Fangs & Freaks (Shifters of Myths and Legends #1)

Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

Warrick

The faint hum of voices filters through the heavy oak door as I pass by the room where we’ve set up the unicorn. I’ve been alive long enough to recognize when secrets are being spun behind closed doors, but right now the air smells iron-like and it has my senses jumping in alert.

The smell of fear.

I stop, the predator within me sharpening as I let the muted conversation wash over me. Varys’ voice is weak, barely more than a rasp, but bitterness taints his words like old blood.

“She said she’d think about helping.”

A low growl rumbles in my chest. Who the hell is she ? I listen as they talk back and forth, but nothing that tells me who she is.

Vienna’s response is sharper, frantic in a way. “Bloody Mary’s whole deal is vengeance.”

That name— Bloody Mary —rings like a curse in my ears. My fangs ache at the edges of my gums, an involuntary response to the surge of tension coiling through me. Bloody Mary. The executioner of the damned. The one everyone fears… including monsters like us.

What the fuck have these unicorns dragged my club into?

The door creaks open, and Vienna steps out, her pale face shadowed by guilt. She doesn’t notice me at first, her attention darting down the hallway like she’s already planning her escape.

“Vienna.”

She startles, her breath hitching, but I don’t give her the chance to run. In a flash, I’m on her, my hand closing around her throat. Her heartbeat thunders against my palm, hot and furious, but it does nothing to soften my grip.

“The fuck did you do?” I growl, my voice low and sharp, each word edged with the promise of pain.

She claws at my wrist, her nails biting into my skin. “I—I didn’t do anything,” she gasps, choking on her words. “He was desperate. He just wanted to be saved.”

“Saved?” I hiss, tightening my hold just enough to make her squirm. My fangs throb now, the hunger rising in tandem with my fury. “By calling her? Do you even understand what you’ve unleashed?”

“I didn’t call her!” she chokes out, her voice cracking. “It was him—Varys. He was desperate, Warrick. He didn’t know what else to do.”

Her pulse beats erratically beneath my fingers, the scent of her fear thick in the air. It’s intoxicating, a primal temptation that I fight to ignore as I shove her back against the wall.

“You’d better fix this,” I snarl, my breath ghosting over her skin, cold as death. “Because if you don’t, you’ll pay with your life.”

Her eyes widen, but she nods frantically, her trembling hands rising in surrender. I release her abruptly, watching as she stumbles back, one hand clutching her throat.

“I’ll figure it out,” she promises, her voice barely above a whisper. “I swear.”

“See that you do,” I snap, already turning away. “And pray it’s enough.” She starts to turn, but I call out. “Vienna.”

She freezes, then slowly faces me, her expression wary.

“What?”

“If the Obsidian took your brother because he’s a unicorn, why didn’t they take you too? Doesn’t make sense, does it?”

She flinches, her lips parting, but no sound escapes. Her throat bobs as she swallows hard.

“Answer me,” I demand, my voice a growl as I flash in front of her and pin her against the wall.

She whimpers, her voice trembling. “I’m not a purebred like him. My mom was a unicorn, but my dad... my dad was human.”

I let it sink in before I sneer. “That means your blood won’t be as potent.”

“I’m sorry,” she whispers, tears pooling in her eyes. “I just wanted my brother safe.”

“You’re lucky Varys has intrigued me,” I say, my tone cold and lethal. “Or you’d be paying with your life right now.”

Her breath hitches. “Don’t hurt him.”

“Oh, I’m going to hurt him, Vienna,” I reply, my lips curling into a cruel smile. “But only when he’s begging for it. Now go fix this Bloody Mary situation. I won’t be agreeable twice.”

She nods frantically, her hands trembling as she backs away and hurries down the hallway, disappearing from sight.

I need to find Blackwell and update him immediately. Varys’ face flashes in my mind, the dangerous allure of him, the way his magic—his very presence—pulls me in like the promise of forbidden fruit.

It’s a distraction I can’t afford.

By the time I find Blackwell, the bloodlust is a dull ache behind my ribs, coiling and uncoiling like a serpent. He’s in the game room, playing darts with one of the Obsidian members, except the member is the dartboard.

“Hold still,” Blackwell drawls, lining up his shot. He flicks his wrist, and the dart sinks into the guy’s shoulder with a wet thunk.

“Bullseye.” Blackwell grins as the Obsidian member stifles a yelp, his hands shaking against the wall.

“Enough,” I bark, the sound echoing off the walls.

Blackwell turns, his grin slipping when he sees me. “Well, someone’s in a mood.”

The recruit takes the opportunity to yank the dart out, blood dripping from his shoulder. Blackwell watches him, then saunters over, his usual swagger tempered by curiosity.

“What’s got your fangs in a twist?” he asks, crossing his arms over his chest.

“We’ve got a problem,” I say, stepping closer. The scent of fresh blood clings to the air, tugging at the edges of my restraint.

“When don’t we?” he smirks, but the humor fades when he catches my expression. “Alright, spill.”

“Varys called Bloody Mary.”

Blackwell’s brow furrows, and for a moment, his usual cocky demeanor falters. “The Bloody Mary? Like… mirror ritual Bloody Mary?”

“Yes, you idiot,” I snap.

He whistles low, shaking his head. “Shit. That’s bold. Desperate, but bold.”

“It gets worse,” I say, my voice dropping into a growl. “She answered.”

His eyes widen slightly, but then his expression shifts, something sly and unreadable settling over his face. “Oh, maybe that’s who I saw.”

My muscles tense, a dangerous mix of disbelief and fury roiling through me. “What?”

