There were vampires in his parent’s front yard. Raiden watched them from his bedroom window as they crept their way through the shadows into the unlocked front door, the moonlight catching on the skin of their faces, and the red glow of their Other in their eyes.
“Does it smell good in there, fellows?” He murmured with malicious enjoyment that their search would be fruitless. “Lots of blood, lots of scent. But no injured vampire.” And no Lia either, but he could not bear to speak that out aloud, her absence a sharp pain.
“What are you watching?” Alatar joined him at the window. “I can’t see anything.”
“Vampires just went in next door. Sniffing down Elior. I am waiting to see if they leave or come here to cause trouble.” Raiden glanced at the mage. “What is up?”
“Maybe something, may be nothing. About an hour ago, I got a reaction on the feather, and the hairbrush.”
“And you are just telling me now?” Raiden growled, rounding on the warlock, the Other flashing golden in his eyes.
“A reaction is one thing, I had to use them to find a destination and that took time.”
“But you have a destination?” Raiden grabbed his jacket off the bed.
“Don’t you need to see what happens with the vampires?” Alatar wondered as he followed the werewolf from the room and down the stairs.
“Mum and dad can handle it,” Raiden pulled his phone from his pocket and sent a text message.
“Tara isn’t coming?” Alatar asked disingenuously.
Raiden side-eyed him. “Are you making up to my sister, warlock?”
“Maybe,” Alatar shrugged ruefully. “I would like to, but she is not giving me a clear sign of interest and I don’t want to ruin the friendship.”
“You are not friend zoned,” Raiden opened the front door and checked each way, inhaling. “We are clear. Come on.” He strode out into the garden, his steps silent so as not to alert the vampires in the house next door.
“I am not?” Alatar brightened as he trailed Raiden through the dark. “Shit,” he exclaimed as he stumbled on a pothole hidden in the darkness. “Slow down, Rai, I don’t have your night vision.”
“Keep it down, eh?” Raiden grimaced – too late. A red-haired female vampire jumped the side fence between his parent’s back garden and his own and stood in the moonlight, scrutinizing the werewolf and the warlock, her Other vivid in her eyes.
“We are not after trouble,” Raiden told her. “We are not part of this.”
“A vampire was brought to the house next door,” she tilted her head as she examined them as if expecting them to pull Elior out of their pockets. “He is not there now.”
“We know nothing about that,” Raiden replied calmly. “We are just going about our business. Running late, in fact.”
“Very late,” Alatar agreed.
She narrowed her eyes as she regarded them. “You would be foolish dogs to harbor Elior.”
“Elior?” Raiden repeated looking at Alatar. “Haven’t seen him, have you? Nope, he hasn’t seen him either. Have you checked his club?”
She snarled, showing her teeth.
“Alright,” Raiden drew in a deep breath through his nose. “I am in a hurry, and I would really prefer not to kill you, but we are not going to finish this conversation pleasantly, are we?” He shifted, tearing through his clothes, and his wolf snarled as it landed upon the ground.
The vampire took a step back, lifting her lip to reveal her teeth. “Alpha wolf,” she observed, taking in Raiden’s wolf’s size. “I have killed your kind before.”
“Maybe so,” Alatar stepped back out of the way of the battle and drew upon his power, sparking red like electrical current between his fingers. “But have you killed an alpha wolf and a warlock?”
She leapt and Raiden’s wolf met her mid-air, the collision of their bodies an audible thud. For a moment, battle waged between them, two sets of snarling teeth, fur and blood flying, but Raiden out-muscled, and out sized her, and the balance quickly turned.
She shrieked, the sound sharp and brittle in the night, as Raiden ripped her arm from the shoulder joint and discarded it.
“Enough!” A second woman vampire jumped the fence, landing before the injured woman, her dark hair falling over her face with the movement. She tossed it over her shoulder impatiently. “What is going on here?” She demanded.
Raiden shifted back into man, his face and chest red with vampire blood, and his eyes wild, holding the shimmer of the Other vividly. “I could ask the same f-king question. I was just minding my business, giving a friend a lift home,” he said, straightening to his full height, the valleys and rises of his muscles catching in the moonlight and shadows of the night impressively. “And she challenged me. She is lucky it was an arm, and not her head. You are on pack territory, trespassing. I don’t know what the f-k you are doing here, but I am within my rights to defend my land.”
