Avoiding Alpha

“What?” He asked as he pulled off the highway.



“Nothing.”



“It’s not nothing. What are you thinking? I want to know.”



“You don’t have to know everything I think.”



“No. But I can tell you’re happy, and if I did something that made you feel that way, I’d like to know so I can make you feel that way again.”



I leaned against the window so that I could get a better view of him. “You didn’t have to do anything. You were you, and that’s more than enough.”



“Cherie.” His voice was low and gravelly as he glanced at me. That voice did things to me.



It wasn’t long before we reached UT’s campus. Axel’s dorm wasn’t far off the main drag. It was a massive two-building dorm. To me it looked a little dreary. All that brick with these teeny-tiny windows and closet-sized rooms with beds that pulled out from the walls, but Axel said he didn’t mind. He liked being with all the people.



I texted him that we were parked on the street in front of his dorm, and he walked up a second later. No one would ever doubt that we were siblings. He wasn’t as short as me, but we had similar features—wavy dark brown hair, dark brown eyes, light skin. His nose was a little bigger than mine, but the same shape. And our eyes were exactly the same.



“Hey, sis. Dastien,” he said as he jumped in.



“How you feeling?”



“Like shit, but it’s my own damned fault. Would be nice to have some of those werewolf healing abilities.”



Dastien laughed as he pulled away from the curb. “Then you wouldn’t have been able to get drunk in the first place.”



“No shit?”



“Nope. Metabolism burns off the alcohol quicker than you can drink.”



“Seriously?” Axel hummed as he thought. “What if you drank straight Everclear?”



Dastien shook his head. “Still wouldn’t get you drunk.”



These guys were ridiculous. “Not to interrupt, but where are we going?”



“Right. We’re going north on I-35. You’re going to meet our Great-Aunt Rosa.”



I twisted in my seat. “We have a Great-Aunt Rosa?”



Axel’s eyes were wide. “I know, right? Who knew?”



I faced front again. “Would’ve been nice if Mom hadn’t kept me so in the dark.” Being ignorant was seriously frustrating. “What’s Rosa’s deal? Why doesn’t she live with La Aquelarre?”



“They had a falling out after abuela died. Luciana was the problem. That’s why Claudia and Raphael’s parents aren’t around much. They technically live there, but spend most of the time traveling to avoid Luciana.”



“Why didn’t they move away?”



“Because the twins didn’t want to. They were still learning and needed to be around the rest of the coven to do that. Now that they know more, they want to stick around to support whoever inherits the position from Lucicana.”



I scoffed at that. “Sounds like shit parenting to me. Who abandons their kids to an evil witch? No wonder mom isn’t close with her sister anymore.”



Axel directed us into a neighborhood of cute, brightly colored houses. We stopped in front of one with a beautiful garden in front. Wildflowers lined the walkway to the front door, giving it a laid back feel instead of a manicured look like its neighbors.



As we stepped up to the front stoop, the door swung open. A short, round, white-haired woman stood in the doorway. Her skin was paper-thin and wrinkled, and her shoulders hunched over, making me feel tall—quite an accomplishment for someone who was barely over five feet. She was in a flower printed dress, and a pair of reading glasses with bright red frames hung from her neck on a beaded chain.



“I wondered when you might come,” she said. Her voice was a little nasal and reedy, but pleasant.



“Me?” I pointed to myself.



“Yes. You.” She moved aside. “Come.” She motioned to the floor. “But watch the salt.”



A line of salt covered the threshold. The line continued across the porch and around the corners on both sides, sealing the house in a circle. For protection?



From who? Luciana?



Stepping over the salt, I walked into the house. The floorboards creaked under my weight. The place smelled old and musty, but there was a warmth to the space. The incense that burned somewhere in the house blotted out most of the musk, leaving it smelling like a church.



I sneezed. And sneezed. And again. I pulled my shirt over my face, but I couldn’t stop.