2. A Horde of What Now?

TWO

a horde of what now?

We leave the house with a promise of more contact and nothing else to go on. No plan, no secret contact method, nothing. In other words, we know nothing more than we did before. Thorne's energy has been off since leaving Eudora and Marnie, and I know why without asking. It's not until we're several streets over that he speaks for the first time, confirming my suspicion.

"What the hell were you thinking, Elsie?" he asks once we're out of earshot of the goddess.

I stop walking, turning toward the man I've loved for three centuries. "What was I thinking? I was thinking that she's the bitch who caused all of this to happen. If Kragen hadn't thought she was dead and taken revenge on you, none of this would've happened. "

"It did happen," he retorts. "You can't change the past. You can only look toward the future."

"Thank you, Dr. Phil." I continue walking.

A large hand on my arm stops my movement. "Elsie, I understand that you're angry. I'm angry, too. If you can stop Kragen, then you should do it."

"If you think for one minute that woman back there doesn't have ulterior motives, then you're not as smart as I thought you were."

"Damn, Elsbeth," Luna says, moving in front of us. "I'm not sure what's going on with you, but you're not acting like yourself."

"Maybe neither of you has seen the real me." I turn, leaving them standing on the sidewalk. Thorne calls through my mind several times, but I push his words away. Moving toward the river, the smell of blood fills my soul. I've lost track of the last time I ate. The damn goat's blood isn't working for me, which might explain the bitchiness I feel.

The sun is beginning to set over the horizon, casting a colorful glow on the city behind me. I close my eyes, allowing my senses to lead me toward my next meal. The meal I've deprived myself of for the past few months. It doesn't take long to find it. The smell of alcohol hits me before the scent of O negative—my favorite—does.

I turn, finding the source of the smell, staggering his way down the sidewalk. Stepping in front of him, I block his path, stopping him in his tracks .

"Excuse me," he slurs.

"No, excuse me." I make eye contact with him, reaching to touch his shoulder. "Do you need help?"

He burps loudly. "No, thank you. I'm good." He moves around me, nearly falling as he steps off the sidewalk.

Wrapping my arm through his, I pull him close to my side. "Let me help you."

"You're pretty," he stumbles over his words. "You remind me of my daughter."

"That's sweet," I answer, pulling him closer toward the recesses of the riverbank. "How old is she?"

"She was twenty." He immediately starts crying, catching me off guard. "My wife and I are in town for her funeral."

Shit. "I'm sorry," I whisper. "Where are you going?"

"Over there." He points toward the water. "I'm going to join her. Just needed a little liquid courage first."

I look around, hoping to find someone to pawn him off on and finding no one. "I'm not going to let you do that." I pull him under the streetlight and away from the water. "Are you staying at a hotel?"

He hands me a key card from a building that's only a few blocks away. "My wife is there. She doesn't understand. I just want to be with her. Be with my sweet girl."

With my hunger suddenly gone, I usher the man back to the vintage hotel. The moment we open the large wooden front door, a middle-aged woman rushes to his side. "Marty, are you okay? You scared me when you ran out of the funeral home."

Marty doesn't respond. Instead, he grabs his wife, pulls her close, and cries the kind of tears that are reserved for times like this. I turn, leaving the couple to mourn. Anger and guilt wreak havoc on my stomach as I realize how fucked up I truly am.

Dammit, what's wrong with me? Thorne's right. I'm being a class-A bitch. Closing my eyes, I focus on Thorne's face and try to send a message the same way he does to me—through his mind. I know he's nearby. His energy has stayed close since I stormed away. To his credit, he's left me alone to pout. "I'm sorry." I send silently.

"Me, too," he responds immediately. "You saved that man's life."

I huff a laugh. "Yeah, I'm getting soft."

"You're not a killer," Thorne says, stepping behind me.

"I'm trying," I whisper. "But that goat's blood sucks."

"Let's find you something a little better." He wraps his long fingers through mine, pulling me toward the familiar bar that serves as the lycan's headquarters.

"Hiya!" Luna says the moment we enter. Unlike before, the room is full of lycan and humans, who have no idea they're the minority in the room .

"Am I eating a lycanthrope?" I ask as we make our way to the bar. Several large men turn in my direction.

"I heard that," Luna says as she sets a wine glass full of dark red liquid in front of me. "This is fresh and should help the snarkiness a little." She stares, waiting for me to empty the glass.

I send a glare toward Thorne, wondering if the two of them have had a conversation about my attitude. "Thank you."

