🖤Very overdue, this should give more much needed info and something to mull over while I hopefully get this book finished before the end of this year. Enjoy!🎃
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Demon-an evil spirit, that can possess a person or act as a tormentor in Hell
"Like hell are we going near that psycho," Trina sneers, slamming the heavily chipped door right in my face. "And the last time we helped you we nearly got turned into matching luggage!"
I roll my eyes, the skin in my neck already prickling with embarrassment. Of all the things I hated, having to direct Ryder into this backwoods swamp and convince the Hackett cousins to help us was in the top ten. Adding to the warm welcome, I had to deal with convincing my younger siblings to stay at the pack house, which ended with me promising the twins a new set of dolls and Nick another chemistry set. Oh joy.
Then Ryder of course called driver seat in Carol's minivan, with me scrunched in the middle between Laurel and Derrick while also helping Carol find the correct landmarks with her holding onto the old map I had stowed away for emergencies. Now, I'm stuck in a down pour while everyone else gets to stay in the heated, dry vehicle.
"Dammit Trina!" I holler, halfheartedly kicking the door, eliciting a large deluge of rain water to come down on my head. "Ugh! Goddess, I'm sorry about that demon last summer. If it makes you feel better, Madame Rossetti had a good long talk with its hellish commander. Now please, just get your cousins ready and meet us at the Gray Mill in Devil's Heart. I promise to buy y'all a round of tequila shots if we live through the meeting."
The door yanks back open, revealing Trina's curly blond locks and Conrad's blue buzz cut. I can't help but sigh at their smiling faces, joined then of course by Mariah and Martin. The brother and sister duo that tend to creep normal people out with their albino coloring and full on black eyes. No whites of the eyes or anything, just bottomless pits of oily blackness.
"Make it three rounds and you got a deal," Conrad utters, turning around before suddenly freezing in the doorway and the turning back around with a look of pure evil on his face. "You said the Gray Mill right?"
"Yes," I answer hesitantly, knowing from past experience what Conrad will say next.
"Well that place isn't some casual dive bar," Conrad begins, sliding on out onto the porch before giving me the old once over. "And honey you wouldn't be able to get past the front door in that get up."
As usual, Conrad always made it a point to make fun of my wardrobe. All my precious band tees, superhero t-shirts, and the endless collection of ripped, frayed, and paint splattered pants.
"If you think that's bad you should see the folks in the car," I huff, rolling my eyes in the direction of Carol's minivan and Ryder glaring emerald daggers at Conrad's proximity to me. "None of us planned on going out to any VIP rated dance halls tonight. My brother still has sweats on, his mate threw on workout clothes, and you don't even want to know what type of house shoes Solarin has on."
"My oh my," Conrad chuckles weakly, his face paling ever so slightly from my lovely dose of information. "You lot certainly have our work cut out for us."
"So, your going to help us?" I ask, wincing slightly as Conrad's eyes start to glitter with thoughts of dressing me in whatever get up comes to mind.
"More than that Rena," Conrad drawls, cracking his knuckles before rolling up his sleeves. "I'm going to make sure that Rouge King is too stunned to even remember how to breath."
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"If any of you so much as laugh when I take off this coat," I hiss, shuffling on out of the Hackett's front door in three inch stilettos while attempting to not slip on the wet porch. "I will personally rip out your tongue and feed it to the twins."
"Why doll," Ryder utters, crossing his arms in his new suit jacket and crisp white shirt. "Is there something about your outfit that you don't want me to see?"
"One more word out of you buddy," I sneer, carefully walking down the steps and onto blessed hard ground. "And you are sleeping on the couch."
"A bit of a soft threat, don't you think Serena?" Carol asks, her eyes dancing with amusement as I join the rest of our group by the car. "I usually withhold sex from my mate until he learns to mind his manners."
"Ugh," I groan, along with the Hackett cousins, Ryder, Derrick, and Laurel. "Seriously?"
"Well look at that," Carol chuckles, cracking her knuckles with an extra stretch of her muscled ligaments. "It makes you troublemakers quiet to."
"Let's just get going, and I mean now," I grumble, stomping the rest of the way to the minivan, yanking the door open, and setting my butt into the middle seat. "Come on hurry up, let's get this shit show on the road."
