TWENTY-ONE
Dimitri is quiet as he drives us through the crowded LA streets, never giving more than a grunt when the other drivers on the road seem hellbent on rearending us.
He’s had to veer into the bike lane more than a few times to keep the polished black SUV scratch-free.
I silently applaud his patience from the backseat as I ready my camera.
A new lens.
Fresh memory card.
Wiping the entire thing down with a microfiber cloth.
I don’t want to disappoint Nik, not when he’s promised nearly a month’s pay and even sent Dimitri to escort us there.
And yet, that’s not what I’m concerned about the most.
Maybe I don’t want to disappoint him for simply being me.
Someone at least three rungs beneath the top of the success ladder he stands on. Despite everything that’s happened, there’s still this nagging sensation at the back of my head, four words screaming louder than street noise. You aren’t good enough.
Courtney busies herself pressing every single button within reach, and she can’t seem to stop rubbing the custom leather seats.
“This is nice,” she whispers, and I nod in agreement.
“So, Dimitri.
How long have you worked at Volk?”
“I don’t work for Volk,” he responds, work coming out as vork .
“I am here because of Nikolai.”
Courtney gives a small laugh.
“What are you? His bodyguard?”
I don’t know if bodyguard is the word I’d use.
Nik is the last person that’d need protection, especially from anything human.
So why does Nik keep him around? Are they friends? Someone he can trust?
“I look out for Mr.
Vostik’s interests.”
Courtney leans forward, resting her forearms on the front seat.
“So, you’re like … his assistant?”
“Da,” he says.
“Assistant is fine.”
She raises a brow at me.
“Anything you can share with my friend, Natalie? Maybe something she should know before she gets in too deep?” Courtney winks at me but there’s only one thought crossing through my head.
Oh, if you only knew Court.
I can only imagine how she’d react to seeing a three-hundred-pound killing machine in the flesh.
The Nikolai he hides beneath his tight, defined skin.
She’d probably do what any rational person would.
Scream like hell and bolt in the opposite direction.
Dimitri continues to stare at the road in front of us, a firm grip on the wheel.
“Nikolai is best man I know.”
“And he’s incredibly hot,” she whispers again, elbowing my shoulder.
I return an elbow of my own to her side, ignoring the burn in my cheeks.
“How long have you known Nik?”
He draws a deep breath and sighs.
“Since we vere children.
My mother worked in the kitchens at the Vostik estate.
We lived in a small house on the property.
Nikolai would play with me and my baby sister.” Dimitri peers at me in the rearview mirror. “Ida.”
“Is she here in LA, too?” Courtney asks, pulling out her phone and illuminating the backseat.
She either dropped something or is searching for more buttons to press.
I’m not sure which.
He visibly stiffens, fingers curling tighter on the steering wheel.
“No.
Ida passed away many years ago.”
I see the flash of hurt in his eyes, the pain he holds behind his stern features.
Is this why Dimitri is … well, Dimitri? A stone wall void of any emotion? Even when he pulled me out of Nik’s loft during the full moon, he wasn’t panicking.
No, he was far too calm to be mere feet away from something capable of chewing on his intestines like sausage links.
Kind of hard not to be fearless while constantly surrounded by werewolves.
Fearless, or broken I guess.
“I’m sorry, Dimitri,” I say and rub his large shoulder, my palm smoothing over the cotton of his black blazer.
He doesn’t shake off my touch, nor does he seem to acknowledge it.
“I’ve had enough moons to mourn her, Ms. Nat.”
While Courtney may brush off his statement as some kind of language barrier and poor translation, I latch onto it.
Enough moons.
He’s had enough moons to mourn the death of his sister, but does that mean it happened on a full moon at the Vostik estate? Was she killed by someone in the pack? The question burns at my throat like bile begging to be spat out.
I can’t, though.
Not in front of Courtney.
So, I do the only thing I can.
I ignore it, biting down on my tongue and willing the thought away.
“You two will stay together tonight, yes?” he asks, once again looking at us from the rearview.
“That depends,” Courtney says with a devilish smirk.
“If this one ditches me again for Nikolai,” she coos each syllable of his name.
I swat at her leg, doing little else than widening that beaming grin of hers.
There’s a lot of people here tonight.” Dimitri slows the SUV and pulls over to the curb, stopping just before the entrance of Volk.
“Wouldn’t want either of you getting lost.”
He isn’t kidding.
Somehow, every other time I’ve been here pales in comparison to the pandemonium I witness now.
The line starting at the ropes doesn’t just wrap around the block.
No, it carries straight down three congested blocks, and more than a few people have no issue standing in the middle of the crosswalks if it means getting them inside sooner.
Paparazzi huddle near the front, cameras at the ready should a celebrity make an unexpected appearance.
This is without a doubt the biggest night of the year for Volk, and although I should be just as excited as the people in line, for some reason, I’m not.
This life, one filled with liquor, a new dance partner every night, and a hangover cured in time to do it all over again isn’t me.
Nik’s life … isn’t for me.
Dimitri opens the door for us, and at once a dozen cameras focus on the passenger side of the SUV.
Flashing lights not only blind the interior but the entire street.
I try and shield my face from the paparazzi’s assault, though my bag does little to stop it.
“Natalie?” Courtney says behind me above the music and voices vibrating the sidewalk.
“What in the hell is happening?”
I adjust the straps on my shoulders and smooth the dress down each thigh.
Grabbing her hand, I say, “Just go with it.
