Chapter 38
Damon
Max insisted we get dressed before answering the door this time, and I couldn’t say I blamed him. With all the unexpected visitors of late, the last thing we wanted was to be caught with our pants down.
Or with no pants at all.
The person waiting for us on our front porch wasn’t a person at all. He was also the last creature I’d expected to come calling.
“Greetings, Alukah,” Conor teased as I swung open the door, if only to continue his favorite game of irritating Max.
Since Alukah apparently means “blood-lusting monster” in the Old Testament.
Or “horse-leech,” depending on who you ask.
“What a lovely surprise, Conor,” Max sighed before attempting to peer around his looming form. “Where is that charming mate of yours?”
“Magdalena is at home…” The mysterious man—or whatever he was—paused, closely observing Max’s face before continuing. “I didn’t feel it was safe for her to monitor the property with me—”
“I didn’t ask you to monitor the property!” Max snapped, crossing his arms and glaring defiantly. “In fact, I recall saying I had it handled just fine.”
Conor hummed in disapproval. “I don’t believe you do… and I’m clearly not the only one who had their doubts.”
What the fuck is that supposed to mean?!
Before I could demand he clarify—because he surely wasn’t referring to me and Star—Max brushed past him to step onto the porch and peer into the night.
“Who else is here? Oren?” Max growled, intently scanning the perimeter. “Or is it that other mate of yours—the one who crawled out of hell alongside you?”
Our visitor chuckled. “Firstly, hell is not where we originated, but that is a tale for another time…” He cocked his head, seeming genuinely confused. “And I had assumed you were the one responsible for the guardian angels who’ve been circling your property ever since she arrived.”
“Excuse you?!” Star cut in as Max spun to face him again. “What… What fucking guardian angels?”
“And what does this have to do with Pearl?” I demanded. “Are you implying she brought spies with her?”
Please don’t let that be what you’re implying…
It was Conor’s turn to sigh, as if we were the ones who’d shown up on his doorstep only to be infuriatingly vague. “That doesn’t matter now, since everyone has now convened at your groundskeeper’s cottage—to address the hostage situation.”
The… what…
“What hostage situation?!” Max barked as Star threw her hands in the air and exclaimed, “Way to bury the lede, weirdo!”
“Your pet werewolf is currently tied to a chair in his own home.” Conor jabbed a thumb over his shoulder in the direction of Chaz’s cottage before stepping aside to let us all out onto the porch. “So it felt prudent to alert you, as a courtesy.”
How thoughtful.
I was more concerned for Pearl’s well-being than Chaz’s, but before I could spiral—or race into battle myself—Max took control, just like he always did.
Does he even want to play this role?
“All right… I’ll go in first through the front door while Star circles to the back.” Max traced a finger over the porch bannister to illustrate the plan. “Damon, I want you to stay close to me in case Pearl attempts to capture you as well…”
Wait.
“What makes you think Pearl is the one who’s taken Chaz hostage?” I hissed, more than ready to defend my family from…
My family.
Fuck.
Max grimaced. “I know I shouldn’t assume, Damon, but even if it’s Vlad, she may be involved.”
No.
“Pearl was brought here by pack úlfr, Max,” I growled. “Cash is the one who told her about Live & Lurk and arranged for her to escape. That she found out we were here was a happy accident, but I don’t believe for a moment Pearl would alert Vlad to her whereabouts after so much trouble to get away.”
Hopefully…
“I see,” Max replied before clearing his throat. “It still may be Vlad behind all this—”
“Would you describe Vlad as a grotesque caricature of Count Orlok, complete with a cartoon Transylvanian accent?” Conor interrupted.
We all slowly turned to face the… whatever he was still lurking on our porch. “Yes,” Max carefully confirmed. “Is someone matching that description down at the cottage as well?”
“Yes.” Conor nodded serenely, burying the lede once again. “It now sounds as if the situation may be dire, so I shall meet you there.”
And with that, the fake priest raised his gaze to the heavens and disappeared from sight.
Well, I suppose we no longer need to lure Vlad here on our own…
“Okay, so which one of us gets to kill that rotting bat-boy?” Star cracked her knuckles, flashing her fangs and grinning maniacally. “Or should we just bum rush him as a group and rip him to shreds?”
As attractive as that sounded—especially coming from her—I knew what needed to happen in this scenario. “I think I should go in first.”