Thankfully, it didn't take long for everyone to pile back into the minivan and the Hackett's camo jeep. Then it was back to navigating for me, directing us all back to the main highway before Carol took over, directing Ryder in a no nonsense tone to the town of Devil's Heart. It is not a place that would ever be defined as family friendly. The entire town is nothing but bars, nightclubs, and the very obvious red-light district on the north side of town. The buildings are either black stone, slate gray wood, or midnight brick and mortar residences. Nothing but full squat homes on the cups of caving in, and the lovely spattering of motorcycle gangs, groups of men smoking Goddess knows what, and the over flowing parking lot of the Gray Mill.
"Alright kids," Carol utters, swiveling around in her seat once Ryder successfully finds a parking spot without being rear ended. "We do this my way, not the highway." Then in a meticulous fashions she lists of the rules to us that I have to make a long ass list of in the back of my brain.
One-Don't speak unless I tell you to
Two- No alcohol
Three- No going off alone
Four- Stay with the group at all times
Five- I'm head bitch
Six- Keep your claws, fangs, and any other pointy or metal object hidden at all costs
Seven-No shifting unless we're all fucked
Eight- You start something, and you'll wish you weren't born
Nine- Don't break any laws, supernatural or human
Ten- If any of you get arrested I'm not bailing you out(And don't waste your one phone call to say it wasn't your fault)
"Am I understood?" she adds, narrowed eyes surveying us with lethal predacious precision.
"Yes Carol," we reply in forced agreement, with me grinding my teeth in frustration from all the rules curbing my fun. Quiet as can be, we all file out of the mini van as the Hackett's pile out of their jeep. Laurel of course seems content in whatever cotton candy monster threw up on her and her dress, Derrick escaped the major part like Ryder. Just a sleek blazer and designer jeans has been thrown his way. Carol and Solarin match to my greatest annoyance, an emerald silk tube top and flowing pants for her and designer green duds for him. I glare at all of them, still gripping my jacket tight enough to choke myself.
The Hacketts put the rest of us to shame as always. Conrad decked in an all white suit, Trina daring the sensibilities of us all with the nearly see through blue dress hugging her athletic body. Mariah and Martin decided to go full on goth, black lipstick, eye shadow, ripped clothes, and tons of silver chains. I do hope they steer clear of any werewolves, or else we'll have problems before we even get to the doors.
Carol takes point as usual, strutting up to the bouncer in badass stick heels sharp enough to poke an eye out. We follow like a flood, instinctively going into a two by two formation all the way up to the long line of people waiting to be aloud inside the otherwise sketchy joint.
"Name," the burly human drawls, obviously bored and in no mood for any ridiculous acts of entitlement. Shaven white head devoid of any bit of hair, that it bounces the light of the streetlights of off it.
"Carol Andrews," she utters, admiring her nails as if she had better things to do than answer annoying questions. "A friend of mine asked me to meet him here. He goes by Titus del Rev, and I'm sure you've heard of him."
The bouncer blinks, once and then twice in disbelief. Fear invades whatever calm desensitized composure he had before we arrived. Without further preamble, he waves us on past the cliche red velvet rope, straight on inside to the infamous Gray Mill. Everyone inside the packed space is either dancing, drinking, or sucking on someone's face before fading away behind gray curtained alcoves. Everything in here is gray, down to the marble flooring, wood panels walls and ceiling. Even the drinks and glasses are stone gray, much like the workers uniforms, and the single solemn man who offers to take my jacket for me.
At first I try to resist, but Trina beats me to it with her magic. Popping the buttons one by one and handing my barrier of protection off to the obviously overworked human. Ryder lets out a strained, extremely territorial lusty growl, of which only makes matters worse. Dragging most of the room's attention towards me, and the goddess damn dress that I'm so going to burn once this is all over.
A wayward mirror catches my eye, bouncing back my extremely curvy body in the glass. The sequined silver dress is held up by two straps of fake gems, the hem reaching down to just above my trembling knees. My chest is left barely covered, my breasts bopping like twin snowy peaks. Then there lies my hair streaming all the way down past my waist, left curly and seductive like a mermaid's locks. Oh joy. I am so getting Trina back for this. I wonder if waterboarding is still illegal in Virginia?
"Well, well, well," a strange blond man sneers, the crowd parting for the black suited jackass and two goons suited up like hitman with dark tinted glasses. "The guests of the hour, please, follow me."