“We seek Elior,” the new woman inhaled, but her sense of smell was not as keen as a wolf’s. “He was next door.”
“Possible,” Raiden replied. “But I have only been home briefly for a change of clothes,” he looked down at himself and sighed. “That was my favourite jacket,” he added irritably. “I will have to return to my house for another f-king change of clothes now, so thanks for that. I send you the f-king bill.”
“I am sorry for the inconvenience,” the woman’s lips curled as she drew her eyes from his feet to his head and down again. “And, also, not sorry. There is no scent of Elior’s blood on this side of the fence,” she said to the woman who cowered behind her. “At least not that I can detect over your blood, you fool.”
“Get the f-k off my land,” Raiden told them with a flash of his Other and his teeth bared in a snarl. “And off pack territory before you start a f-king war between vampires and werewolves.”
“We will leave,” the second woman agreed. “But the pack should know that any who harbor Elior or his children, makes an enemy of Lucian and his allies. You would be wise to cast them out. This is a vampire matter – it should not involve wolves.”
Raiden swallowed his retort that Lucian had involved the wolves when he had stolen a mate as a blood slave, but he did not. “I will let them know. Now get the f-k off my lawn.”
He stalked back towards the house with Alatar on his heels. As he entered the door code, he inhaled.
“They are gone,” he murmured. “Good. That went better than I had planned, but now I stink of sickly-sweet vampire blood, and I need to shower. Where are we headed, anyway?”
“Oh, no where you can drive to,” Alatar replied.
“Then why the f-k were you letting me lead you to the f-king car?” Raiden snarled over his shoulder as he went through his bedroom and started the shower.
“You didn’t explain where you were going,” Alatar pointed out. “And you distracted me with talk of Tara, so…”
“Alright, f-king fine,” Raiden stepped under the flow of water, rubbing soap into his face and chest with disgusted thoroughness. “Where the f-k are we going, and how the f-k can we get there?” He asked over the strike of the water against the tiles.
“I need some spell components,” Alatar replied. “And I will open a portal.”
“Where can we get the components that you need?”
“My shop would be the closest destination, which was also why I wasn’t interfering with your leading me to the car,” Alatar pointed out as Raiden shut off the water and dried off. “Wow, Rai, you are really built. Is that, like, normal for werewolves, or do you work out?” The warlock asked as Raiden strode out the en suite and into the walk-in-wardrobe.
“Normal,” Raiden replied pulling on jeans and a t-shirt. “Though I do work out when I get the chance.”
“So, Tara would expect this sort of physique?” The warlock bunched an arm and compared his bicep.
“Tara likes you,” Raiden took pity on him. “How you look, doesn’t matter. If you are a mate, that is just it. You are perfect, just the way you are, to your mate, as long as you are healthy and looking after yourself. That is all a mate cares about. Your well-being is paramount.” God, he thought to himself, he missed Lia.
Talking about mates brought his loss back keenly, like a stabbing blade in his chest, and he paused, to press the heel of his hand against his sternum.
“Are you okay, Rai?” Alatar looked at him in concern.
“It hurts,” Raiden grimaced, pushing the pain away and sitting on the bed to pull on his shoes and socks. “To be apart from Lia. It is a werewolf thing. Separation from a mate can become physically painful.”
“I am sorry, man,” Alatar said with empathy.
“Just… find her for me, please,” Raiden met his eyes. “I need her back.”
“I will do my best,” Alatar promised, following again as Raiden left the room. “So, how do I know if I am Tara’s mate?”
“You would know by now, Alatar,” Raiden said gently. “But not being her mate doesn’t mean she is not interested. It just means that her perfect person hasn’t come along yet, so don’t hang any hopes on permanency. The moment that person comes, her relationship with you will be over. But in the interim, you can still f-k and enjoy each other.”
“Damn,” Alatar was deflated. “I am a relationship guy. What is the use of getting that invested in another person, if you know there is a due date on the relationship?”
“Werewolves do it all the time,” Raiden shrugged. “Lia isn’t my first relationship. I ended my last relationship when I first encountered her. It is the way things are with us.”
“Cold,” Alatar observed as they drew near the garage again and Raiden stooped to search through the rags of his clothing for his keys and phone. This time there was no vampire interference and Raiden opened the roller door. “Porsche,” Alatar drooled a little. “Please take the Porsche.”
