Chapter 9

Chapter Nine

Ember

I make a quick stop by my house, where my mother and little brother corner me for details about my date. Chaos is lucky he’s an incubus and can siphon at will. The urge to rip his throat out is strong, especially when he makes a point of mentioning I smell like Veryn. Kicking them out of my room is anything but swift, but I finally manage.

A shower and change of clothes does wonders for my messy hair, but it does nothing for the general run-down feeling I haven’t been able to shake.

It doesn’t matter. I have work to do.

It takes way too long to get back out of my house, including a conversation with all four of my dads as I try to sneak to my car.

“The universe has it out for me today,” I grumble to myself, waving at my fathers as I back out of the driveway.

I’m more than halfway through the hour-long drive to the human club and singing along with the radio when my phone rings. The console alerts me that it’s Rogue, and I push the button on my steering wheel to answer.

“Are you already on your way?” Rogue asks.

“Yup,” I agree.

“Crap.” She sighs. “Don’t be annoyed, but Delta and her team found their target from that heist crew. She called Gemma and me in for backup.”

“Okay…”

“So, you can probably take the night off,” Rogue says. “I doubt we’ll make it in time, and you know the rule about working solo.”

I roll my eyes.

The guys who work for Owen do not have that same ludicrous rule.

“Thanks for the update,” I say drolly. “But I’m almost to the club. I won’t engage, but I will go in and look around.”

“Ember,” she huffs. “Now I feel like an asshole because I told you we’d be there, and we aren’t.”

I snort, shaking my head. “Don’t feel bad. Delta would rather lose a hand than call me in to help with one of her cases.”

And I have less than no idea why, but that witch doesn’t like me… at all .

It is what it is.

Her dislike of me may have stemmed from me being the one to catch a high-value target that Owen gave to both of our teams, but that’s part of the job.

I would have been annoyed too. I just wouldn’t have developed an all-out vendetta over it.

Then again, my alpha blood lives for a good fight or even friendly competition.

“Call me once you leave,” Rogue says, reminding me a little of my mom. “If you don’t, I’ll have Gemma siphon us over there, so don’t forget.”

I laugh, moving my thumb to hover over the disconnect button. “You got it, Momma Rogue.”

The bar has fewer patrons than last time, but the dance floor is busier than what I would expect on a Monday night.

My beer is tart and cool as I sip at it, scanning the booths and keeping my ears open. Half the time, we end up with leads in the most random ways, like overhearing two people talking who aren’t even involved with the case.

My knee bounces. I’m using the rung of the chair as a footrest, but my wolf is unsettled. No matter how hard I fight her, she won’t shut up. She wants to leave because she’s convinced this is a waste of time.

However, I think she just wants an excuse to creep around the pack lands to see if we magically run across Sanders.

I’m not ready to fully give up on finding something here. Maybe I’m also a little confused about Lorcan.

Who the hell is he?

Why was he waiting for me outside the bathroom?

Almost like my thoughts summoned him, the man in question gracefully slides into the barstool at my side.

My head whips up as my wolf paces. There’s no other way I know how to describe it, but if I could visibly see an image of her in my mind, she would be stalking back and forth, chuffing her displeasure.

Lorcan has his blond hair in two French braids that begin at the front of his head and mesh at the crown to form a bun. The bottom half of his head appears to be shaved all the way around.

I couldn’t see much the other night, due to his hood, but I’ve got the full picture now.

He does boast a set of pointy ears, which leads me to suspect some type of elven or fae lineage. He also has the type of ethereal beauty that points to one of those options. The dual rings in his nose and the thick stubble on his jaw… It all really works for him.

Licking my lips, I try to covertly scent the air, but I’m not able to pick up anything that blatantly tells me his species.

“What are you?” I twist to face him fully. “And why have you sought me out twice now?”

“For a wolf who knows so little”—he raises a hand for the bartender—“you’re very bold.”

“I like to blame that on my alpha blood,” I deadpan. “Now, tell me who the hell you are and why I couldn’t say a word about our interaction.”

The bartender comes over with a drink already in hand for Lorcan. That must mean they know him well around here. He drops cash on the bar, and the bartender glances at me.

“Do you need another round?”

“I’m good,” I reply in as friendly a tone as I can muster.

The bartender’s black hair bounces with his clipped nod. He spins around and heads back down to the slightly busier end of the bar without another word.