Carol tosses her hair, cocking a hip to the side before sauntering on after the jerk, an undoubtedly wolfy jerk. We file on behind her, Ryder glueing himself to my side. Attempting to hide me fro the jealously wafting off most of the women, and the glassy longing gazes of most of the men and a few female wolves as well. Our group is led into the bluntly barred off VIP section. A black velvet rope preceding a set of gray double doors that swing on into a room of lounge chair, price luxury bar, and dozens of werewolves dotting the whole room.
Most are in the same goon like finery, shades and all. Except for one, with a face that has bile wanting to climb up my throat. The same familiar lanky blond hair, the venomous green eyes, and those scars crawling on the tan flesh of both his cheeks like frozen worms.
"Sweet goddess above," Derrick mutters, jerking Lila's, Ryder's, and my head towards him. "This guy is actually real, I thought mom was lying and I just got one of his goons?"
"For once in your life Derrick," I hiss, trying to make my voice quiet enough that we are not heard as Carol and Solarin are waved on up to the lounging wolf that wants my family locked up forever. "Shut the fuck up or I will stick my heel straight up your ass!"
"Your Majesty," the blond man utters, bowing before the older wolf cradling a wine glass in his ringed fingers. "Alpha Carol Andrews and her consort Solarin Andrews."
Titus assesses them both with a bored gaze, fine leather shoes tapping on the marble. His fleshy lips formed into a grim expression, dark eyes rising above Carol's shoulder and suddenly fixating on me. I force myself to swallow, pretending to admire the large paintings of wolf packs tearing each other apart on the side walls.
"Welcome, Alpha Andrews," Titus drawls, setting his glass on a nearby side table. "You are just as my warriors have said. Beautiful, intelligent, the perfect leader for such a lowly pack."
I stiffen, the rest of us wolves in the group doing so as well. The Hackett's could care less, I know they have no care for werewolf politics. But us wolves, we don't take kindly to insults. Especially those blatantly thrown at the feet of family friends.
"What flattery," Carol chuckles, fluidly turning Solarin into an armrest, a feat only possible with their equal height. "I could say the same for you. A worthy wolf on the battlefield, a male of fine tastes, a psychopath that thinks that whole world should make him king."
Titus freezes, green eyes flicking to white and back again. Fingers curling straight into the chair's upholstery, lips curling back just enough to see his enlarged canines. I glance up at Ryder, silently nodding toward his aunt and uncle. With everyone's attention on the crazed wolf, we both split to each side of Carol and Solarin. I reach Carol's left, with Ryder on Solarin's right, just in time for Titus to lunge a hand toward my friend's throat.
I slide in front of Carol in the nick of time, sucking in just enough air before my throat is pulled into a viselike grip. My fingers hurriedly wrap around his wrist, clinging tightly as I'm lifted up off the ground. Too late does Titus realize who he has by the throat, fear for a brief second shining within his eyes. I give him a coy smile, forcing myself to not balk once his fear turns to sadistic pleasure.
"Someone has guts tonight don't they?" Titus laughs, his joining in with shared malicious amusement. "A pity it's from stray vermin such as you."
"Me...v-vermin," I croon, wheezing just enough for him to loosen his fingers just a bit. "If I recall...I'm more of beast in the bedroom and a bitch to hunt down."
I flicker my eyes, changing the fire blue hue to a pure shiny silver. The affect works, causing this pretender king to drop me. Instinct takes hold, ushering my body into a crouch. A feat that should never be done in heels, or practiced by anyone that does not have to prepare for every social call to turn into a backyard brawl.
"So, this is the famed Alpha Winters," Titus sneers, ignoring Ryder's low warning growl as he circles me while I straighten up to my full height. "I dare say my dear, you are an enchanting female indeed."
"Thanks," I deadpan, crossing my arms with an exaggerated cocking of my hip. "I do try to take a shower once a week. Two if I decide to you know, knock a few jackasses around for kicks."
The Hacketts of course snicker at that. Trust me, no one knows my showering habits better than them. I swear my water bill is higher than my electric, which means I should probably start charging for every time blood and monster goop gets on me and my clothes. Titus chuckles, a sound cold enough to ice the floor. I watch him with unwavering distaste, eyeing his trek around me. Standing my ground, not allowing my attention to solely remain on him, but also taking in his men and their laid back attitudes. Expecting for whatever they intend from this meeting to go their way. The easy way where we all bow down before this dickwad's magnificence. Over my dead body of course.
"And known for your mouth as well," Titus interjects, ruining my thoughts yet again with his gut twisted banter. "A very foul one I've been told."
