Chapter 1
Vega inhaled the crisp winter air of the New Orleans graveyard. She’d been living in the historic city for over three years and had just graduated college early. This would be one of her last treks through one of the “Cities of the Dead” for a while, and she was going to miss it. Only New Orleans could turn graveyards into an aspect of tourism, and they’d done it well. Because the city was built on a swamp, people had to be buried above ground—in mausoleums and beautiful stone crypts. During the daytime, places like this were filled with people and teeming with life.
Now, at midnight, it was empty and loosely guarded. She’d seen a few human gang members loitering near the entrance and had used her gift of mental persuasion to send them away.
“Seriously, a graveyard at midnight? This is ridiculous, even for you,” she muttered, knowing the female she was meeting would be able to hear her.
The rumble of distant traffic reached her ears, but other than that, it was silent. Most people were indoors, getting out of the unusually cold December night and likely preparing for the winter break.
“Come on, show yourself. I had to sneak out, so let’s get this over with.” Because there was no way in hell Neema—her mentor over the last year—wasn’t already here. She’d set up the meeting, and, knowing Neema, she’d probably been here for hours.
Vega sensed more than heard or actually scented Neema. Allowing her claws to release as she withdrew one of her blades, Vega swiveled. And came face-to-face with a slim, dark-skinned lynx shifter in human form—who held a blade to Vega’s carotid artery.
“That’s sloppy, Vega.” Neema frowned, not withdrawing the blade.
“Is it?” She increased the pressure of the blade in her own hand—positioned close enough to slice deep into Neema’s femoral artery.
Neema’s bright smile lit up the dim graveyard. “That’s more like it.” She dropped her blade and stepped back, sheathing her weapon as Vega did the same with her own. “So, you ready?”
Vega nodded, knowing she was as ready as she’d ever be. She felt light years away from the teenage girl she’d been when she’d moved here. The whole “drawing a knife on her” type of greeting didn’t even faze her anymore. “Yeah. Why all the cloak-and-dagger bullshit for this meeting?”
Neema shrugged and pulled out a red apple from her satchel. “Wasn’t sure if you’d told your parents yet and didn’t want any of your pack to see you talking to me.” She took a big bite of her apple as she watched Vega.
“I’m not going to tell them. Not yet anyway.”
Neema simply nodded. “I figured. It’s why I didn’t call or text either. Wasn’t sure if they’d overhear us.”
Vega had been second-guessing her decision for some time now, but she knew that in the long run it was better for her to not tell her very powerful parents that she’d been recruited by the supernatural black ops division of the US government. Because that would not go over well.
At all.
Especially when she also told them she’d been covertly training with the division over the last year—and had been recruited even earlier. Oh yeah, they’d lose their minds. She’d rather tell them once she had a few missions under her belt. It was a mental thing, but she wanted to know for certain that she was ready for this job and would be good at it. If her parents saw her spectacularly fail? No, she’d rather wait just a little longer.
And she needed to do this. Wanted to do this with every fiber of her being. For most of her childhood it had just been her and her mom, Lyra. Then when she’d finally been introduced to her dad, she’d gained the entire Stavros pack as family and friends. Which was all she’d ever wanted. As a hybrid vampire-wolf shifter, her dual nature could never be denied. And her wolf side needed a pack, needed others to feel as if she belonged to something bigger than herself.
But she would always be viewed as Finn and Lyra Stavros’s child. Everyone would always want to look out for her because she was basically the princess of her pack. And she adored her pack for that. But she wanted more in her life—to strike out on her own and become her own person away from them. Some of her pack still saw her as that emotional teenager she’d once been. The one who’d yelled and cried at her dad when he’d been his overprotective self. So she understood her pack’s view of her because holy hell, she’d been full of hormones and emotions a few years ago. But she wasn’t that girl anymore.
Now she wanted to develop friendships away from the pack. To make a difference in the world in her own right. And she just wanted to be herself.
Vega Marius Stavros. Whoever the hell that was.
All she knew was, she wasn’t going to figure stuff out living back home with the pack, under the watchful eye of two powerful, overprotective parents with an entire compound full of people at their command.
“So when do we roll out?” she asked.
“I leave tomorrow, but August wasn’t sure if you’d be waiting until after Christmas?”
August McGuire, the male who’d recruited her, had given her the option of either starting on a mission as soon as she’d graduated, or after Christmas, but there was no guarantee when the next op would be starting. “No. I’m ready to go tomorrow.”
“You sure?” Neema’s amber eyes glinted under the moonlight.
“Yeah. I want in on this mission.” She didn’t want to be sidelined, miss a chance and then have to wait until the next one. Or be put on a different assignment from Neema. Because while Vega had been training, she was still nervous. Energy hummed through her, the urge to leave the city right the hell now, strong.
