Death's Servant

I sit in my jeep for thirty minutes, contemplating what the hell just happened. I know I didn't misread her attraction; our scorching hot kisses prove there's chemistry on both sides. Could she have some crazy ex-boyfriend stalking her and she lied to spare me the drama of having to face the nutjob?



A snort huffs through my nose. Highly unlikely a werewolf would worry about that kind of crap.



Or could she currently be involved with someone and she lied about being available? That idea rings more true than the first. But why sound so doom and gloom and cryptic, telling me it was better if I left for my own good? I shake my head, reining in the angry impulse to punch the steering wheel.



She said I didn't have to worry about poaching on existing pack territory, but how is it possible she's living as a lone wolf in an area I know is inhabited with other werewolves. I was attacked on campus by a werewolf only a few hours from here. Romeo and Elsa had been traveling on business when they heard of my bizarre animal attack.



The couple's outrageous explanation of my wounds sunk in after I witnessed my own body healing at an unreal speed. They assured me the attacking wolf had been dealt with by the local pack. Could Loudoun County, just a little ways north in the same state, have lone wolves and no ruling pack? Doesn't seem likely. And yet I was all too ready to swallow that line when Raine fed it to me. I grip the wheel in frustration, wishing I could rip it out and toss it through the darkening parking lot.



I want to call Romeo and ask advice, but can't risk it. There's no way he's ready to talk to me after the scene I made when leaving. I should be grateful he hasn't sent pack members out to haul my ass back to the fold. Maybe it's the whole alpha thing. He could be relieved I left because now we wouldn't have any physical confrontation.



Dammit! I punch the dash, my rage getting the best of me. If I hadn't stood frozen in shock I could have followed Raine and questioned her further. I'll have to wait until she's working again to corner her.



I'm not a quitter. I'll be damned if I walk away from her without a real reason.



That look on her face when I asked what was going on haunts me. Her slight recoil and the subsequent fear mean something. Resigned to the fact I won't get any answers tonight, I head home, determined to discover the truth.



Raine hasn't been at work for two days. Since I know which car is hers, I cruise by several times a day looking for it. At first I worried maybe she had someone drop her off, or borrowed someone else's car, just to avoid me. A casual stroll past the large windows checking out the wait staff working each shift confirmed she wasn't there. I even searched for her scent on the back stairs. Nothing.



When I finally see her battered Honda late on Sunday relief sweeps through me. Should I approach her inside at work, wait out here for the end of her shift, or just follow her home? My attempt to talk to her in the parking lot a few days ago didn't go well and I'm acutely aware the second option of following her home skirts perilously close to stalker behavior. Well, my actions of driving by several times a day were stalkerish, too, and that didn't stop me.



Before I decide on a suitable plan, the back door swings open and Raine walks down the steps. Her shoulders hunch forward and her thin arms wrap around her middle like she's cold despite the high temperatures hitting on the first day of June. She's not dressed for work and heads directly to her car, not sparing a glance around the lot in her haste.



Looks like my only option is the scary stalker following her home.



My jeep idles on the side of the road with the windows up. With any luck she won't smell I'm here and I'll be able to follow her. I slide down in the seat when she turns onto the road, waiting a few seconds before straightening and following. I ease off the shoulder and tail her car at a discrete distance. She continues on 15 South toward Purcellville. After a dozen or so miles, Raine takes the exit for town. I follow a hundred yards behind, glad it's not full dark yet when headlights could give away my position.



She takes a lot of turns, leading me deeper into undeveloped farm land and away from the construction sites mushrooming all over Loudoun County. She turns onto a long gravel drive. Thick trees and deep underbrush hide any glimpse of a house, and her bumper disappears beyond a bend as I pass the mouth of the driveway. Unwilling to risk discovery, I pull over a quarter of a mile past the entrance and shut off the jeep.



No other homes are close by. I roll down the window to sample the air. Scents of fertile dirt, new plant growth, and fresh horse manure stream in. Man, we are out here-about three turns back we crossed into what I call the boonies. This is what I've heard the locals affectionately refer to as "horse country." Living most of my life in southern Virginia, I'm no stranger to desolate farmland, but to find it close to an area with one of the biggest construction booms in the state feels surreal.



The wind shifts and the pungent odor of wolves drifts over the lowered glass. My gut tightens in response. Lone wolf, my ass. There's a pack in this area and I've just stumbled onto their den. Why in the hell did she lie to me?



I quietly exit the jeep, keenly aware that walking uninvited onto their property could be the stupidest thing I've done in my life to date.



Is this the place she invited me to last week? Her being part of a pack changes the meaning of why she acted the way she did.



She's hiding something.



And as I slip into the dense greenery next to the driveway, my heart hardens with resolve-I aim to discover it.



Recent rain has left the ground spongy, making my every step absorbed by plump soil and new plants. The sun set while I trailed Raine to this isolated location, and the long twilight of late spring creates deep shadows between the thin trunks and undergrowth.



In a third of a mile or so, glimpses of red brick and a metal roof wink through the dense vegetation. Within a few minutes a huge structure and several smaller outbuildings come into view. Three stories high with a gabled roof and arched windows, the main house resembles a McMansion on steroids.



The new homes where I've been working don't even compare, and I thought those houses were huge. Either her pack is doing much better than Romeo's in Manitoba or this isn't their home.