Max vehemently shook his head. “No. No, I don’t think that would be wise—”
“Because I’m the least threatening among us,” I finished, knowing he wouldn’t say that part aloud. “Which is exactly why it should be me.”
Let’s see how this goes…
Both my mates stared at me in silence for a moment, before Star gestured for Max to be the one to respond. Despite being equally protective of me, I knew she was deferring to him not out of submission, but because of a deep respect for our history together prior to her arrival.
As much as I adored our third’s fighting spirit, I equally appreciated how she knew when to offer silent support, but otherwise stay out of the fray.
She’s probably also interested in watching the fireworks from her front-row seat.
Max was clearly conflicted, and if I had to guess, it wasn’t only thanks to the prospect of me putting myself in harm’s way. It was no secret Max felt responsible for Chaz as well, and precious seconds were currently passing while the werewolf’s well-being was on the line.
I suppose it’s time for the family protector to receive a reminder.
“You don’t need to handle everything, Makisig,” I gently spoke. “Conor has been keeping an eye on things—whether or not you wanted him to—along with these other guardian angels. Star and I always have your back, and I daresay Pearl may surprise you as well.”
Again, hopefully…
My slightly wavering trust in Pearl’s loyalty needed to be shoved to the backburner. At this moment, the most important thing was for Max to trust us.
And our willingness to help him
Max nodded solemnly. “Very well. Star and I will sneak in through the back and follow your lead. Just…” He swallowed thickly, seeming overcome. “Please…”
“I’ll be careful, Sir.” I cupped his face and kissed him before smiling at both of them. “I promise.”
We parted ways after that. My mates headed into the forest to circle round while I bounded over the meticulously maintained gardens for the most direct—and visible—approach.
I want Vlad to see me coming.
I’d long suspected the ancient vampire’s overt disdain for Max was fueled by my mate daring to be his equal. Unfortunately for Vlad, his obsessive need to prove his supremacy over someone who didn’t look like him meant he’d never bothered paying me any mind.
In fact, he’d barely spoken two words to me during all the years we’d been forced to endure his presence at coven meetings, but that disinterest was a key element of my plan.
The better to fool him into thinking he has nothing to fear.
I saw no signs of Conor or any other “angels” along the way to my destination, even if I could feel multiple eyes upon me once I reached the cottage.
Hopefully, Vlad didn’t also bring backup…
Determined to maintain my role of a “pretty face” with no critical thinking to be found, I breezed through the front door without knocking.
“Chaz! Pearl!” I called out cheerfully—probably too cheerfully to anyone who actually knew me, but Vlad didn’t. “I need to borrow some… oh!”
I froze midstep as the door slammed shut behind me, and only some of my shock was fabricated.
What the hell is going on here?
Chaz was indeed tied to a wooden chair, and Vlad himself was looming nearby, but what gave me pause was Pearl standing above the werewolf with a small blade pressed to the side of his throat.
A blade that appeared to be burning his skin…
Wolfsbane.
I’d once discovered Max in possession of this deceptively pretty plant. At the time, he’d explained wolfsbane was poisonous to humans while also being incredibly dangerous to werewolves—both internally and externally.
After watching him grinding down the purple flowers to coat a blade with gloved hands, I’d carefully asked if there was a reason for him to have it. True to form, my mate had simply flashed me with one of his signature grins and said it was úlfr pack business.
So not to worry my pretty little head…
Not for the first time, I wished I hadn’t allowed Max to shut me out of that particular deal, while also knowing he would have rather died than involved me.
Well, now my pretty little head might save us.
The time for letting Max behave like a lone wolf was over, because I’d meant what I’d said. Our mates’ joy and pain was ours to carry.
And this debt is also mine.
Vlad cackled at the sight of me, clapping his bony hands together in morbid mirth. “What do we have here? Why… I do believe this is one of the fugitive vampires from my old coven! What an unexpected, yet delicious, development.”
This only caused my confusion to grow, because if Vlad was genuinely surprised to see me, then he hadn’t come here for us.
But how did he know to come here at all?
“Yes…” I slowly replied, wishing I knew whether Max and Star had crept in through the back door yet to hear this conversation. “We all left Los Angeles together, but my maker abandoned me soon after for his new mate. Chaz and I have stuck together ever since.”