“Thank the goddess.” Neema reached out, squeezed Vega’s shoulder once. “You’re ready for this, girl. We’re going to hit some snags, probably get in some bloody fights and things will definitely, absolutely go wrong.” Her eyes gleamed with excitement.
“This your idea of a pep talk?”
Neema snorted and dropped her hand. “No. Shit always goes wrong on missions. But you have so fucking got this.”
She hadn’t realized how much she’d needed to hear that until this very moment. “Thanks. So how do we do this? I’m going to tell my parents in the morning that I’m not coming home for Christmas.” She was dreading seeing the pain in their expressions because she knew it would hurt them. And hurting them was her only regret in this.
“Meet me at the airport at noon, then. We’ve got a plane on standby.”
“You gonna tell me where we’re going?”
“Nope. You’ll get read in on the plane.”
Excitement surged through her that this was finally happening, but she kept her expression neutral. She could at least pretend to be cool about all this even if she wanted to go all Julie Andrews and break into song and dance. “See you then.”
Neema disappeared into the shadows of the mausoleums and Vega headed toward the gated entrance. The gates were about twelve feet high, but she scaled one in seconds, using her strength and speed to maneuver up and over them. Since she’d physically covered the only two nearby video cameras across the quiet, cobblestone street, she also removed the covers before heading home on foot.
Back when she’d started school her parents had insisted that she get a place off campus and she hadn’t fought them. She wasn’t human and she couldn’t pretend she was. But she’d wanted a degree in political science—which she’d gotten. With a double major in criminal justice. And she planned to continue her education, but that was for later. She was very long-lived and had plenty of time. Now, she wanted to work and prove herself—to herself, as crazy as the thought was.
As she turned onto another cobblestone street lined with historic homes in a very quiet residential neighborhood, she wasn’t surprised that she was still alone. It was too late for people to be out. Of course if she’d been in the Quarter it would be different. But this close to Tulane after most people had gone home for winter break?
Quiet.
She liked it too. This type of silence was so rare in her life, when she was constantly surrounded by people and her pack. She glanced up at the Spanish moss on the oak trees where colorful strands of beads draped the branches and leaves.
When one of the shadows along the tree branches moved in a way that defied the laws of physics, she tensed, ready to withdraw her blade. Then she scented him.
Gabriel.
The tension in her shoulders loosened, but just as quickly all the muscles in her body tightened for an entirely different reason.
Clenching her jaw, she picked up her pace as she reached the heavy gate surrounding her townhome. If he’d been following her and had overheard her conversation with Neema, she was screwed.
But she wasn’t going to assume anything just yet. Her parents hadn’t told her that he was in town, but that didn’t mean anything. They didn’t tell her everything and she knew her dad liked to have Gabriel watch after her on occasion—even if Gabriel would rather be anywhere but with her. He’d made that perfectly clear years ago. She ignored the small dagger twisting in her chest at that thought. She’d had a massive crush on him when she was eighteen, and when he’d been tasked with guarding her that first year in college they’d become friends.
Then, after a year, he’d decided he didn’t want to be her bodyguard anymore. After that, he’d decided not to be her friend either. Screw him. She’d locked up thoughts of him, of their short-lived friendship. Or what she’d thought had been a friendship. Apparently it had only been one-sided.
Instead of opening the five-foot-high wrought iron gate, she grasped the metal in between two of the spikes along the top and propelled herself over it. Her boots landed with a quiet thud on the stone walkway.
There were more lights on in her home than there had been when she’d left. Which meant her parents weren’t in the carriage house where she’d left them.
Awesome.
She rolled her shoulders once. She hadn’t been doing anything wrong. If she was truly going to grasp this new aspect of her life and gain the independence and freedom she desired, she had to be the person she wanted to be. And she wasn’t a pup who asked for permission to go out.
Instead of being quiet or sneaking around in her own house, she stepped into the front foyer and slipped her leather jacket off before hanging it on the rack by the door. After unzipping her knee-high boots and sliding them off, she called out, “Mom, Dad? You guys in here?”
“In the kitchen,” her mom said, not raising her voice much.
Thanks to her supernatural senses, Vega easily heard her. In the kitchen with its exposed antique brick walls and hanging copper pot rack, she found her mom drinking a warm glass of blood and her dad leaning against one of the granite countertops, sipping what smelled like coffee.
“Hey, guys. What’s up?” They’d told her they planned to watch a movie earlier, which was code for stuff she didn’t want to think about. She’d assumed she had a couple hours before she needed to be back.
