy flared and touched. Then Ava felt the woman’s power, recognized it.
She’d known she was a vampire, had listened as Nathan recounted the story of
her rescue to Diskant after the Shepherds attempted to finish what they started
outside Dougan’s.
Ava hadn’t known she was also something more, something
different.
Do you feel it, sister kind?
the vampire mused.
It
is how you were given the ability to read and communicate mentally, how it
flourished inside you.
Ava’s heart started racing, the crazed beating painful
inside her chest. “Magic?”
After a fashion. Your parents were descended from mages.
“Mages?”
The vampire clasped her forearm in a soft grip, her fingers
silky smooth.
Allow me a parting gift.
There was no way to describe what happened next.
One instant Ava wasn’t aware of the significance of her
parents’ lineage. The next she understood everything as an instantaneous burst
of information was passed along, absorbed and processed. Extrasensory
perception was a white mage trait, something that was passed along through the
generations. It was stronger in some than others—ranging from what people
referred to déjà vu to full-blown telepathy to telekinesis—but was always
present. Her parents’ gifts manifested and were made more powerful in her by
the genes that passed along the trait.
The hand on her wrist vanished, the world came into sharp
focus and Ava stumbled slightly. Muffled curses and angry voices brought her
attention to the floor, past the heads of those moving out of the way. Diskant
was plowing through the unfortunate victims in his path as if they didn’t exist.
Directly beside him was Trey, and his expression was equally terrifying, his
level stare locked onto the beautiful blonde vampire standing beside her.
Time to go. Take care, Ava Brisbane.
Ava turned to ask the vampire how she knew so much about
her, her parents and their connection. When she did an empty hallway greeted
her. She gaped at the vacant space, stunned to find she was alone.
“Damn it, Ava,” Diskant’s loud snarl was the only warning
she got before she was lifted from the ground and hoisted into his chest.
Trey barreled past them, nostrils flaring as he scented the
air. A loud growl carried down the hallway and when Diskant turned so that she
could see, Ava froze. The former Alpha looked absolutely feral, his canines
prominent, eyes sharp with bared claws visible. He rotated in a circle in the
exact spot the vampire had vacated.
“Where are you?” Trey continued to turn, eyes wild.
“Trey,” Diskant warned.
“I know she’s still here.” He stopped circling and faced
them, opening and closing his fists. “I can fucking
smell
her.”
Ava,
Diskant whispered in her mind, preparing her for
what he was about to do.
She reacted as he expected and opened the connection between
them. Diskant was an Alpha but his true power resided in his ability as an
Omega. He was for all intents and purposes a peacekeeper and could manipulate
emotions to soothe the beast within those around him. Now, with her help, he
could replace anger and loathing with serenity, peace and calm.
“Don’t you fucking dare.” Trey snarled as Diskant’s power
washed through him an extended outward.
“Sorry, man,” Diskant said.
Trey’s enflamed, amber-hued irises slowly changed, becoming
a whiskey-colored brown. The claws at the tips of his fingers receded, as did
his canines, and his shoulders went from tense to relaxed.
I hate it when they fucking do that.
Trey’s private
thought sounded as exhausted as he looked. He turned from them without another
word and made his way toward the bar.
Diskant lowered Ava to the ground and bowed over her, an
angry glint in his eyes. “I swear to Christ, if you don’t start listening to me
I’m going to tan your sweet fucking hide in front of god and everyone.”
“She didn’t mean me any harm. You’re going to have to—”
She yelped when he swept her off her feet and started
walking down the hallway, toward the restrooms. “What do you think you’re
doing?” she snapped, wriggling on his shoulder.
He remained silent as he stomped into the bathroom, sat her
down and locked the door behind him. The look in his eyes said it all but it
was his voice that set her blood on fire and caused her body to sizzle.
He approached her slowly, stalking her inside the tiny room.
“I’m about to show you who’s boss, baby.”
Ava met the challenge with a grin, advanced on him just as
intentionally and placed her hands flat on his oven-warm chest. “You’re more
than welcome to try, lover.”
