Chapter 22
VESSA
On a bustling Saturday afternoon, Nell and I head into town.
The streets are flooded with tourists who trickle off a massive cruise ship docked in the harbor.
Six-inch pumps lift her well above me, a reminder to everyone who the most confident woman in Tukkon is.
Despite carrying the extra weight in her front, to my astonishment, she doesn’t miss a step.
Wobbling in my own stilettos, my protesting groan is slightly more obnoxious than I intended.
In the tinted reflection of a storefront window, I pause to admire my glamorous transformation, courtesy of Nell.
My hair has been curled in large ringlets, secured low and off to one shoulder.
Beneath my coat is a fitted magenta dress with a keyhole neckline that is sure to catch my handsome date’s eyes.
At five minutes past six, Nell and I stroll through doors of Tukkon Motors.
A young man who appears to be about the same age as Nell stands behind the counter.
I immediately recognize him as the young boy from the igloo photo on Axe’s dresser, all grown up.
His ebony hair is swept up in a messy bun, dark eyes locked onto the computer as he chats with a customer on the phone.
Nell fights back a cringe. Something tells me it doesn’t have to do with the grease coating his considerably toned arms.
I do a slow turn, scanning the small shop.
The waiting room is simple, complete with comfy leather chairs and a coffee machine, which I imagine Axe helps himself to regularly.
Photos of old motorcycles and fishing boats adorn the walls, as well as several prized stuffed salmon mounts.
In the far-left corner is a security camera monitor which pans between the back entrance, side entrance, garage, and another room which shows Axe conversing with four heavyset men.
In his arms, he flips over a long barrel hunting rifle, explaining the features of the weapon.
Back in the foyer, Nell grows fidgety. She ceases chewing on her lip to whisper something in my ear when the attendant slams the phone down in the cradle.
“I apologize for that, ladies,” he says, grinning at Nell in particular. Then, he turns to face me. “You must be Vessa. It’s great to finally meet you. I’m Solmuk, Axe’s apprentice.”
“Pleased to meet you, Solmuk,” I reply.
His smile widens as he rounds the end of the counter, looking at the Beta, who might just implode if she tries to breathe. “Nell. Wow, you look amazing. Congrats on the baby!”
Flustered by the compliment, Nell turns her back to him and hastily bids me goodnight. “You two enjoy yourselves.”
Clearly, she isn’t referring to Solmuk and I.
The apprentice clears his throat. “If you don’t mind waiting just a few minutes, I think Axe should be wrapping up soon with the last client. Doesn’t sound like these guys are gonna make a move today. I can take you to his office if you’d like to wait there.”
“That would be great,” I oblige.
Solmuk swings around to lock the front door to the shop before gesturing for me to follow him down the hall.
“Axe and I go pretty far back. Our families have been allies for two hundred and fifty years. Between the ambitious frontiersman and sporadic vampire attacks, the Skornokovys have always looked out for us. My ancestor, Chief Ujurak, founded this town and the treaty that exists between our two species.”
Holy shit. He is not just an apprentice. He is the heir to the Tilaak chiefdom.
While passing through the motorcycle garage, my eyes roam across the photographs and memorabilia from Axe’s days serving along humans in the army’s special forces.
The walls hold several framed images of his unit, his battalion insignia, and a group of proud, scrappy guys in sports jerseys.
With cropped hair, he looks rather spirited. Maybe even a little mischievous.
“Axe could’ve made a real career with the enforcers.
I mean, he understands every piece of these weapons, inside out.
Sometimes I wonder if the man himself is a machine, you know?
The army took notice of that, not to mention his obvious level of fitness.
While he was deployed in Marsda, a commanding officer offered him a spot on the elite brigade, bypassing all the training camps, which is completely unheard of,” Solmuk gushes.
“'Course, he had to turn it down though.”
I nod. “Duty calls.”
He snorts. “Shit, if I had a dollar for every time I heard a Skornokovy say that . . .”
The two of us turn the next corner, momentarily glimpsing the showroom.
Solmuk knocks on the doorframe and peeks his head through with a wave.
Donning a lavish sweatsuit, the client faces Axe from the opposite end of the counter; two bald men with deep tans and a third with a full scruffy beard remain behind him on standby.
Their attention immediately shifts to me when I cross the threshold—never mind the loaded magazine Axe is holding.