Because he’s my…
My gaze shifted to the werewolf, only to find him dazed and panting, delirious from pain I could taste on the air. I glanced lower only to wince at the singed skin showing beneath his bindings, realizing he was truly incapacitated.
The rope must be dipped in wolfsbane as well…
Returning my attention to my old coven leader, I maintained my wide-eyed persona, forcing my voice to tremble. “W-why are you here?”
Vlad turned his wrinkled face toward Pearl and smiled adoringly. “Oh, I’m simply retrieving my wayward bride. Luckily for her, she at least served a purpose in providing me with a member of the úlfr pack.”
He was after Chaz this whole time?
Keeping my expression steady, I discreetly accessed the werewolf’s mind—something I hadn’t done since our earliest days together, back when I was still unsure where his loyalties lay.
I was hoping for any clues as to how he’d become tied up—how Vlad had entered the cottage in the first place—but all I picked up was a desperate plea on an endless loop.
“Don’t hurt my mate. Please, don’t hurt my mate…”
His mate?!
My gaze drifted to Pearl next. Her posture was defensive, shoulders drawn up near her ears as if expecting an attack any moment.
From Vlad or from me?
She refused to look my way, but seeing how her hand shook as she held the knife in a white-knuckled grip simultaneously enraged me and gave me hope.
Definitely Vlad.
“Pearl…” I addressed her while keeping one eye on the actual threat in our midst. “I know you don’t want to hurt Chaz—not with how much he cares about you…”
You would have to be blind not to see how smitten the werewolf was, but if he also saw her as his mate, that meant we were all one wrong move away from him shifting and turning this situation more volatile.
Which might not be the worst thing…
Pearl opened her mouth to reply, but then Vlad barked a laugh that startled both of us.
“A dog isn’t capable of advanced emotions like care or love.
” He spat out the last word like it had burned his tongue.
“Unfortunately, the only werewolves ever worth more than their pelts mysteriously disappeared after removing the last úlfr pack leader…”
What blood remained in my veins ran cold, but before I could ask more leading questions—anything to confirm my suspicions that Max was somehow involved in all this—Chaz growled.
“We always knew you were to blame for my father’s death, you worthless, reanimated corpse!” the normally cheerful werewolf snarled. “Fucking draugr!”
Vlad chuckled darkly. “I’m shocked you pups had enough collective brain-power to put that together, but, yes. I didn’t appreciate your father behaving as if he deserved my respect, so I enlisted a rival pack to put down the uppity mutt for me.”
By Selene…
Unlike vampires and our at times arbitrary laws, werewolves adhered to a strict code of ethics, and rule number one was that wolves were forbidden from killing each other outside of sanctioned fights to settle disputes.
That Vlad paid one of their own to do his dirty work was an insult on top of grievous injury.
For as far removed as I was from “pack business,” I still remembered the shockwave that rippled through the Los Angeles supernatural community the day Nicolaus úlfr was ambushed while he slept.
A most dishonorable death.
Despite the anguish Vlad had caused to me and my mates, I realized this was no longer our fight. Slowly edging toward the dining room, I watched in fascinated horror as Chaz’s skin sizzled beneath the ropes while he struggled to free himself.
C’mon, Chaz.
As arrogant as ever, Vlad simply laughed at the display.
“Even if you managed to break free, what do you plan to do, little úlfr? I am a vampire—a draugr as you so eloquently put it—and am older than you and your brothers combined.” He spread his hands and mockingly glanced around the room.
“Not that you have any family here to aid you now.”
Indignation washed over me. Chaz may not be a vampire, but he’d been a friend when my family needed one the most. I might even go so far as to say he was part of my family—especially if he was somehow Pearl’s mate.
Perhaps this is my fight after all.
Chaz had slumped over in the chair, no doubt feeling the blow of Vlad’s words, but before I could step in, the vampire drove the proverbial knife in deeper.
“In fact…” Vlad stepped closer—much closer than I would personally get to an angry werewolf. “The reason I knew to find both Pearl and you here—at this very cottage—was thanks to a helpful tip that came directly from a member of your pack.”
No…
I expected Chaz to give up entirely after hearing that devastating news, but the werewolf simply raised his head and grinned at the vampire in a way that sent a shiver down my spine.
“Yeah, Vlad, I know…” His already large canines lengthened, his arm muscles bulging as he began to shift. “And apparently, not even vamps have enough brainpower to avoid walking into a dog’s trap.”