2. Harper
CHAPTER TWO
harper
We met Ryker in my official living space: the fourth-floor apartment Rhone kept moving my shit back to.
There was music floating out of it into the hallway, through the door that sat propped open with one of my most expensive black heels.
The red leather on the bottom was wrecked.
I should've cared, but didn't.
Bloom winced and eased it out from under the door while I stepped inside.
The couch was occupied by not one but two enforcer pairs. They were both making out like the other person's mouth was their only possible source of air.
I should've envied them, but I looked at them, and felt nothing.
The only person who really made me feel anything anymore was Rhone. Bloom came in second, but I actually tried with her. I didn't with anyone else.
"I'm sure this will come out," Bloom said quickly, trying to rub what was clearly a slice and scratch in the shoe’s leather.
"It won't."
My gaze landed on Ryker, who was leaning up against a wall with a bottle of beer in his hand, laughing at something another man was saying.
So unlike Rhone.
The Beta didn't possess the ability to laugh. Or even smile. That was my theory, anyway. I’d never seen him make either expression, and I saw him all the time.
Whatever he looked like didn’t register for me enough to notice. My fangs were throbbing too violently.
Ryker lifted a hand in greeting, his smile widening when he saw me.
I forced myself to wave back.
This was for my stability's sake.
...And maybe just a little to prove to Rhone that I could feed on someone other than him without ripping their throat out like he thought I would.
Also, maybe because I thought it would piss him off a little, and he was a constant pain in my ass.
"What are the odds that Rhone kills me for this?" I muttered to Bloom, as we crossed the apartment. She was going to lecture someone for wrecking my shoe, but I’d pretend not to hear.
She insisted on being overprotective of me now that I'd changed. It made her feel better, so I tried not to be annoyed. My bloodlust kept my mind occupied enough that I usually succeeded.
"Maverick would get involved, so it's a solid zero percent," Bloom whispered back.
I kind of wished it was higher.
Couldn’t tell her that, though.
The guy talking to Ryker walked toward Bloom, leaving me to the enforcer.
"Finally made a jailbreak?" he teased.
"Something like that."
He didn’t need to know that my incarceration was by choice. Or that Rhone was constantly trying to drag me back into a normalish life.
I glanced at the other guy Ryker had been talking to, who was now chatting with Bloom while she moved through the kitchen at vampire speed. My eyes were fast enough to track her when she did that, which was debatably the single perk of my transformation.
It looked like she was making cookies.
A peace offering for when Maverick inevitably found out what she'd plotted, probably. Some of the party guests must've brought the ingredients, because I hadn't ever cooked in there.
I couldn’t even keep real food down, and I only ever stayed in the apartment long enough to repack my hiking bag and carry my stuff upstairs again.
Ryker’s hand landed on my hip, and I stiffened.
He waited.
I lifted my gaze back to his.
His lips curved higher. "I prefer your eyes red."
They'd look horrible with my future pink hair.
I’d like the clash. It would fit my new, monsterly persona.
"Are you sure you want me to bite you?" I asked.
"Yeah. But I'd rather we do it in your room, in case it leads to something else."
Right.
We were going to have sex. I’d realized that. It just hadn’t set in.
We’d been together a few times, before I devolved fully. When Bloom set the date up, she asked if I wanted to, and I had said yes.
Somehow, the sex was going to make me feel alive again. That was the hope, at least.
"I haven't been with anyone since I changed," I warned. "I don't know what it'll be like."
Or if I would like it.
Or if I'd vamp out on him in the process.
"I can take it." He smiled, and I saw a fucking dimple.
He was charming and attractive.
Logically, I knew that. Some part of me did, at least. But after all the time I'd spent fighting my body's desire for Rhone, all I wanted was that rough, brutal bastard.
And blood.
Endless, delicious blood.
Pools of it.
Lakes of it.
Torn throats, and—
Fuck.
I was about to spiral.
My fangs had lengthened and were throbbing, too.
I took his hand, leading him into the apartment’s bedroom. When I glanced over my shoulder, Bloom gave me a thumbs-up.
I was a monster, and she was still giving me simple, human gestures like that.
God, I loved her.
Ryker closed the door behind us.
"If you need help, just yell, and someone will come in here," I said.
"I can handle you, Harp."
I hated that nickname. Always had. It was even worse than Trouble, which Rhone sometimes called me.
But at least Ryker wasn't afraid of me.