“You’re on the edge of something that, once you become sucked in, there won’t be an easy path back out.” Lorcan lifts his drink, sniffing it thoroughly before taking a tiny sip.

My head tilts. “That was a roundabout way to say nothing helpful at all…”

The way he smacks his lips makes me think he’s checking to see if his drink was laced with poison or something. With his stellar disposition, that would be an absolutely shocking turn of events.

“How much do you know about what you are?” he asks in barely more than a whisper.

“I’m a shifter. I grew up in a house with two other shifters.” I shrug. “Why are you suddenly obsessed with me?”

His gray eyes sparkle, and not in that hypnotizing way. “Who wouldn’t be? You’re quite an enigma.”

My head shakes.

I’ve met some infuriating men in my day, and this guy is right up at the top of the list. My hand slides into my pocket, grabbing a few extra dollars in cash for an additional tip. I toss it down on the bar and move to stand.

“Calm down and listen to me.” Lorcan reaches out a hand so swiftly, I almost miss it. His scratchy fingers wrap around my wrist as I glare at the contact. “I’m sorry,” he says, and it sounds like it takes quite the effort for him to force the words out. “I’m unused to communicating with anyone new, but I’m not purposely being difficult. Please sit.”

My eyes rake over his face, and with a heavy sigh, I drop back onto the barstool.

“The universe appreciates balance. It has a set order and plan for things. Unfortunately, humanity, monsterkind, demons, the fae—whatever species you can imagine—we all seem to love to fuck that up.”

I place an elbow on the bar, leaning close. “I get the feeling you’re actually trying right now, but I’m still lost.”

“You know what you are,” he says, his accent exceptionally thick. “And you’re also young, so there’s every possibility you have no idea what it means.”

My head tilts as his face contorts. His eyes are glassy and a little far away.

My wolf also takes notice. If she was the one in charge, she’d probably nuzzle her head to his hand and try to comfort him—which is in no way her normal style.

“Female alphas are rare, but not unheard of,” I say, trying to determine if that’s what this is about.

“It’s not your wolf but your dual nature that makes you a target,” he says, and his voice is finally back to the normal version of his accent.

“Wolves mix with humans all the time…” My face wrinkles as my mind races.

This cannot be about my mom’s awful omega genetics .

“Packs thrived for thousands of years. And at the heart of each community pack was a family pack,” Lorcan says softly. “The balance changed when alphas decided they no longer wanted to share the power of running things…” He studies my face like he’s searching for something. Possibly recognition, which I’m sure he finds none of, because I’ve never heard this before.

“Wolves are monogamous,” I hear myself say. Monster communities run a little differently, but most shifters are possessive of their mate and that makes sharing difficult. “Hence, the whole matebond thing.”

Then again, my dad is a demon shifter, and he shares my mom.

Veryn’s family pack consists of a dragon, a wyvern, and a djinn.

My Uncle Ridge is an alpha wolf, and he’s one of four in Nadia’s pack.

Okay, I have no idea why I thought wolves were anti-sharing, but it might just be the ones who live in communal packs. The ones who live in sanctuary cities must adapt and follow the standards set there.

“Omegas were at the center of every cluster leading a substantially sized pack…” Lorcan sighs. “Up until they were hunted nearly out of existence, but the fact I’m sitting here with you now proves at least some survived.”

“I’m not an omega,” I whisper-hiss, glancing around to ensure no one is paying attention to us.

“You are.” His gray eyes meet mine. “At the very least, you will be once those genes activate fully. But the universe or whatever powers that be made you differently.” He sighs, swiping his glass off the bar and taking another long swig. “The omegas of old had no offensive powers of their own. They relied completely on their mates for protection.”

His words remind me a lot of my mom. She’s actually quite weak for a vampire, and I don’t mean that in an insulting way.

I love her exactly the way she is.

I would never want to change her.

Her unique gifts include the ability to reproduce after being turned, to walk in daylight, and to control her bloodlust without ever being driven to kill. She is exceptionally soft for existing in the monster world, though.

Lorcan goes on, saying, “And those mates fiercely protected their omega. As I’m sure you know, bonding an omega provides a significant power boost. This allowed the alpha family pack the additional strength needed to rule over a large community pack. However, there will always be those who envy power. A running theme arose of weaker alphas and even betas murdering omegas before maturity, thus ensuring they could never form a true leading family pack. Follow that path for long enough, and eventually, you can wipe anything out completely.”

