A vampire.
Nothing should have surprised me after everything else I had been through. I mean, I was a teen werewolf, who had grown up with a werewolf mom, and I had been kidnapped by a whole pack of werewolves. There was nothing normal about growing fur and a tail whenever I wanted. So if we existed, didn’t it make sense that other supernaturals would, too?
But I always imagined vampires being something creepy and slimy lurking in a castle, like Dracula with his big cape and the overblown Transylvanian accent. This guy was nothing like that. He looked strong, but slender, and when he spoke it felt as though I was being caressed with his silken voice. His eyes smoldered with dark fire that was both alluring and deadly all at once.
If he had said he was a model or an actor, I would have believed him. Or even a hypnotist or snake charmer or some other trained magician. But a vampire?
On the other hand, the fangs were pretty convincing.
“Oh,” I said finally. It probably sounded just as stupid as it felt to say it, but my brain wasn’t capable of producing anything better at the moment.
He laughed. It was a wonderful, rich sound, and I found myself unconsciously leaning toward him. “You really had no idea,” he said softly, shaking his head, and then almost to himself he added, “You’re very unexpected.”
“I mean, you’re not what I thought a vampire would look like,” I said, trying—and failing again—to come up with some quick-witted response. But my brain felt stuck on processing the word he’d given me. Vampire. Is that why my wolf wanted to attack him? Were we natural enemies or something?
“I do hope that’s a compliment,” he said.
I felt my cheeks heat and let my answer drop. “I didn’t know vampires were real. That sounds silly but I guess I thought … Shifters, wolves, were the only supernatural thing out there.”
“Lucky for you, you were wrong,” he said and I didn’t miss the note of teasing. Or flirting.
Was he flirting with me? I forced my attention back to the conversation before my clammy palms could begin sweating at the thought.
“Vampires are … I mean, you drink blood and all that?” I asked, earning a laugh.
I took that as my answer but from there, the questions flooded in as acceptance dawned. Vampires were real. But what were the rules? Did he age normally? Was he a thousand years old? How strong was he? Judging by the ache in my throat, I had a good idea. I opened my mouth to ask one or more of these questions, but he held up his hand, clucking. “I’ve answered one of yours. Now you get to answer one of mine.”
I frowned. “Fine,” I said.
“My precious little runner, tell me this—are you running toward something or away?”
I could have lied. It would have been easy, and, in fact, it would have been safer for me. When I opened my mouth, I fully intended to say that I was just having fun. Out for a jog.
Instead, my gaze locked on his and the truth came tumbling out.
“I had to get away. That pack—they’re crazy.” I lowered my voice. “They kill things.”
“And you don’t?” he asked, a smirk ghosting his lips.
“No,” I said, “of course not.”
His smile disappeared and eyes widened the smallest sliver. Was he surprised by my announcement or my naiveté?
He stepped closer to me, circling and giving me a long, up-and-down look from feet to head that made me feel a little dirty. Like he was imagining me naked. “You aren’t what I would have expected at all,” he murmured.
His breath was cool on my neck. I tried to hide my shiver.
“Who are you?” I asked, my back prickling at the way he seemed to draw me to him without even trying.
“Who am I? That’s an excellent question.” He gave me a closed-lipped smile. The points of his fangs left little indents in his bottom lip. “Who am I? Hmm.”
I straightened my shoulders and focused on the point of his nose rather than meeting his gaze directly. It was slightly easier this way to maintain my wits. “It’s not a difficult question.”
“Not a simple answer, either. And even if I answered your question, it wouldn’t tell you what you wanted to know,” he said.
I rolled my eyes. “Are you always this cryptic?”
“Are you always such a coward?” he shot back.
“I’m not a coward!” If I’d still had my fur, it would’ve risen on end at his comment. I felt guilty of his accusation even though I knew I shouldn’t, and became immediately defensive. “I don’t belong here.”
“And why is that?” he asked, head cocked.
I tried to put it into words without giving too much away. I still wasn’t sure I should be talking to him. He’d made it clear he wasn’t friends with the pack. But something about him made it impossible for me to ignore his barbs and questions. He watched me and waited as if he truly wanted to know the answers. As if he wanted to understand me. It was more than I could say for any of them. “Sharing blood with people doesn’t make you the same as them,” I said carefully.
His eyes flickered with understanding and I realized too late that I’d just admitted to being related to one of them. I held my breath, waiting to see if the realization changed things. Maybe he’d attack me again after all. But he didn’t move toward me.
“Can’t disagree with you there, darling, but is it so bad that you need to flee?” he asked. Still casual, as if the admission didn’t mean anything to him.
My shoulders slumped. I’d come this far, might as well lay it all out. “I’m being forced to fight my sister,” I said. “For the role of alpha.”