"Sure thing." She doesn't move as I pick up the glass, taking a small sip at first and then finishing the contents in one gulp. I feel better the instant it hits my stomach.

I close my eyes, relishing the flavor. "That tasted like a glass of sunshine."

"You're welcome," Luna answers with a smile.

"That…that was your blood?"

"Yep." She picks up the empty glass, wiping underneath it. "You've got a little…" She points at her chin.

I copy her movement, wiping the small amount of blood from my chin. "Is that what all lycan tastes like?"

"I'd like to think no, but truthfully, I have no clue."

"Thank you, Luna." She smiles, turning back to her duties at the bar.

"There's someone here that wants to meet with us," Thorne says, pulling me away from my meal.

I sigh. "Dammit, why is there always something?"

"Because until Kragen is dead, neither of us is free." He opens the door to Connor's office, revealing a familiar vampire and her Alpha husband.

"Elsie," Amelia says, moving in front of me and hugging me tightly.

"I took the liberty of filling Christopher and Amelia in on the events of this afternoon," Connor says, standing from his desk.

"We were already in the city, so the timing was perfect," Amelia answers.

"I suppose you two think I need to work with Eudora, too?"

They share a look. "I don't think you have a choice," Topher answers for the two of them. "None of us have any experience with someone like Eudora. Hell, she's a goddess. I thought they were the things of movies and fantasy books."

"Did you even read my thesis?" Amelia asks her husband.

He stands, ignoring her question. "We're in the city for reasons besides Eudora."

"What's going on?" Thorne asks.

Connor stands, turning on a television hung high on the wall. A young reporter is standing in front of what looks like a brick home in the suburbs of Anytown, America. Yellow caution tape surrounds the perimeter as police swarm in and out of the house .

"Police say the bodies were placed in what appears to be a ritualistic circle and completely drained of blood," the reporter announces .

"Vampires?" I ask the crowd.

"Sounds that way," Micah, the future Alpha of Charleston and Connor's son, answers, joining the conversation for the first time.

"Out of the twenty students at the party, five are missing from the premises, while the rest were found deceased," the reporter continues.

"Students?" Thorne asks.

"A college frat party," Amelia answers.

"Feeders?" I ask the crowd.

"Most likely. Does anyone think Kragen had anything to do with this?" Thorne asks.

"Common sense says yes, but my spies say he's still in the swamps of south Louisiana," Topher answers.

I look around the room. "Is there a vampire capable of doing something like this, other than Kragen, that's in the area?"

"Not that I'm aware of," Connor answers. "Not unless someone is passing through with a horde of monsters."

"I believe I can help with that," a deep voice answers as the door opens. The vampire energy flowing from him instantly fills the room.

"Thank you for coming, Elijah." Connor moves toward the stranger, greeting the man with a handshake.

"I would like to say it was my pleasure, but we both know that isn't true." His accent holds the typical South Carolina drawl mixed with something I don't recognize. His ebony skin is the perfect accent to his amber-colored eyes. High cheekbones accentuate his angular face, giving him a mysterious, otherworldly look. He looks around the room, fixing his eyes on Thorne and me. "Who are you?"

"Captain Hawthorne Rex." Thorne moves in front of the man, holding his hand out.

"Elijah Montclair," the man responds, shaking his hand. "Since I don't recognize you, I'm assuming you're friends of Connor's."

"They are," Connor answers for us.

Elijah turns toward me. "And who is this lovely lady?"

"Elsbeth Abernathy." He lifts my hand, bringing it to his lips, and kissing gently. His motions surprisingly bring chills to my skin.

"Elsbeth. What a lovely name." His eyes linger on mine longer than necessary.

Thorne moves protectively to my side. "Do you know anything about the murders?" He nods toward the television.

"I don't. I'm assuming that's why I was asked to join this,"—Elijah looks around the room—"meeting."

"It is," Connor answers. "As the elder vampire in Charleston, I thought you might be privy to information that I am not."

"You think this was done by vampires?" Elijah points at the television behind him.

"The bodies were drained of blood, and five of them are missing," I repeat the information from the broadcast.

"Nothing else makes sense," Micah states the obvious. "Nothing was stolen, and there was no evidence of a motive."

"What aren't you telling us?" Amelia asks, stepping closer to the vampire.

Elijah's face wrinkles with question as she approaches. "I thought the wolf energy I was feeling was because of this location and the lycan in this room." He smiles, showing a mouthful of snow-white teeth. "You are quite intriguing, young one." He sniffs the air around her.

