Chapter 6 - Jericho
JERICHO
It takes less than five minutes to get to the pack’s house, via a narrow road through the trees. Evan and I lag behind as the pack heads up the driveway.
At first glance, their massive property looks like something out of a landscaping magazine, with a generous two-story house nestled in the heart of a vast lawn.
Even at the start of winter, when the vegetation is sparse, I can tell the property is well maintained.
Each bush trimmed perfectly, each flower bed well groomed.
Someone has taken very good care of this place.
I imagine it would be spectacular in the summer.
The exterior of the home is a mix of dark stone and light siding, giving it a modern feel despite its age.
A large stained-glass window hangs above the entrance, marked by a wooden sign over the door with jagged, carved letters: CLEARWATER PACK.
Two swings rest on the wrap around porch, overlooking the lawn where two bare poles stand erect.
They must have tucked a volleyball net away for the season.
“My mom would love this,” Evan murmurs. “God, look at that balcony. It’s incredible.”
Though beautiful, the house also reveals something else: this pack is clearly established, and possibly quite large in size. And we already know they don’t trust vampires.
“We need to be careful,” I say to him quietly.
Evan lets out a cold laugh. “They nearly killed you, Jer. I’m not exactly putting them on my Christmas list.”
Forest and his second in command wait for us by the porch as the others go inside.
“Just stay close to me, okay?”
He reaches for the handle. “I will if you will.”
As we walk toward a den full of wolves, I can hear Evan’s heart beating a mile a minute. He’s nervous, despite how confident he seems.
That makes two of us.
Forest leads us up a set of stairs and through a heavy wooden door. The other shifters immediately turn left, disappearing into a small room. Forest grabs clothes from a chair by the door and slips them on.
My jaw drops as we enter the foyer. Their home is just as beautiful on the inside as it is outside.
Dark stone covers the entry floor, turning into a deep maple-colored hardwood covering the entire house which is set up in a lovely open floor plan.
Three red couches and a matching loveseat are set up by a stone fireplace, draped in ivory or black blankets.
To our right is the kitchen and dining room.
A platter of fresh waffles rests on top of a long, oak table, where a man and woman are talking to a toddler in the woman’s lap.
The toddler stretches his arms out toward us, and it makes the couple look up.
The moment the woman sees me, her smile disappears and she tucks the child close to her chest. The man next to her stands so abruptly it knocks his chair over.
“You brought one of them here?”
Forest holds his hand up. “They are here on my invitation.”
The woman growls and hurries out of the room with the child.
Evan furrows his brows at me, obviously confused how they can tell I am a vampire from across the room. But I couldn’t explain it even if I tried. It’s just something we know. Something in our coding that recognizes other supes. I gained the sense the moment I was turned.
An older woman with flowing black hair steps out from the pantry carrying a bottle of syrup. She startles when she sees us, sending the bottle skittering across the floor. It crashes into the kitchen island before spinning around in an endless circle.
Her eyes never leave us. “What’s going on?”
Forest gestures to us. “This is Jericho and Evan. I’ve invited them here for breakfast.”
The woman’s eyes widen, and the man near the table fists his hands before snarling and rushing at us. On instinct, I drop my fangs and step closer to Evan, but Forest steps in the way, blocking the shifter from getting to me. A shifter protecting me? That’s a first.
“They are not our enemy, Neal,” he says in a calm but firm tone.
“You actually trust them?” Neal sneers. “After what they did to our pack?”
Forest doesn’t flinch. “We all used to trust vampires, did we not? I’m only asking you to trust this one. I believe Jericho can help us. They have information about Foxx.”
Neal shakes his head, ignoring his alpha as he continues to glare at me.
Without warning, an imperceptible force presses against me, making me take a step back. When Forest speaks again, his voice is deeper. “You will not harm them, and you will hear them out. All of you. Do I make that clear?”
Jasmine bows her head slightly while Neal’s mouth snaps shut. His eyes still blaze with hate, but when he finally nods, the pressure in the room eases.
The gravity in Forest’s alpha command lingers in the air, daring anyone to disobey.
Defying a direct order from an alpha could mean death.
Their instincts would never allow it. If it had that effect on me, it must be incredibly powerful.
I wasn’t expecting to feel it. I look to Evan, but he seems completely unfazed.