Pretend we’re famous.”
She smiles wide for the cameras, giving an elegant red-carpet pose.
When they clamor for more, snapping pictures as fast as their fingers will let them, Courtney whips her hair to the side.
“Oh, I’m way ahead of you.”
We strut up the carpeted steps of Volk, our arms interlocked.
Two average girls given the movie star treatment.
Dimitri follows close behind, never allowing more than a few paces between us.
The other bouncers part around our grand entrance, some nodding in Dimitri’s direction.
Two men open the doors for us when we approach, and the music inside is only outdone by the collective screams of the crowd.
The club lights are somehow more blinding than the cameras outside, and from one corner of Volk to the next, there’s enough people to make a fire marshal nervous.
Dimitri takes a post at the door and nods us off.
Guess we’re on our own.
I don’t know what it is about him, but whenever he’s nearby, I feel safe.
Protected.
Even if there’s a werewolf ready to make me their dessert, Dimitri will be there to pull me out.
Now that he's gone, and the doors swing to a close, a certain amount of unease settles in my skin.
A sort of nakedness in the most crowded room I’ve ever been in.
“Do you want a drink?” Courtney yells, her voice struggling to break through the deafening club.
I shake my head and retrieve my camera, using it to silently say, I’ve got work to do .
Courtney nods and maneuvers her way to the bar, leaving me to get started.
The first picture I take is of the dance floor, though with how many people are on it, the floor itself is practically hidden.
Then, the long stretch of the bar lined with sweaty-faced clubgoers.
The bartenders struggle to keep up with the raised hands holding cash, but everyone, and I mean everyone in Volk continues to dance to the rhythm roaring throughout the club.
Among all of the faces, I don’t recognize a single one.
Nik is probably here somewhere, but I still have yet to see him or his behemoth of a brother.
Both would be easy to pick out when they stand at least a foot above everyone else, and Viktor, two times as wide.
I’m not here for Nik, though.
This is a job, my highest paying one to date, and I am going to deliver what was agreed upon.
After that? Then, maybe, I’ll sneak off to his loft and see if he still has those chains out.
I take careful steps around those dancing, adding a few more pictures for good measure.
No one seems to notice, not when the flash of my camera blends in with the club lights.
Just a few more of the crowd and—
I slam my back into what I can only describe to be a brick wall.
It isn’t a wall.
There’s an impressive figure looming over me, and the heat radiating from his chest is all too familiar.
He’s here.
A small breath in is all I allow, letting the fire leave his body and ignite mine.
Nik.
I knew he wouldn’t let me navigate this place for long without finding me.
I turn, biting back the smile forming on my face.
“I was wondering where you—” The wind is punched from my lungs as I stare up at him.
Viktor.
Viktor fucking Vostik stands before me, his unnatural gray eyes piercing though the shadows of Volk.
He grins, but there’s nothing friendly in his expression.
It’s one that only spells death.
He peers at me for a moment, his gaze traveling down my neckline, and eventually, the camera in my hand.
Without a word, he plucks it from me and scrolls through each picture I’ve taken so far, one eyebrow raising.
I can’t move.
Christ, even my legs stay frozen despite the overwhelming urge to dash for the nearest exit.
Then, he brings the lens to me, his finger hovering over the button.
Is he? No, he’s not trying to take a picture of— A bright light flashes and small purple dots block out parts of his sinister face.
I do nothing else but stare up at him, pleading Nik is somewhere nearby.
Viktor holds the camera in front of me, his eyes fixed on mine.
When I take it from him, he leans in, bringing his mouth inches from my ear.
Terror skitters up each of my arms, leaving long, bumpy trails of goose bumps in its place.
“You should smile,” he says in a low growl.
“This is a party, after all.”
The hair at the back of my neck stands straight.
He knows.
I have no idea how, but now I am certain.
Viktor knows I am fully aware he’s a werewolf.
I can’t explain how or why, but there’s something telling in his horrible grin.
It’s like he’s waiting for me to run.
Waiting to unleash the animal lurking beneath, and he is more than ready to make me his prey the way a dog would chase a rabbit in a field.
This man, this monster I’ve been told is the epitome of savagery, is hunting me.
Viktor lifts his hand slowly, bringing it to my horrified face.
The nails on each finger grow and sharpen to a point, giving him an impressive set of claws.
No.
No, no, no.
My breath leaves me in one uncomfortable gasp.
I want to scream for help but there’s no point.
Not with the ear-splitting noise of Volk.
He has me cornered, and no one, not even the people dancing mere feet away even notice.
My body constricts.
Cramps. He’s going to kill me. Slash out my throat in front of a packed club who can’t be bothered. This is their night. Sure, there’s a girl spewing blood from her fucking neck, but hello ? This is their favorite song. For fuck’s sake. If there was ever a time I thought I wouldn’t survive the night, save for my first full moon with Nik, this is it. This is how I die.
Before his nails meet my skin, Viktor’s grin deepens.
“Brother,” he says loud enough to be heard and lowers his arm.
He isn’t looking at me anymore, but behind me.
I can’t prepare myself for what I see when I turn toward him.
His eyes don’t glow in that golden color I’ve become so fond of but are practically black and as murderous as Viktor’s.
Long tendrils of dark brown hair drape down each side of his face, giving way to the intimidating snarl wrinkling his nose and brow.
Nik growls at his brother, the sound outdoing the bass of the music.
And me? Well, I’m standing right fucking between them.