Blood of an Alpha Page 2

  “He’s obsessive. Has this innate need to figure things out. Inquisitive.” Conflicting emotions flashed in her eyes. “He just wanted to be a part of his brother’s lives, wanted back what was kept from him, but he went about it in the worst way.”

  Juliette’s heart was too big with the family motto driven into her head. Family always mattered. Riley had a hard time swallowing the sentiment. She’d choose the Frosts every day, but family and idea of the intimate bond always mattered, was a hard one.

  “You aren’t going to hand him over, are you?” Riley asked.

  The witches wanted him hung and burned. It kept the focus off Chelsea and Lucien, but not all of it. Riley heard Louisa make her veiled threats during a couple of Council meetings, but she was more passionate about Ramsey. Guess killing trumped defying laws.

  Juliette sighed. “I can’t, Riley. He’s their brother and—”

  “And what?” Riley rolled her eyes. “Remember, he tried to kill you.”

  “I know but you weren’t there that night in the motel.” Juliette seemed torn in whatever battle warred inside of her. “There’s something about him I can’t place. Something personal and I need to know why.”

  “What then? You keep him locked up in the apartment?”

  Juliette shrugged. “For now, it’s the best for everyone. For him. For Sterling. Just because we aren’t going to hand him over to hang and burn doesn’t mean we trust him…”

  The hair on the back of Riley’s neck stood on end with a prickle of caution slithering down her spine. Her eyes darted from one person to the next, convinced the panic was nothing until, tucked in a table near the door, she stopped on a man watching her. It was the pair of diamond cat eyes and worn leather jacket lodging her heart in her throat. Picking them out came second nature.

  Tracker.

  He winked at her and put back a shot. She swallowed. The subtle scent of musky pheromones stung her nose, and her stomach churned.

  Shit.

  She flicked her eyes in Ollie’s direction. The man at the table shook his head as if warning her not to even try it. She never wanted to be a burden on the Frosts’ plate. Even when Ollie said he’d stand in front of her, ready to take on any tracker who thought they could take her from him.

  What if they used Juliette against her? What if they used Ollie against her? He’d do it to get his hands on her.

  “Woo hoo,” Juliette waved a hand in her face. “Earth to Riles?”

  She shook off the panic. “Sorry, what were you saying?”

  Juliette’s brow pinched together and looked over her shoulder at the spot. He was gone.

  Shit.

  “You okay?”

  “Yeah, just zoned out. I’m tired.”

  “Ollie keeps you up all hours.”

  She forced a smile. “He’s insatiable.”

  “You sure you’re okay?”

  “Yeah, I’m fine.” She shook off the last of the unease and filled two shots of whiskey. “Why would anything be wrong?” She put the shot back with a hiss. “I’ve got a Frost all to myself and my best friend, happy as can be.”

  For a moment she wasn’t sure it convinced Juliette but then she smiled and put the other shot back.

  “Gonna tell Ollie to take you on a vacation.”

  “I wouldn’t say no.”

  Ramsey | 4

  Ramsey looked on from the window above the kitchen sink as darkness cast over Sterling across the bay. He downed the last bit of beer before tossing the bottle into the trash next to him.

  197 days and counting.

  He watched Sterling transform with the seasons. Morphing from bright pops of blue and reds to oranges and yellows. Halloween brought children to the Docks as the locals hosted their version of trunk or treat from the boats. The children’s delighted squeals of joy and delight as their bags filled with treats warmed his heart.

  He glanced over the sketches laid out on the kitchen island. Sweet little faces stared back at him. Hints of him. Touches of Tess. Hundreds of pictures he’d sketched through the decades just to ensure he never forgot their faces. Clenching his jaw, he headed toward the back of the apartment and into the bedroom, to the dresser, and pulled open a drawer. Taking out a black t-shirt, he eyed the dark brown leather-bound sketchbook on the corner of the dresser. RDN embossed in gold in the center of the leather.

  Halloween brought more than a cool breeze and sweet treats. It was Damien who came around in the beginning, but it wasn’t for brother bonding and Ramsey had scars to prove it.

  He pulled the white t-shirt over his head and tossed it to the corner to join the rest of the laundry. Damien should put the washer and dryer in like he told him. He could do his own laundry. Shaking his head, he pulled a black shirt on. His big brother was as stubborn as he expected him to be but proved to have a bigger heart. He dropped to the edge of the bed, eyeing the leather sketchbook. It was an unexpected Christmas present and he was certain Damien didn’t understand how much it meant.