I cock my head like a hawk, jerking my hand up to halt Ryder as Titus ends his appraisal by stopping before me. A sweet smile paints my lips, the fingers of my raised hand spreading to pull Ryder's shoulder into a firm hold. I urge him a step forward, ever so slowly for all to see me plant a wave kiss to my mate's cheek.
"I beg to differ," I utter, voice so honey sweet that you could get sick from it. "So, let's cut the chit-chat and get to the good stuff. Why call a meeting between Alpha Carol and yourself when everyone knows your just dying to take me and my family hostage?"
The instant I say that, a door on the left side of the room opens. Letting in camo clad men, coated in black and green face paint from head to toe, except for one. He reeks more of rouge wolf than Titus and his shade wearing man. Leaves and mud coat his ragged hair, night vision goggles covering his eyes, and what looks to be black oil coating his tactical gear. Something immediately tells me that he was not expected, either by Titus whipping his head in cartoonish fury, or the fact that the newcomer smiles directly at me.
"Oh, what do we have here?" the male sneers, pulling up his goggles and flashing a disgusting grin along with a very, extremely, horridly, familiar scar running down his face. All the way down from forehead to chin. "Cowards come to beg for their miserable lives?"
"The only cowards in here are you and your wolves," Ryder growls, hackles rising just as much as mine. "Your lucky those human cops came when they did, or I would have your head pulled from your vile filthy body."
"Now, now boys," Titus interrupts, a lethal diplomatic calm exuding from him as he steps between us and the wolves who broke into the Witching Hour. "No need to fight, after all this is a meeting."
Laughing so easily, Titus gestures over a wolf server and plucks up two glasses of expensive smelling wine. One he keeps for himself, the other he gives to Carol that she wisely excepts but does not drink while he gulps his down in one go.
"A meeting over the terms of her surrender."
The glass in Carol's palm drops and shatters on the floor, making the rogues chuckle with sinister glee as Titus takes his seat. The camo clad wolves pouring into the room, five settling themselves on each side of the self proclaimed king.
"And exactly what are your terms?" Carol asks, eyes fighting for dominance between green and glittering gold. "Majesty."
Titus thinks for a moment, scratching his chin with a contemplative leisure that make me want to punch him straight in the nose. Carol of course senses this, commanding all attention in the room to her as she stalks around me and ushers Ryder and I back next to Solarin. I feel Derrick and Laurel move closer, slightly adjusting themselves with soft steps and a slight cracking of bone. The faint scent of sugar and rot, begins to permeate the air from behind me. The Hackett's sensing the subtle shift in the room, and the unwelcome feeling of menace that would turn anyone's blood to ice.
"First, your complete obedience and transfer of your Alpha title to me," Titus begins, and like with all villains in utterly in love with hearing his one sinister voice. "Turning all hybrids over to my generals, handing all your forces over to me, and most importantly. Perhaps the first thing you can do, is give the Winters brats to me. Especially the oldest of the litter, my son would enjoy breaking such a feisty spirit such as hers. While I would enjoy having a lovely heart to heart with her twin."
I hear Derrick gulp behind us as I catch Ryder's eye, silently ordering him not to do anything stupid. Even with Titus licking his chops at the thought of handing me over to his maniacal offspring. We might have the help of the Hackett's, but even then we are too small to face off over twenty full grown male wolves. The odds of all of us making it out alive if we decided to go full massacre mode, are entirely too slim.
"Unfortunately, I can't agree to them," Carol replies, keeping her voice diplomatic if slightly strained. "So with all due respect, I shall see you on the battlefield Titus del Rev."
She then turns on her heel and heads back to the club room. Not bothering to look back at the Rogue King's furious glare as she slither by all of us like a snake through water. Without hesitation, our group follows her. Solarin falling in beside his mate with the Hackett's just behind. My brother, our mates, and I bring up the back. Warily eying the rouges as they let us pass and reach the doors that Carol pulls open without skipping a beat.
Ryder tucks me into his side, his arm laying itself possessively on my shoulders once we reach the doors' threshold. Uncertainty wiggles through my chest like worm, making look back towards that blond rouge whispering into Titus's ear. My skin crawls when he smiles, venomous eyes finding mine before he says the worst thing I could ever imagine.
"I hope you come again soon Serena," Titus says, stopping Ryder and I in our tracks. "It would make your little brother and sisters so very happy."