The Willing (12 page)

We weren’t monsters of different
families anymore. Instead, we were four young women making fun of
popular culture. Enlightened individuals, of course. Finally, in
the early hours of the morning with me pretending to scratch my
face when I was, in fact, yawning, all of the good-natured
giggliness had been expelled from our systems.

Rachel grinned. “So, Emily of the
Lycanti. Tell us a story.”

And as if the long night had never
touched her, that girl talked and talked. She didn’t know any of
our names, but she told us her entire life story. I never realized
that a person could talk so much. It’s like she had no filter.
Anyone could hear her story and judge her however they wanted. I
tried not to. I knew what those iridescent blue eyes could do to a
woman’s senses.

Parts of it hurt. It hurt so bad that I
wanted to run away and not hear the rest of it. But like an addict,
I hung on for mention of Luka. I would have suffering Dying again
if I could just see Luka one last time. After all, you never forget
the man who loved you. It’s also pretty damn hard to forgive the
man who killed you.

At the very end of it, the emerald-eyed
Emily sat up in her bed, back ramrod straight as if she were Queen
of England. All of us were flabbergasted by her story. Some of it
didn’t seem believable, but then again, when you’re a vampire, lots
of things become believable. I think though, she finally surprised
Rachel at the end of her story.

“And that’s why I need your help,”
Emily told Rachel. “I need an army. A vampire army. And I need it
quick.”

Rachel stood there in silence for a
moment, weighing her options. Yes, Rachel is definitely the
level-headed one out of us. My mind was fluttering like a butterfly
on acid after that story. Delilah had let out a skeptical but
reverent “damn” to punctuate it. Rachel, however, had merely nodded
and accepted all of it as the daily travails of a Lycanti who
happened to be in our house after calling me by name.

“Can you help me?” Emily
asked.

Rachel’s silence did not stretch on for
much longer. Delilah and I had no right to answer Emily. Only
Rachel could decide for this house. That privilege is always
reserved for the Eldest Blood.

“Yes,” Rachel finally said. “But there
will be a price. A price measured in blood.”

Emily did not look shaken by Rachel’s
dramatic declaration.

She merely answered, “I understand. But
first, I need to find Shasta.”

Rachel’s eyes cut to me as she smiled
wide, her fang teeth showing. We all fed well that
night.

Emily

“That wasn’t what it looked like,” I
stammered. “We were just talking.”

Ranier just smiled wanly. I suddenly
realized my mouth was excruciatingly dry. My lips felt cracked. My
hair hadn’t been brushed in days. I knew that Ranier, with his cold
eyes, took in every single detail and laid it against his previous
opinions of me. Or perhaps I was imagining the frigidity. He had
been quite open and warm during my first visit, lightly teasing me
and making me feel welcome while being surrounded by Lycanthrope at
Maria’s wedding two years ago. His accent, though thicker than his
son’s, held none of the exotic sexiness of Luka’s. They both had
the broad shoulders and the height of the healthy Lycanthrope male,
but Ranier carried it with the confidence born of his leadership.
His similarities to Luka, as well as their striking differences,
only served to remind me how far away from home I was at that
moment.

“Emily,” he said earnestly, eyes aglow.
“This is of the greatest importance. You have come into my
household protected by my son, my heir. Yet I have other loyalties
to the Lycanthrope. The northern Clan already sent warning of your
treacherous attack on Maria.”

I began to protest, but he waved it
away.

“I have known Maria for longer than you
have been alive. I know how provocative she can be. I daresay that
your impertinence did not do much to improve her
temper.”

He waited for me to respond, standing
there in a business suit which seemed conspicuous against my scenic
view of palm trees. His crossed arms and expectant expression did
nothing for my courage. I wanted to rage and cry against the
injustices Maria had done to me, but he had already clearly stated
his allegiances. Now he would attempt to see which side I was on
and how becoming a Lycanti had changed my personality.