He sat on the edge of the bed, and I straddled his lap, my knees digging into the mattress and my fangs now throbbing even harder. They didn't care who I bit, as long as they got to bathe in blood.
I missed my old self.
The thought flitted through me, and was gone just as fast.
She had died when Velour snapped her neck.
The sound still echoed in my mind at random times. So did the feeling of the disease rolling through my veins, taking over and infecting me, triggered by the stop of my heart.
The crack of my spine repairing itself had been even more gruesome than the one that had accompanied my temporary death. I heard that, too.
All the time.
"You're beautiful," Ryker said, his hand trailing over my protruding hip bone.
I had been beautiful, before. Strong and snarky and kind. Exactly who I chose to be, and loved.
I didn't know who or what I was anymore, but I wasn’t beautiful.
I didn’t even want to be that, now.
So, I kissed Ryker.
Mostly so he'd stop talking.
I'd hoped it would stir something inside me. It did, when my fang nicked his lip and the faintest taste of his blood was on my tongue. He didn't jump away, either.
He pulled back, still grinning as he tipped his head to the side for me.
I'd bitten Rhone enough times to know that my instincts would take me straight to his jugular. Sure enough, my teeth were sinking into his throat a heartbeat later.
He didn't smell or taste like marshmallows, the way Rhone did.
But blood was blood, and it sated the endless craving I had.
I drank deeply.
I released his vein long enough to pull his shirt over his head. Mine followed it.
I glutted myself on his blood while he fucked me, and it wasn't great, but it was okay.
Okay was better than anything else I had felt in too long.
When I stumbled out of the bedroom reeking of Ryker ten minutes later, my hunger wasn't anywhere near sated.
I wanted more.
More sex.
More blood.
More feelings.
I couldn't let myself have more, obviously. I was dangerously full already, and if I let myself continue reveling, I'd be lost to the pleasure of actually having my hunger sated.
I’d devolve, and stay that way for at least a few hours.
Oren had drilled it into me:
Small meals until I could both handle the hunger and acknowledge when I was full.
He didn't approve of how small my meals actually were, but he accepted that it was up to me. Him and Sutton were using similar methods on the pack's other newly turned vampire, and they worked on her. Riley was coping with everything better than I was, but she hadn't killed anyone when she turned.
She hadn't had her neck snapped by the guy she was screwing.
She hadn't heard her mother tell someone to kill her.
And she had never fully devolved. Which was the main factor, according to Rhone and Oren and Nolan and Maverick and Sutton.
They probably only kept me alive for my best friend. I was pretty sure they were afraid of what Bloom would do if she lost me.
I was too.
It was why I was playing along, and trying to stay alive.
I was buying her time to adjust to her new home. Her new mate bond. Her new pack.
She may not realize it, but she was making friends. Learning to rely on people other than me for a whole host of things, too.
I wasn’t trying to survive forever. I was just trying to make my death easier for the last person in the world who loved me.
That was the heart of the difference between how I was coping and how Riley was. She had been dying before, and vampirism was a fresh start for her.
It was my living hell.
Ryker went over to the couch the other guy in the room occupied. The enforcer couples were gone, but the guy obviously hadn't tried to flirt with Bloom. That would’ve been a death sentence.
Bloom was in fact making cookies, and hadn’t shared them with anyone in the room.
She slid one over to me, lifting an eyebrow. I heard the question she didn't ask.
Was it good?
I lifted a shoulder, and didn't touch the cookie. Wasn’t in the mood to puke it up.
Bloom smiled. She was aware enough of my current state to know that a shrug was a good thing for me.
The front door slammed open, and the Beta stepped into the apartment.
My entire body flooded with what I tried to convince myself was anger as I took in all six-and-a-half feet of the muscle and tattooed olive skin that was Rhone.
His stubble was longer than usual, and his black hair was tied back in its typical bun. There were a few loose strands hanging around his face, but he hadn't left them there on purpose.
Those pieces broke because of the rough way he always did his hair, and they wouldn't stay in the bun because of it.
His gaze swept the room, landing on me and staying.
His nostrils flared, and his eyes narrowed.
There was no way he could smell sex on me from all the way over there, right?
The way he stalked toward me, clenching something in his fist that swung with his movements, made me vaguely consider making a run for it.
I hadn't done anything wrong, so I stayed where I was.
I picked up the cookie Bloom had slid to me and forced myself to take a small bite, just so Rhone wouldn't get on my case about my refusal to eat for the thousandth time.