“Everything okay?” her mom asked, her grayish-violet eyes brighter than normal.
“Yes.” She hated lying to her parents, and okay, technically she wasn’t. But she was still holding out on them. “How was the movie?”
“Where were you?” her dad abruptly asked, not even bothering to make small talk like it was clear her mom planned to.
She turned to face her dad. To the pack, he was a powerful leader. He could be harsh, but he was always fair. More fair than most, she thought. He had a soft side that not many saw. Right now he wasn’t looking at her as an Alpha looked at a packmate, he was looking at her like a concerned parent. “Out meeting a friend.” And she wouldn’t apologize for it.
“You didn’t answer your phone. I got worried,” her mom said quietly.
Oh, hell. She turned back to her mom. “I’m sorry. I left it here. I never meant to make you worry.” Which was the truth. She’d left it out of habit. When she wanted to meet with Neema, or August or anyone else on her new team, they did it without electronics so no one could track them. But her mom tended to worry about her more than what Vega thought was normal for parents. She couldn’t blame her though. Not when Vega had been kidnapped as a teenager and shot multiple times because of the blood that ran through her veins. Not to mention her crazy dead uncle had wanted to use her blood to open a Hell Gate. So yeah, her mom could worry.
“We figured that was it.” Her dad’s tone was gruff, but she heard the worry lacing his words as well.
Which just made her feel like crap. She straightened. “Is something going on I should know about? A new threat to you guys? Me? The pack?” Tension coiled in her belly until her dad shook his head.
“No. We’re just being overprotective parents.” His voice was wry.
Just like that, the residual strain dissipated. If this was normal worried-parent stuff, she could deal with a little overprotectiveness.
“And as overprotective parents, I want to know if this was a male you were meeting?” The hint of Alpha command tinged his words.
But she just snorted and headed for the fridge, suddenly starving. “Female, for the record. Not that it matters, as I’m a grown female. I thought I scented Gabriel outside. I didn’t realize he’d come with you guys.” Her parents had just arrived that morning to spend a couple days with her before they headed back to Biloxi. And her dad wanted to meet with one of the pack’s attorneys or something. She was proud of herself for keeping her tone neutral when she asked about Gabriel.
“Who’s this female you were meeting with?” her dad asked, completely changing the subject.
She looked up from the fridge to find both her parents side by side now, watching her with the strangest expression. Shit, did they know?
“A friend you’ve never met.” A truth so they wouldn’t scent a lie off her. “Seriously guys, what’s going on? You’re grilling me like I’m some pup.” She shut the door, all thoughts of food gone.
Her mom opened her mouth then just as quickly snapped it shut and let out a nervous half-laugh. “Nothing’s going on and we didn’t mean to grill you. We’re just excited you’ll be moving back to the compound.”
Okay, something was definitely going on with them, but it couldn’t be related to Vega’s new job. If it was, they’d have said something. Or she assumed they would have. Well, now was as good a time as any to let them know she wouldn’t be coming home with them in the next couple days. “About that… I won’t be coming home for Christmas. I should have said something earlier, but I wasn’t sure of our exact plans. My friend asked me to head out tomorrow with her for the next few weeks.” Though it could be even longer. It was sometimes a tough balancing act to find the right words so the scent of a lie wouldn’t roll off her. And she hated that she couldn’t be completely honest with her parents. But if she wanted to pursue her chosen vocation, she had no choice. “I’m not ready to jump back into pack life yet.” Also the truth.
The sight of her mom’s crestfallen face was a punch to the gut. “Oh…well, of course. Where will you be going?”
Instead of answering, she crossed the large kitchen, her feet silent on the tile. “I’ll give you guys details later, but are you really sure this is okay?” There was something in her mom’s expression that made her the slightest bit nervous. Her mom was one of the strongest, bravest, women she’d ever known. And this look…it was unsettling.
“Of course,” her dad said. “You’re young. Spend the holiday with your friends. You deserve a break after how hard you worked to graduate early.” Her dad pulled her and her mom into a tight hug. “You have all the time in the world to get settled back in with the pack. There’s no rush. The pack has moved most of your stuff back to the mansion anyway.”
She wrapped her arms around both her parents, gripping them tight even as she shoved down that sick feeling in her gut. Sure, she wasn’t technically lying, but she didn’t like keeping things from the two people she loved more than anything.
Even if it was better for everyone right now. And she did think it was a little odd that neither of her parents were pushing her harder for details—but she wasn’t going to complain. They both had a lot on their minds with pack business. Another reason she didn’t want to burden them with the knowledge of her new job. They’d just worry even more than they already did.
At least that was what she tried to tell herself to assuage the guilt burning through her veins.