The breeze shifts and the strong stink of werewolf lifts to reveal a fainter scent underneath. Blood cools in my veins as I realize I've encountered the odor before. It's the unmistakable stench of vampire.



Is this a vampire house and the wolves live here as well?



I tamp down my confusion and skirt the edge of the woods, slowly making my way onto the neatly trimmed grass, angling toward a far corner of the house.



A large detached garage comes into view with an array of expensive cars parked on the gravel. I see hood and grill ornaments for Mercedes, Lexus, and Porsche. Either they've got company or Raine's pack drives luxury cars. Her tiny battered Honda sits off near an even larger, one-story outbuilding farthest away.



I ease behind the garage, casually drifting from one darkened location to the next. Despite the obvious signs of habitation, no one walks the grounds nor do I see any movement through the windows. Huh. Wonder where everyone is?



I approach Raine's car, her familiar scent filling my nostrils. A quick glance reveals the car lies empty without even a candy wrapper to clutter its neatness. The area near her car door holds the strongest trace of her, its trail leading toward the large house, not one of the other outlying cottages or sheds.



I tense, unsure if the course I've taken in coming here is the wisest choice. I'm all alone and have no idea what I'll be facing. I shrug off my discomfort and follow Raine's last steps. I've come this far, might as well see it through to the end.



Like I suspected, she went to the backdoor of the main house. Sounds of local wildlife from the dense woods surrounding the house are strangely absent, as if they sensed my predator presence and refrained from further display. Before I decide to try the knob or knock, a groan meets my ears. The sound issues from the right, around the corner of the imposing brick façade.



I press my back to the sun-warmed surface and slink quietly along the outside wall, easing toward the noise. A large bay window protrudes, its panes free of fabric, allowing inhabitants a clear view of the peaceful woods beyond. The design style also offers me an unhindered view inside.



Two men in tuxedos stand with their backs to me, their attention focused on the dining room table before them. One brown-haired man stands taller than the other one with black hair. The shorter man leans forward, eagerness apparent in his body language. I follow his gaze and barely stifle my surprise in time.



Raine sits on the polished mahogany surface, knees spread to bracket her thighs outside the hips of a third tuxedo-clad man standing in front of her, leaning over her neck. Her head is tipped back, leaving her delicate throat exposed to the man's attentions.



His dark blond head angles across her throat. He appears to be kissing the skin there.



She groans again and the sound cuts through my heart like a knife. All this time I thought she wanted me, desired me as a possible mate. What an idiot I've been.



The man roughly pulls down the neck of her t-shirt to expose her breast. He grabs her flesh, squeezing hard. Raine gasps and thrashes her head to the side, allowing me to see her eyes are scrunched tightly closed, a look of discomfort showing in her features.



I jerk in surprise when one of the men, the taller one with brown hair, near the partly opened window speaks. "Go easy on her, Nathaniel." His voice holds strength and the man kissing Raine's neck loosens his hold on her small breast. "She donated last Wednesday and I'll not have you draining her more than necessary. She's a favorite of Dominic's and he's scheduled her for Friday."



A faint whiff of blood billows from under the wooden pane and fear grips my gut. As if confirming my horrified thoughts, a thin trail of red seeps down the young woman's skin, collecting in the hollow of her throat.



Dear God. They're vampires feeding off Raine.



By the casual sound of the tall man's comments, it must be a normal occurrence. Panic clogs my throat as I stand frozen in place, unable to turn away from the horrible display and afraid to move and be discovered.



Nathaniel ignores the vampire by the window, instead pressing a palm roughly between Raines legs, groping her through her jeans. She bucks at the added stimulation, a look of disgust crossing her face at her body's betrayal.



The second man standing near the window chuckles. "You're losing your touch, old man. She doesn't look like she's enjoying it."



Nathaniel raises his bloody mouth, feral eyes focusing on the man who spoke. Without a glance back at Raine, he slips his hand into her pants for a more intimate caress. "Want to wager who can get her off faster?"



Raine's eyes fly open and she looks toward the window, her eyes seeking out the tall brown-haired man who warned off Nathanial. She shakes her head side to side, fighting what the man's ministrations are making her feel.



A low growl starts deep in my throat. The alpha instinct to protect rages to the surface at her look of utter dejection and humiliation.



In a lightning fast move, the two men by the window spin around. The tall one leaps through the glass, tackling me.



Strong hands pin me to the ground as a rabid face full of dripping fangs leans toward me.



"And who do we have here?" The vampire sniffs the air near my neck. "You're the werewolf Raine was with earlier. The one she said left town no matter how she tempted him to stay."



I push up with my hips, trying to buck off the creature. We thrash until he grasps both my hands in his, pinning them above my head as if I were a weak child. The look on his maddened face sends additional adrenaline streaming through my body, pushing my inner wolf into a fight response.



The change boils under my skin, the wolf struggling to break my hold and meet this new threat. A growl of fury erupts from my throat as I brace to rip off his face with my teeth. The change begins and my jaw elongates into a muzzle full of sharp teeth. I lash out, snapping at the grinning vampire.



He avoids my attack and punches me in the face, harder than I've ever felt from an enraged Were. It momentarily halts my change, stunning me with the pain. He laughs and hits me again, effectively ending my retaliation.



"Come and join me, Thomas," my captor calls over his shoulder. "This one's fresh-and on the house."



The second vampire jumps through the window to crouch next to my side. Raine's scream of "no!" is the last thing to penetrate my consciousness as two sets of fangs descend upon me.