Whatever Axe is explaining, his words trail off as he looks over at me. But when I say a polite hello, the room takes on the energy of a live wire.
The client’s eyes widen as he takes me in, tongue darting out like he’s trying to taste the aura of me. His escorts cock their heads, glancing at each other as if to confirm something unsaid.
Excusing himself, Axe stomps over and puts a hand on Solmuk’s shoulder. Desperation sears in those cobalt eyes when he whispers something in his apprentice’s native language. Judging by the tone, it’s something along the lines of get her out of here.
It happens in a split second after the exchange of words.
Solmuk throws us down behind the door and reaches into his shirt with his right hand. Checking his bullet chamber, he swears. Axe whirls and the men pull out their pistols, one of them shifting right before our eyes into lycan form.
Shouting ensues between the client and his men. The right-flanked hitman fires upon Axe, shooting him twice in the chest. The Alpha stumbles and slumps behind the counter.
I don’t even hear myself scream. The ringing in my ears overpowers it.
Solmuk nudges me further back. Another bullet sails past us, sniping a picture off the wall. Axe coughs, rolling onto his side. His eyes meet his apprentice’s, thrusting a cartridge across the hall floor. Right into Solmuk’s grasp.
The massive wolf leaps over the counter then, pinning Axe to the floor. I take cover behind the doorframe, feeling a panic rise inside of me. I quickly steal a look back at Axe, feeling instant relief. There’s a thick vest peeking out of his red flannel.
Axe fires straight into the wolf’s side.
The beast’s teeth clamp down on his shoulder with a final roar, becoming man again when another bullet pierces the glass, sending shards into his eyes.
Shoving out from underneath, Axe pulls out a hatchet and buries it into his chest over and over, until the sternum bursts with a violent crack.
Four more shots are exchanged between the two sides, blowing the hall door open. Bullets shatter glass barriers and knock frames and weapons off the wall behind the counter. Solmuk attempts another shot, nicking the client on the elbow. He hollers in pain and drops his piece on the floor.
“Why are they doing this?” My voice comes out as a rasp.
Solmuk fires off another shot and ducks down to my side.
“I need to find a new position. Go crawl over to the office and lock the door. Hurry.”
Solmuk provides cover as I shift onto all fours. But I ignore his instructions. Frantically, I make my way over to where Axe lies, still coughing next to the bloody corpse.
“Vessa!” Solmuk hisses.
Axe jolts, rolling and tucking me beneath him. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”
“Can you shift?”
He shakes his head. “Can’t. It’s forbidden here.”
Slipping a hand beneath his shirt, I fish around and find a gun tucked into the back of his jeans. His hand clamps over mine before I can even grip it. “I don’t think so.”
Another body flings over the counter, tearing Axe away. He grips his bloody shoulder, but not fast enough to strike. Axe takes hold of the assailant’s arm and twists it backwards before turning the blade on the man’s throat. I turn my face as fresh blood pools onto the floor.
“It’d be a shame to wound the girl,” the client calls out. Just as he says it, two more reinforcements file into the storeroom.
In my periphery, Solmuk marks them. Axe scans the room through the demolished glass, then flicks his head downwards. “Left ankle.”
Keeping low, I roll up the pants and unholster the small revolver strapped to his ankle. He mounts to his knees. I bite my lip, words evading me in the moment of terror. Every muscle in my body is trembling.
“Stay down,” he orders. And then he stands.
Bullets whizz by, another colliding with the strap of his vest. But Axe doesn’t falter—he puts down the shooter in half a second, followed by his partner.
Solmuk seizes the moment to make a mad dash.
Falling to my side, he reaches around the corner of the register counter but immediately retracts his weapon. “Shit,” he curses. “I’m out.”
A sudden jolt of adrenaline rattles through me, propelling me to my knees.
Slowing my exhales, I ready my aim. Time grinds to a halt as I narrow in on my moving target: the client’s last guard, slowly approaching, gun pointed straight at Axe.
He knows Solmuk’s clip is empty. He thinks there’s only one man standing in his way.
“Put it down, Skornokovy,” the client barks. “You’re done.”
“We can talk about lowering weapons if you let these two leave,” he counters.
The brawny male chuckles. His black eyes twinkle with amusement. “How about a new deal? Your pretty little girlfriend leaves with me, and in exchange I don’t bury the next bullet in her skull.”