I smoothed down the blanket over my
lap, trying to look composed. “Luka is my protector while I am
here.”

As patiently as ever, Ranier said,
“Leave my son out of your mechanisms for now. He has nothing to do
with what is happening between you and Maria.”

“Well,” I said hesitantly, choosing my
words carefully. “Actually he does. Maria has his son locked away
somewhere with a Lycanthrope family.”

The patriarch’s face registered
confusion for a brief instant. “Alexander? You must be mistaken,
child. His mother brought him safely to us weeks ago.”

I took a deep breath. “Not Alexander.
Micah. My son. My son by Luka.”

His face turned to stone. I could tell
that he was processing information very quickly, rejecting the idea
out of hand, but then reconsidering what he had walked in on
moments before. He seemed to carefully taste the words in his mouth
before he said them. “You want your child.”

I fought to remain calm. The thought of
seeing Micah again had set my heart to battering its cage. “Yes. Of
course I do.”

Still the words simmered before coming.
“You…are expecting me to get him for you.”

He had not asked a question. No,
instead he had guessed my intentions, saving me the pain of begging
or colluding. I just nodded. I wanted to see what he offered before
I said anymore.

Ranier had fought many battles, both as
a Lycanthrope in the modern world and as the leader of the southern
Clan. To have survived this long in such a brutal world, he was not
without a certain amount of cunning.

Finally, he offered. “The Mexican Clan
will not take such an insult likely. It is possible that there will
be a great rift between our houses if we retrieve Luka’s child from
Maria’s protection. I am led to believe that she took the child to
protect him, as you are not in a state of being fit to be a
mother.

“No, do not speak. I am merely relaying
her words sent to me. I cannot give you what you want, which is
blood and revenge. I can see the pain in your face that she has
caused you and the wounds on your body. No doubt she will kill you
next time. Even though those things are out of my control, I can,
however, bring my grandson home to his rightful family. To
stay.”

I glared at him now. “He is my
child.”

“He is a Lycanthrope child. A pure
blood. He will stay with his Clan. Otherwise, I cannot help
you.”

The thought of Micah being sprinted
from one werewolf house to another sat heavily on me. “How do you
know I’m not lying to you?”

Ranier smiled, all his teeth suddenly
on display, giving him a feral expression I recoiled from. “Because
if you do lie to me, sweet Emily, I will personally eat your
intestines while you writhe in agony. Not even the affections of my
son will save you.”

I did not allow the image to shake me.
“I want them all dead,” I demanded.

He frowned, a very calculating frown.
“I cannot wipe out an entire compound. I will not endanger members
of this house for one child. However, I will send several members
of my own Blood to procure this child.”

I was suddenly shaking away the image
of one of his Blood who had attempted to turn me into a
vampire—anathema to any true Lycanthrope, worse than dead. Vermin.
That evil-eyed man forced himself into me and spread my blood all
over a bed before Will burst in and saved my life with the Change.
I knew what Ranier’s Blood could and would do at the command of
their leader.

I grimaced, and he definitely noticed.
“Then I want as many of them dead as possible. They’re helping the
Lycanti spread.”

“I do not need you to educate me on the
movements of the Lycanti,” he replied snippily. “I assure you that
we have the West Coast pack in a firm grip. Maria’s fingers are
nowhere on that grip, though she thinks they are.”

I filed away that piece of information
for later use. It could have upset my plans for Josh and his pack
if left unknown.

“You will lead the men and women who
fight for your son,” Ranier said promptly after divulging that
information. “Luka will not go. He has other matters to attend
here.”

Once again, indecision overtook me. “I
don’t feel comfortable going with a bunch of strangers.”

That savage smile flashed once more.
“But Emily, dear, do you not realize? It matters not with whom you
travel, for they will all know that you go to retrieve my grandson.
I implicitly trust every single one of my Blood.”

In the dead silence that
followed, I heard
Which means I do not
trust you, young lady
.