"Maverick's looking for you," he said to Bloom. "Don't ignore your mate."
"Yes sir," Bloom drawled, clearly unimpressed by the Beta's orders.
She was deeply in love with the Alpha, but that didn't mean she was going to roll over and obey him on everything. They were equals. He wasn't her Alpha any more than he was her boss.
Rhone took my chin in the hand that wasn't holding whatever was dangling from his fist, and he leaned toward me as he tilted my head back.
"What are you—" I started, but the Beta cut me off.
He sniffed my breath, and his wolfish snarl tore through the room loudly enough to make me go still.
My wide-eyed gaze cut to Bloom's.
She was frozen, and her eyes met mine.
The question in both of ours was loud.
WHAT THE HELL?
"She didn't rip his throat out when she fed from him," Bloom said quickly. "We were testing it. She drank more than she usually does, too, so that's good. Right?"
Rhone straight-up ignored her as he crouched down in front of me.
My eyes widened further as he leaned his nose to the center of my thighs, pulled one of my far-too-responsive legs to the side, and sniffed.
The roar that escaped him could've rattled the whole fucking tower.
He tossed something over my head and strode toward the door, snarling, "Hallway, now."
I rose to my feet.
Bloom grabbed my arm, stopping me. "Not you."
I watched Ryker stroll out after the Beta, the satisfied smirk he wore making me feel slightly ill about screwing him.
The feeling passed quickly.
Hello again, bloodlust.
"I don't think he was trying to say that you would rip someone's throat out if you fed from them," Bloom whispered, when the door was shut behind the enforcer. "I think he was saying that he would."
Oh.
That was significantly different.
And I'd fucked Ryker, too.
There was a loud thud, like someone had been thrown into a wall. I didn't have to wonder who had done the throwing. Rhone was the Beta for a reason.
"If he's feeling possessive of you, and you fed from someone else, on top of having sex..." Bloom dragged a hand over the top of her head. "Dear lord. We’re going to need a lot more cookies."
She started toward the hall. "Shower fast. Get his scent off you. I'll keep Ryker alive until Mav gets here."
That was an idea.
But it wasn't the best one.
Another thud sounded.
Bloom opened the door, and I heard the crack of flesh and bone. Ryker's pained groan followed.
If by some ridiculous twist of fate, Rhone was feeling possessive of me, there was only one way to handle it. I'd seen how Maverick reacted to Bloom even suggesting she was interested in someone else, and this was far more than a suggestion.
I was the only one who would make any kind of an impact here.
I tugged my shirt over my head, revealing my bare tits as I strode out of the room at far, far slower than vampire speed.
Rhone had Ryker pinned to the wall, his fist around the enforcer’s throat.
His gaze shot to me immediately, and his eyes followed the motion. They narrowed to slits as they moved down my figure. The rage that flooded them would've been enough to take my breath away before I'd become what I was.
It wasn't like I had any sense of modesty. I'd devolved into a monster in public. I'd seen the videos, just like everyone else with internet access.
Rhone had at least a few inches and fifty to a hundred pounds of muscle on the enforcer, who was probably younger and less experienced.
Or weaker, at least.
I would play dirty to keep Ryker alive, even though I didn't have any particular feelings for him.
I just couldn’t live with anyone else's death on my head.
Rhone's grip on Ryker's throat tightened, a silent warning.
He wanted to play?
I’d win. I had nothing left to lose except Bloom, and she didn’t give a damn about whether or not I exposed myself in public.
I lowered my hands to my hips. The old, ratty shorts hung off them loosely, and my threat was just as loud as his.
I was calling his bluff, and daring him to call mine.
His jaw clenched.
If I took the shorts off, everyone in the hallway—and there were a lot of them—would see my entire body bare. And the cum dripping down the insides of my thighs that wasn't Rhone's.
Even if it had been the Beta’s, instinct told me that he wasn't as open to his woman walking around smelling like sex as his best friend was.
Ryker tried desperately to suck in air, but nothing came through.
His face was bruised and bloody, but I didn't look at him.
At the sight of blood, my fangs would descend again, despite the way I'd just gorged myself. They were throbbing again already, just from the scent of it.
Rhone’s fist tightened further on the enforcer’s throat.
Guess he thought I really was bluffing.
I pushed my shorts down my thighs.
Another roar exploded from the werewolf, and a moment later, he’d thrown me over his shoulder and hauled me into the apartment he so badly wanted me to live in.