Raiden unlocked the 4WD and Alatar moaned. “No way, man,” Raiden replied without looking up from his phone as he typed a message. “I am not leaving the Porsche parked near your shop for however long this will take. It won’t be there when we get back.”
“But this might be the last car ride of our lives,” Alatar pleaded.
“Don’t be so pessimistic. We will take the Porsche out another time,” Raiden was amused despite himself. “I had no idea you were a fan.”
“Have you seen the shit box I drive?” Alatar pointed out.
“You would think the coven would invest it’s assets better.”
“We don’t have the lifespan of the rest of you. And the witch hunts were murder, literally. My ancestors had to abandon their property, or had it confiscated more than once. Hey,” Alatar noticed that Raiden had not started the engine. “What are we waiting for?”
“Tara,” Raiden nodded towards the back door of the house and after a moment, Tara came running across the lawn. “Helping romance out.”
“Aw, man,” Alatar said with appreciation.
“Hey,” Tara opened the back passenger door and slid in. “So, what is happening?”
“We are going to Alatar’s shop, for spell components. He has a destination for the feather and hairbrush.”
“Great,” Tara buckled in. “Let’s go get my sister-in-law.”
Once they were on the road, Raiden glanced at his sister in the rear-view mirror. “How are things going downstairs?”
“Baby arm and leg, it is sort of gross and sort of cute at the same time,” she pulled a face. “Vampires are disgusting.”
“They are victims, same as werewolves,” Alatar pointed out. “You were all humans, initially, before the angels decided to f-k with you and made you what you are.”
“I like what I am,” Tara was insulted.
“I am not saying it is not a good thing,” Alatar amended hastily. “Just, that angels are bad, and it is not vampire’s fault that they are gross and predatory. I would take werewolves any day.”
“Thanks, A,” Tara was mollified.
“Fully converted, now?” Raiden commented on Alatar’s fervency.
“Man, a guy with wings flew off with your mate,” Alatar pointed out. “Sorry,” he added with a grimace when Raiden’s expression became strained.”But I am holding one of his feathers. What more proof do you need that angels are real, and if they are real, the stories about them must be based in some truth, too, eh?”
“He has a point, Rai,” Tara said from the back seat.
“What about the moon goddess, then?” Raiden protested.
“You have never believed in her before,” Tara scoffed. “Just sort of gone through the motions when necessary.”
“No,” Raiden conceded. “Maybe not. But, to think that our ancestors were slaves that were experimented on, and that history has been lost… Is just… Hideous.”
“History is written by the victors,” Alatar offered solemnly. “I wonder why the angels are no longer around, personally. I mean, they made you guys, and then, what, set you free and said, good luck guys? It doesn’t seem right.”
“And how come this winged guy is the first that we have seen? Where are they all?” Tara added.
“Exactly.” Alatar raised his eyebrows. “Where do they live? Why aren’t they hanging around here?”
“Don’t look at me,” Raiden replied. “I am just looking for my mate.”
“Who looks like she is a descendant of the first angel to survive having her wings cut off,” Alatar pointed out. “Hey,” he paused. “Those people that tried to abduct her… That you thought were from a coven? Maybe they were trying to abduct her because of what she is?”
“And what is she?” Raiden wondered.
“Something out of the ordinary, Rai,” Tara said. “If her blood made Lucian stronger and faster like Elior says, maybe it is because she is what she is?”
“If you knew that there was a line of witches and warlocks that could make vampires stronger, wouldn’t you want to… you know, prevent that?” Alatar slid Raiden a look out of the corner of his eye. “I would, wouldn’t you?”
“Shit,” Raiden said under his breath. “Yeah, probably.”
“Which makes me wonder, who knows?” Alatar concluded. “Who would know that this family holds that power? Not vampires, or they would have hunted them down before and would probably breed them.”
“Good question,” Raiden agreed. “But we have more immediate concerns, such as getting Lia back.”
“Right,” Alatar drew out the feather and held it between the palms of his hand. “It is a strong trace, Rai. Don’t worry about that.”
“Good,” Raiden said as he pulled up in the car park spaces out the front of Alatar’s shop of alternative therapies and oddments. “Now get us to where we need to be.”