My eyes widen.

How old is this guy, exactly? If that was the case at one point in time, it was so long ago that nobody talks about it anymore.

I shake my head. Some things aren’t adding up. “Shifter culture isn’t the only community where omegas were found…” I know that for a fact, because my Aunt Nadia is also an omega, and she’s a witch. My mom may have only had a sliver of watered-down witch blood, but the same is true for her. She’s only a vampire because one of my dads changed her.

“You’re correct, but they were the species punished most heavily for the actions of the few. As a collective, wolves could have chosen to protect their weakest members. I’d say the universe, or whatever powers that be, wanted to prove a point.”

My wolf perks up.

The collapse of females in the wolf population. Her thoughts ring through my mind.

“But as with all things, nature cycles back around.” Lorcan’s eyes glow lightly, and my head gets hazy in response. “I would caution you that those in power do not often have the purest of intentions.” He scoffs, dropping his now-empty drink on the bar. “I shouldn’t be here.”

A light gray mist shimmers through the air. It’s so light, I doubt I would even notice it without my wolf’s enhanced vision.

My mouth falls.

What the hell was that?

“Look at me, little wolf,” Lorcan drawls in that thick English or Scottish accent of his. My gaze snaps to his without conscious thought.

My wolf can’t decide if she finds that term of endearment enchanting or if she should rip his throat out. Though, his tone wasn’t condescending, and now she’s scenting the air like a total weirdo.

Find some chill , I snap, but she continues dragging me closer to the enigma on the barstool next to mine. I’m even more horrified to see the glow of her amber-colored eyes on his pale skin.

“What the hell are you?” I choke out, huffing deep hits of his woodsy scent. It’s earthy and fresh with hints of pine.

“Likely too old for you, but as fate would have it, the universe doesn’t seem to mind.” The backs of his fingers brush my cheek, grabbing a tendril of hair and tucking it behind my ear. “I’ll be around.” He catches my line of sight, and his eyes dilate. “If you need me, simply call for me.”

My head gets so foggy, all I can seem to do is stare at him mindlessly. My wolf is in no better condition. She sends me a barrage of images she has clearly conjured from her imagination.

Me sitting in front of a mirror as Lorcan braids my hair. He’s talented at managing his own, meaning he can clearly do ours. The little freak wants him to scratch behind her ears and tell her what a beautiful wolf she is.

Jesus Christ .

I’m so distracted that I notice the slight pinch several seconds too late.

My eyes fly to my wrist.

There’s a sigil drawn in blood. I have no idea which one or the meaning, but it reminds me of a Celtic rune. It’s vaguely similar to multiple infinity symbols, with wispy hearts popping out on the top and bottom as it runs sideways across my inner wrist.

“A single drop of your blood over the point on this heart will summon me to you.” He runs his finger over the area before the entire thing disappears into my skin.

“What are you?” I repeat more firmly this time. “And what did you do to me?”

“I gave you my calling card.” He sighs. “Let’s hope you never need to use it. And it’s not necessarily the term I prefer for my kind or my gifts, but you’ll likely know me as a druid.” He keeps me stuck in the ridiculous trance as his hand finds my jaw. He thumbs my skin, keeping eye contact. “You may remember our exchanges, but speak of me to no one, unless you trust them implicitly.” The haze of fog that disappeared from around him earlier returns, and I lose all ability to pick up his scent. “I’m no shifter, but your wolf seems antsy. There’s a full moon just around the corner.”

My head tilts as my wolf preens. “There is.”

“She’ll be happiest if you allow her the opportunity to hunt.” He shrugs, booping my nose. “I tried. Your human is awfully stubborn, which I’m sure you know.” A slow smile tugs at his lips. “I bet you are truly a magnificent sight when fully shifted.”

My heart races as my chest rises and falls rapidly.

He’s going to leave us. My wolf whines in my head. She doesn’t want to allow him to go, which is concerning as hell.

Veryn is our mate , I remind her. It seems like, maybe, this druid needs to hear that information too.

“I have a mate,” I sputter, glancing down at my wrist where the spell or whatever it was disappeared.

Lorcan chuckles. “Little wolf, you most certainly have more than one.”

The energy changes as my eyes fly up, but scanning the room produces no result.

He’s gone.