* * * * *
Trey stared at the door to the men’s room, where his best
friend was undeniably getting his fuck on, as he downed the rest of his beer,
tasting nothing, drowning some odd emotion he couldn’t describe. Even with
Diskant’s assistance, something continued to linger, a presence hovering just
out of his reach that he could perceive yet never quite touch.
He closed his eyes when he felt that odd, ghostly impression
of a hand against his nape, stroking him as if he were a child who needed
comfort. The whispering fingers wound down his neck, flitting down his spinal
column until they vanished for a moment and returned to repeat the caress.
Caress? Who was he kidding? The feeling was nothing more
than a figment of his imagination. Wishful fucking thinking. Maybe he was
losing his mind. Perhaps the loss of his brethren was too much.
No,
the soft, feminine voice he knew so well from his
dreams argued.
You’re not losing your mind.
Then why did it feel like it? Why was he so unhinged? So
desperate for a phantom who didn’t exist? Unexpectedly, his thoughts turned to
the female who’d dared touch Diskant’s mate. He’d seen her only once before and
had mistakenly assumed she was…
Well, something that a vampire could never be.
“Take it easy, brother.” Emory’s deep voice drew him from
his thoughts and Trey lifted his head in time to see him slide into the seat
beside him. “We’ve got a long drive tomorrow.”
“Last one,” Trey muttered and downed the remnants from the
mug, swishing that final, bitter taste in his mouth. Talk about things coming
full circle. How fitting that Emory would now be the calm one while he was now
the loose screw?
“You won’t return with me once the dust settles?” Emory
asked, staring straight ahead.
The ghostly feeling of fingers brushing his neck ceased, as
if the phantom at his back was eager to know the answer as well. He shivered at
the loss of contact and quickly cursed himself for sliding into dementia—once
again—quite willingly.
“You already know the answer to that question.” Raising his
hand, Trey signaled to the bartender that he wanted another beer by lifting his
mug.
Emory turned concerned eyes in his direction. “I thought you
said that was the last one.”
Trey was tempted to tell his sibling that this was his last
one, his final hurrah. The pack was saying goodbye but what they didn’t know
was that he was saying farewell too. There was no chance he was returning, not
after what he planned to do. The Shepherds had no idea what they’d done, didn’t
have a clue of the hell which was about to descend on them. He hoped they
continued to say their prayers, because when his final brand of justice arrived
he didn’t plan on sparing any of them.
Not a single one.
“I did,” Trey said, accepting the new, frothy beverage.
“Didn’t I?”
“Trey…”
“Let me enjoy my beer, Emory.” He brought the mug to his
lips.
After a moment Emory stood and Trey watched him walk through
the crowd and disappear as he made his way back to the pack.
What a miserable fist fuck this had become. He’d dreamed of
moments like the one he could have just shared with his brother—without
fighting, without recrimination—but he was too warped in the head to maintain
any sort of casual conversation. If he wasn’t frothing at the mouth for blood
he was drooling for a trace of the scent of a fucking vampire.
When that comforting touch returned to his skin, gentle and
pacifying, he allowed himself to enjoy the warming caress for a moment before
he swatted at his neck until there was nothing to distract him but the heat of
the club, the throb of the music and the iciness of the mug in his hand.
Soon he would put this all behind him.
Soon he would lay them all to rest.
He lifted the glass, brought it to his lips and drowned the
contents.
Soon…
The End
About the Author
Aline Hunter is the alias of multi-published author J.A.
Saare, who has written stories featured in horror magazines, zombie romance
anthologies and flash fiction contests. Her work has a notable dark undertone,
which she credits to her love of old eighties horror films, tastes in music and
choices in reading, and has been described as “full of sensual promise,”
“gritty and sexy” and “a breath of fresh air.”
Currently she is penning multiple projects within the urban
fantasy, erotic and contemporary, and paranormal romance categories.
Aline welcomes comments from readers. You can find her
website and email address on her
author bio page
at
www.ellorascave.com
.
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