“I’m offering them refuge for the time being, and I expect everyone to be civil,” Forest says.
Jasmine straightens. “What do you mean you’re offering them refuge? You’re not letting them stay here? After what they did to Sasha?”
“And they trespassed on our property!” Neal adds.
Forest raises a hand toward them. “I’ll explain everything in a minute, but as I said, they’ve agreed to help us.”
“We haven’t agreed to anything,” I say, needing to make our terms clear. “We only said we’d hear you out.”
Forest nods. “Yes, I suppose that’s true. But please, everyone. Let’s have breakfast and we can talk while we eat. I’m sure everyone has worked up an appetite after the… rush of this morning.”
A room of panicked eyes drift toward us.
Evan clears his throat. “I’m sorry about the trouble. I had no idea we were in shifter territory when I parked.”
Forest gives us an apologetic smile, then begins a round of introductions. “That’s my sister, Jasmine, and her two children are Rowen and Ivy. You’ve met them already. They should be returning… ah yes, here they are.”
The siblings appear from the side room in fresh clothes and glare at us as they pass.
The blood connection explains their shared alpha aura.
But with so much alpha blood, it means this is a powerful pack.
Not one to mess around with. And certainly not one I can fight on my own.
We’re screwed if they decide they don’t trust us.
Forest tips his head at the last person to come out of the room.
“You met Jameson Grant, our second in command. He goes by Grant.” We only saw him in wolf form.
As a human, Grant towers over us, with broad shoulders and light eyes.
“The man in front of you is Neal. His mate, Taren, is the one who left the room with their son, Aster. There are two others in our pack, Red and Sage, but they are gone at the moment. They should be back tomorrow.”
Nine wolves, not counting the child. That’s definitely too many for me to fight off should this go south. I clench my teeth and give what I hope is a reassuring smile. It’s not easy to do when everything in me is telling me to run.
“Neal, get your mate please. I want everyone present for this.”
Neal stomps out of the room. The rest of us sit around the table, wooden chairs scraping against the hardwood as we all awkwardly find a seat.
Forest takes the chair at the head. “Please, eat,” he says, offering each of us a plate. I shake my head, wrinkling my nose at the food. Even the mixed scents of buttermilk and fried eggs make my stomach clench.
Evan hesitates, but then tentatively reaches for a piece of bacon.
Forest, Rowen, and Ivy all dig in while Jasmine and Grant sit still as stones in their seats, their attention fixed on me.
When Neal and Taren return, they stand in the doorway with Aster in Taren’s arms. The little boy is holding a stuffed bear.
“I am sorry for my pack’s behavior,” Forest says. “It’s been a difficult time for us. As I told you, we lost a pack member a few months ago, and the pain is still quite fresh.” He glances at Taren, his voice catching. “It was Taren’s sister, Sasha.”
Shit. No wonder Taren looks like she wants to rip my throat out. I can’t even blame her.
“I’m really sorry for your loss,” I say, leaning forward. “But let me make this perfectly clear. I had nothing to do with her death, and believe me when I say this: the man who is responsible? I want him dead just as much as you. His entire coven for that matter. They can all burn in hell.”
Taren shifts on her feet. “You know Foxx?”
I nod. “Alexander Foxx is my sire.”
Everyone gasps, and Neal snarls, standing in front of his mate. “What?”
Forest opens his mouth, but I cut him off. “I do not serve him, nor do I have even a shred of respect for him. He assaulted me, nearly killed me, then turned me against my will. I promise you, if there’s anything I want from that asshole, it’s to see him go up in flames.”
Silence fills the room as they look around.
“How long has it been since you were turned?” Jasmine asks. “If you don’t mind me asking.”
I don’t even need to think about it. “Forty-three weeks and five days.”
She seems surprised by my exact count. Or maybe that I’m still so young. Her attention darts to her children, no doubt wondering if I am in control of my bloodlust.
Grant raps a knuckle on the table. “Forty-three weeks… is that January?”
I nod. Every day since then has felt like an eternity.
“You were turned after he took over the club, then.”
I relinquish a nod. “It’s… how he found me.”
“I’m not surprised. It’s how he’s scouting most of his victims these days,” Forest says.
Evan and I exchange a look. Victims? As in, more than one?
But if that’s true, then why have they still been chasing me all these months?
“You seem surprised. You weren’t aware?” Jasmine asks.