"Stop, you're going to make me blush." Her voice is laced with sarcasm, making me like her even more.

"Your maker was ancient," he continues.

" Is ancient," Amelia interrupts. "She's still alive."

Elijah bows slightly. "Excuse me for my mishap of words." He begins to walk around her, assessing her from all angles. "You have lycan blood as well as vampire?"

Amelia turns, looking at her Alpha husband. He smiles, nodding his head slightly. "I have a splash," she answers with a smirk.

He turns his nose up, sniffing the air in front of him. "Smells like more than a splash."

"My mother was a hybrid. Half human and half lycan," she continues .

"Who would've thought something so perverse was possible?"

She huffs a laugh. "Yeah, who knew?"

The energy in the room feels thicker than moments before. Something is about to happen. Instinctively, I move away from the duo.

"Show him, my love," Topher encourages her from his spot on the wall.

"You might want to move, Mr. Montclair." Amelia bounces on her feet slightly, reminding me of an athlete about to run the race of their lifetime. She begins to shake her hands out, and within seconds, the beautiful woman transforms into a larger-than-life red wolf. She moves closer to the vampire until barely any space separates the two of them. In wolf form, Amelia is much larger than her human form. Her shoulders line up with Elijah's eyes. She bends slightly, licking him on the face and covering him in lycanthrope slobber.

"Amelia says you taste like sunshine," Topher interrupts the awkwardness. "She would like to know if she has adequately answered your question as to what she is?"

Elijah steps back, pulling a bright red handkerchief from his suit jacket and dramatically wiping his face. "You have, my dear. Thank you."

The wolf's head bows before she begins shaking, resembling a dog in a bathtub. Standing in the middle of the room is the tiny woman from before. Long red curls cover her breasts as Topher wraps a blanket around her waist.

"Holy shit," Thorne whispers through my mind.

"Agreed," I answer.

"I'll ask you again, Mr. Montclair. What aren't you telling us?" Amelia's words carry more weight than before.

"May I?" Elijah asks, motioning toward an empty chair in front of Connor's desk.

"Please." Connor motions to the chair.

Elijah sighs before speaking. "A few months prior, I was contacted by a woman looking for a safe place for her and her children to rest for a few weeks."

"By children, I'm assuming you mean the vampires she's created," I fill in the blanks.

"She said they were going to be in the area and would require sustenance for the time they're here." Elijah avoids my question.

"What was her name?" Amelia asks.

"Patrice," he answers.

I share a look with Thorne and Amelia. From the looks on their faces, they don't recognize the name either. "What was she doing?" Thorne asks.

Elijah shrugs. "She never said, and I never asked."

"The children would explain the drained bodies," Topher says what we're all thinking.

"What was her purpose for coming to Charleston?" Connor asks .

"Again, I never asked. Minding one's business is an excellent way to keep friends."

"You're just full of useful information," I say as bitchy Elsie rears her ugly head.

Elijah stands. "I believe that is my cue to leave." He moves closer to the door and bows to the people in the room. "It's been a pleasure to make your acquaintances." He closes the door behind him.

"A horde of hungry vampires in the vicinity doesn't sound like a good thing," Micah says, crossing his arms in front of him.

"Who is Patrice? Is her name familiar to anyone?" Topher asks.

"I don't know, but I intend to find out." Amelia wraps her blanket tighter.

"It seems we have a much larger problem than Kragen and Eudora at the moment." Connor stands from his desk.

I can't control the laugh that boils up from inside me. "The Goddess of the Sea, a two-thousand-year-old vampire, and their offspring are trumped by a horde of hungry vampires? That was not on my bingo card for today."

Amelia joins my laughter. "I agree." She turns to the men surrounding us. "What are we going to do about it?"

"How long is Eudora willing to wait?" Micah asks.

I shrug. "I have no idea. She doesn't seem like the type of person that shares her plans on a regular basis. "

"Then we deal with the horde first," Topher announces, taking the lead.

"We need to get into that house." Micah nods at the television screen. "Something tells me there is more to the story than what they're reporting."

"I'll make some calls." Connor steps out of the room with his phone in hand.

"What are you thinking?" Thorne asks Micah.

He shrugs. "Nothing specific, but something feels off about this entire thing. First, Eudora and her daughter are in town and now this. There's more to this than the obvious."

Connor steps back into the office. "We have access to the house at midnight."

"Will we be alone?" Micah asks.

"Yes." Connor turns toward Topher. "If you don't mind, I'd like Micah to accompany you four to the house."

"Of course," Topher answers.