Viktor did not like the flirting. The wolf was treading on thin ice as it was, yet he thought he could try and steal Trixie’s affection. Unlike most of vampire kind, Viktor had no problem draining a shifter dry. Blood was blood and he could always use mouthwash to get rid of the taste.
Trixie leaned into him. It felt natural wrapping his arms around her, as if they had been like this forever.
“Don’t play dumb.” Chris snapped at him, his gaze darting to Viktor’s hold on Trixie. “We’ve been monitoring your movements since the coffee shop. Why did you go to that particular tattoo parlor?”
He smirked, very aware that though the other shifters in the room were eating, they also listened intently. “I am a tattoo artist myself. I like to check out the competition.”
Werewolves could smell lies. He was experienced enough to know how much truth was needed to mask them. The undercurrent of tension in Riverbend always tasted old and spoiled. It was his place to police the nest in the city, but not to mend old feuds.
He could hear Christopher grinding his teeth. “Bullshit,” the alpha spat out. “You don’t have competition at the shop. If the owner wasn’t a bookie and using his place as a front, it would have closed years ago.”
“Then why would I go there?” Viktor rested his chin on Trixie’s head. She was the perfect height. He could hold her like this all night, smelling her sweet shampoo. Strawberries? Yes, definitely strawberries.
Christopher’s eyes narrowed as he circled around counter.
Viktor slid Trixie behind him in an easy move. She was graceful in the transition and stayed close, resting her hands on his hips and peering round his arm.
“Betty.” The alpha stated the name like a curse.
Viktor blew out a frustrated breath and glared at his companions. “I know Betty’s story. I was the one who discovered the magic in the tattoo.” Sometimes he hated it when he was right. The alpha was looking for revenge. “I also know the dragon called you.” And inadvertently possibly started a war.
He pulled Trixie with him toward the loveseat, forcing the shifters occupying the space to move. He and Trixie sat. Him with his legs crossed and arms resting on the top of the couch. Trixie straight-backed, knees pressed together. The piece of furniture was small and forced them close together.
“I’m here to prevent things from escalating between your pack and the local vampire nest,” said Viktor. “One of ours wronged one of yours. I want to—”
“Wronged one of mine? Wronged me!” Christopher slapped his chest. “That dhampir monstrosity wrecked everything.”
The growl in his voice triggered the other shifters. They set their food aside, eyes focused on the floor, and none of them moved.
Interesting. He assessed the young alpha carefully. “How so?”
Trixie’s elbow embedded between his ribs. He had to stifle a laugh or the alpha might explode in bits of fur.
Christopher’s eyes glowed the pale icy blue of Nordic wolves. “She stole my mate. If it wasn’t for her, Betty would still be mine.”
“No, she wouldn’t.” Trixie shook her head, indignation in the line of her spine. “You need to get over—”
Viktor slid his hand over her mouth from behind. It was one thing for Viktor to taunt the alpha—the wolf could not hurt him—but Trixie was still almost human weak. “Let’s not rile the werewolf any more than we have to.”
She nodded. He could sense her lips pressed together as if fighting to keep her words. Then he let her go.
The alpha paced. “We won’t ever know the truth, will we?” He bared his teeth. “But I can taste my revenge. The parlor is where Betty was cursed with that fucking tattoo. Once my scouts spotted you entering there, I knew there was a connection.”
Trixie leaned forward. “You were the other shifter that interrogated the owner. I didn’t think Ken would have sent two separate parties to question him.”
Christopher rolled his shoulders. Viktor could see the joints shifting below his skin as he struggled for control. “Ken never asked permission to cross into my territory.”
“Yes, yes.” Viktor waved his hand, brushing aside the issue. “That is another problem for another day. The artist we seek is gone and the owner does not have any information as to where. We are both shit out of luck.”
Trixie sighed.
Christopher hesitated in his stalking pace.
Viktor leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “You know where Jade is.” The real question was why the dhampir was still alive when the alpha was so obviously pissed.
Christophe nodded. “When news of Betty shifting reached the city, word spread like wildfire. Betty’s father told me about the tattoo.” As part of the Riverbend pack, Betty’s father would have to report to his alpha whether he wanted to or not. “I looked for the witch that day but she’d already gone into hiding.”
“Not a witch,” he corrected. “A dhampir. She is half-human, half-vampire.”
“I know what a dhampir is.” Christopher grabbed a sandwich on the counter and destroyed it in three bites. He gestured to his pack mates to finish eating. They visibly relaxed and retrieved their food.
Trixie’s eyes were wide. “I think his jaw unhinged.”
“Probably.”
The alpha darted a glare their way. “Shut up. I stress eat.”
His fledgling bit her bottom lip, her cheeks flushed with poorly hidden amusement. Her adorable little fang peeked out and Viktor could not pull his attention away from it. “But you found her.”
“Her mother is a member of the local nest. I’m sure she’s hiding in there.”
“How does that work?” Asked Trixie. “I mean, how can a vampire get pregnant?”
“We’re still fertile post-change. It’s just extremely rare that we conceive. Obviously, those odds are better with a human. The dhampir must have been raised by her mother’s nest. That means that they will protect her.”
Christopher nodded. “We can’t get anywhere near the place.” He grinned. “But you can.”