He shrugs, leaning against the wall like we’re discussing the weather. “Would she be the hottie in the cell? Pale skin, blood-red lips, eyes like they’ve seen the end of the world?”

I stare at him, my fangs aching again as anger flares hot and sharp. “You saw her and didn’t say anything?”

“I was preoccupied,” he says, the lazy grin returning. “What does it matter? She didn’t look like she could hurt a fly.”

“You’re a fucking idiot,” I growl, the beast within me clawing to the surface. I take a step closer, looming over him. “Do you have any idea who she is? What she’s capable of? I don’t want that shit in my MC.”

Blackwell’s grin fades completely, and for once, his posture straightens. “Alright, alright. She’s bad news. But what are we supposed to do about it? She’s not exactly the kind of problem you can bite and be done with.”

“No,” I admit, running a hand through my hair. “But we can’t just sit around waiting for her to show up and start collecting on whatever debt Varys owes her.”

His gaze sharpens at the mention of Varys, his lips twitching like he’s holding back a smirk.

“You really can’t help yourself, can you?” I ask.

“What the hell are you talking about?” he snaps.

“Varys,” I growl. “You’re hung up on him. I can tell by the look on your face when I said his name.”

Blackwell smirks, unapologetic. “Can you blame me? He’s got this whole ‘trouble wrapped in a bow’ vibe. Pretty hard to resist.”

His confession sends a flare of heat through me—not anger, not entirely, but something just as dangerous. My silence stretches too long, and Blackwell picks up on it like a shark scenting blood.

“Shit,” he says, his grin slow and sharp. “You are into him. Well, that makes two of us.”

I whirl on him, the tension snapping like a whip. “Don’t even think about it, Blackwell.”

He chuckles, unfazed. “What? You get to admire him and I don’t? He’s a damn unicorn, Warrick. Pretty sure there’s enough magic there to go around.”

My jaw clenches, and I glare at him, the possessive edge in my tone undeniable. “This isn’t some fucking game. Varys is?—”

“Varys is in trouble,” Blackwell cuts in, his smirk fading to something serious. “And if he’s brought Bloody Mary into this, then he’s made it our trouble too. So maybe we put a pin in whatever… tension is brewing here, and figure out how to handle it. Together.”

I stare at him for a beat too long, but eventually, I nod, the unspoken agreement settling between us. For now.

Blackwell studies me, his sharp blue eyes narrowing. “So, what’s the plan?”

I hesitate, my mind racing as I try to come up with one. “We find out exactly what she wants. And if it’s something we can’t give, we figure out how to stop her.”

His lips twitch like he wants to argue, but he nods. “Alright, Warrick. But if this goes sideways, I’m not taking the blame. I’m not the one who took this case. If memory serves, you were.”

“Don’t worry,” I say darkly. “If it goes sideways, there won’t be anyone left to blame.”

Later that night, I stand alone in my office, the flickering lamp casting long shadows across the walls. The others have long since retired, leaving the clubhouse in an uneasy silence.

I lift a glass of blood-wine to my lips, the sharp, coppery tang grounding me as I let the events of the day replay in my mind. Varys’ fear. Vienna’s desperation. Blackwell’s careless grin. And looming over it all, the shadow of Bloody Mary.

I close my eyes and Blackwell’s description of her forms in my mind. Pale as death, lips like a wound, eyes that seem to strip away every defense.

She’s not just a legend. She’s a predator, one who thrives on terror and despair. And now, thanks to Varys, she’s been unleashed.

The door creaks open behind me, and Blackwell steps inside. “Can’t sleep?”

“Obviously,” I mutter, not bothering to turn around.

“So... Bloody Mary, huh?”

I finally glance over my shoulder, and his crooked grin fades when he catches my expression.

“She’s hot,” he says quickly, as though the comment might lift my mood. “You know, for someone who’s apparently a nightmare walking around in the flesh.”

My grip tightens on the glass. “Hot,” I echo flatly. “That’s your takeaway?”

He shrugs, but there’s unease in the way his shoulders stiffen. “What do you want me to say? You’re the one who seems to know all about her. All I’ve got is the little tidbits you’ve decided to share, which, by the way, haven’t exactly painted a clear picture.”

“I’ve told you enough,” I snap, setting the glass down hard enough to rattle the table. “She’s dangerous, Blackwell. The kind of dangerous that doesn’t stop with the person who called her. She’s a fucking ripple effect of chaos. If she’s here, if Varys has brought her into our orbit?—”

“She’ll make us bleed,” he finishes, his tone surprisingly serious. He studies me for a moment, his sharp gaze narrowing. “That’s what’s got you spooked, isn’t it? The idea that we might not walk away from this.”

“We always walk away,” I bite out, but the words feel hollow even to me.

He leans against my desk, crossing his arms. “You don’t get rattled often, Warrick. And I’ve seen you face some serious shit. So if this Mary chick has you this worked up, maybe you should fill in the blanks for the rest of us.”

I turn to face him fully now, the fire in my veins flickering hotter. “You don’t want the blanks, Blackwell. Trust me.”

His smirk returns, but it’s softer, tinged with something almost genuine. “Fine. I’ll stick to what I know: she’s here, she’s dangerous, and you’re worried.”

I exhale sharply. “That about covers it.”

He nods, but there’s no humor in his voice when he says, “So, what’s the plan?”

I pick up the glass again, swirling the blood-wine as I answer. “We hold our ground. And if she comes for us, we make sure she understands one thing.”

“And that is?”

I meet his gaze. “We don’t bleed alone.”