“And if I am killed?” I
asked.

He shrugged noncommittally. “An
unfortunate tragedy. The child will live with his father as
intended.”

So Micah would be safe, no matter what.
If I lived, then I could eventually steal him away from the Clan.
If I died, well, Luka may respect me enough not to test Micah’s DNA
and raise him as his own anyway. I hoped like hell that Maria had
not thought to verify Micah as her Blooded grandson. Of course,
perhaps Ranier never intended me to make it back from this trip.
Surrounded by his Blood, hundreds of miles from anyone loyal to me,
I could end up dead in the acrid Mexican sands. However, nothing in
this life comes without risk, especially revenge.

I stretched out my arm, the stitches
straining against the agonized skin and reminding me of the blaze
of tangled emotions I felt when Luka’s fingers played with the skin
above my ribs.

“You have a deal.”

Shasta

Ugh, all I can remember is running that
first time. Rachel decided that she would hold Emily to her
promise, so what did she do? She moved Emily into an apartment with
her. It didn’t matter that Emily was going to have a baby; Rachel
really got behind Emily’s plans. She figured the only way to keep
her safe from the Lycanthrope and the Lycanti was to keep her as
close to the Children of Dacre as she possibly could. Delilah and I
stayed in the house, maintaining it and getting on with our
lives.

Contrary to popular belief, we hold
jobs just fine, thank you. Delilah is a massage therapist and
Rachel is a freelance interior design expert. I, however, am not so
glamorous. I bartend three nights a week at a small hole in the
wall downtown. Someone has to pay the bills. I mean, come on. We
live in South California. It’s hard to look out of place or
abnormal here. That’s why when Emily blew up that first time, I
didn’t know if this was going to work. It was the middle of the day
on a Tuesday, the day that nothing cool ever really happens. I was
over for lunch. Emily let me eat fairly quickly, then we all sat
around just enjoying the silence. I played on my iPad while Rachel
and Emily focused on the cable.

Rachel changed the channel from some
singing competition show that Emily always watched.

“I was watching that,” Emily said
instantly.

“You have a TV in your room,” Rachel
pointed out.

“And I choose to watch TV in here
today,” Emily said through clenched teeth. “To be
sociable.”

Rachel just looked at her as if the
word didn’t exist in our vocabulary. It had been a bumpy three
weeks trying to establish that none of the Children of
Dacre—Delilah, Rachel, or me at least—would kill Emily, and in
turn, Emily would pay us the same courtesy. So far, all of us were
alive.

Rachel replied clearly, “My television.
My rules.”

Emily jumped up from the couch quicker
than I would have thought possible for a woman in her second
trimester. She stuck an accusing finger in Rachel’s face. “I have
been trying to be nice to you people for weeks, and you’re going to
be a bitch about this? Really?”

Rachel’s brown eyes showed no emotion.
“No one ever asked you to be nice. We’re partners in the same
crime.”

Emily stomped her feet and put her
hands on her hips in the ultimate picture of brattiness. Her
irritable glance included me, but I looked away. I really am just
an observer. Even when she tries to get me to talk about Luka, I
avoid the subject.

“What the hell is you people’s
problem?” Emily yelled. “Why are you such cold bitches?”

Rachel stood slowly, as if rising from
a bath. “We never asked you to be our friend. You are not a Child
of Dacre.”

Emily growled deep in her chest and I
winced. So far, she hadn’t gotten violent, even though she warned
us that she was prone to them. Something about the curse of the
Lycanti, she said.

Rachel took a step towards Emily. “You
have got to calm down, Emily.”

Finally, Emily snapped. “Calm down? You
and your fucking dead friends move me in here where you could kill
me anytime and you want me to calm down?” Emily shoved Rachel so
hard that Rachel fell back into her seat. I jumped up, unsure of
what I planned on doing exactly. Rachel was back on her feet before
Emily’s next outburst.