  He wasn’t asking for much. A chance to be the brothers their father denied them. He knew his actions were misguided. Impulsive. All led by a mixture of anger and jealousy. Rebecca whispering in his ear, nudging him.

  At the root of it all, he had an admiration for his brothers. Damien and Lucien, at least. The jury was out on Ollie. He was the son Adrian wanted and Ramsey paid for it with his childhood. But it took Damien to remind him he wasn’t the only one.

  “Tell me why.” Damien asked.

  He had to think about it. He never let himself stop long enough to think about it. Was there a reasonable explanation?

  “I didn’t see any other way.”

  “Not good enough.”

  Ramsey dragged his hand down his face. “Because I was treated as less than my entire life by our father and I didn’t want to be less than anymore. I wanted to be equal. And I wanted the brothers I was denied.”

  Damien gripped this beer, clenching his jaw. “You tried and almost killed Juliette. Oliver.”

  He nodded with the guilt smothering him. “I didn’t want to hurt her. I need you to believe that.” He had tried to minimize the chances of killing her. “Leaving her in the Riverfront clinging to life had me nearly losing my nerve.”

  She was a part of him, and he was determined to learn why.

  “Yet you told her to get the tip out.”

  “I wanted her to make it.”

  “I should have killed you for it—”

  “You’re right.”

  Damien glared at him. “And Oliver?”

  “It was personal.”

  He grunted. “Personal. You forget he was also the unwanted son. The son punished because our mother fell in love with Adrian. He carried that and back then we didn’t know why.”

  It was the first civil conversation he had with Damien. Lucien came weeks later, just before Thanksgiving. He wanted answers and wasn’t sure which part resonated with his big brother, but he visited once a week ever since.

  The little fierce kitten came too, and Ramsey did as he promised. He gave her back the Marquis grimoire. If Damien had checked the bag he’d asked for from Rebecca’s apartment, he’d have found it wrapped neatly in a shirt at the bottom of the bag.

  It didn’t give him the answers he hoped for, but it didn’t matter. Like clockwork, she came once a week with dinner from Shirley’s and he had the chess board ready.

  Conversation came too easy with her. As if he always knew her. Like a part of him been missing his entire life and suddenly it wasn’t. Not since he opened the motel room door, and she cast wide purple eyes at him. He knew those eyes, and it drove him to insanity because he couldn’t figure it out and he wouldn’t figure it out stuck in the apartment. Cabin fever set in and he was done watching holidays and seasons come and go.

  He held to the blue stone pendant hanging from his neck and blew out a breath, closing the distance to the heavy metal door.

  There were no illusions going up to Val Valena last summer. He knew who he was facing. She was powerful and smart. It would have been a lack of judgement not to anticipate a binding spell.

  He had to test the strength of the channeling stone and whether it could hold his magic. The process had been painful, both giving up the magic and taking it back, but it worked. Insurance ensured whatever Juliette did could be reversed. Death, if it was the case. He hoped it wasn’t.

  Yanking on the pendant, it broke free from his neck, and he gripped it in his hand. Patience was one of the few traits he prided himself on, but even he had a limit. He only wanted ten minutes outside. Breathe fresh air. Nothing more. Then he’d come back inside.

  He gripped the pendant between his fingers, heart thudding in his chest, and with a hard snap it broke.

  A force like a rock slammed into his chest, and his knees hit the ground. Hands trembling, a growl scraping its way up his throat as fiery heat flooded his veins. Bright blue whips wrapped up his arms with a euphoria of strength gripping to every inch of his body. Pulsing down into his bones.

  Sweat covered his brow and he sucked in a breath, staggering to his feet. “Shit.”

  Eyeing the door, he thought twice about attempting to go up against the magic keeping him inside but pressed his hands flat to the cool metal. The magic hummed under his touch. She was so strong. Powerful in her own right.

  He closed his eyes and focused on the magic there. Drawing from it to reserve his own strength. It felt so familiar, the way her lingering power pulsed through the walls. Like his own.

  The spot warmed until fire prickled over his skin, but he refused to let it deter him. He needed out of the apartment. Just for a minute… before he went out of his mind. He did his years of trapped and confined.
Bound to his father’s house for no other reason than he was a hybrid.

  He needed the freedom to know he could come and go as he pleased. Witches be damned. His brothers… be damned.

  Bright blue lit up in his vision, hands flamed like sapphires as he warred with the invisible force draining him. He was ready to give up when a surge of energy jolted up his arms to his chest.

  “Oh, Kitten… so much to learn.”

  He held to the handle, sucked in a breath, and gave it a tug. It opened without resistance. A smile stretched up on his lips.

  “Finally.”

  When his hands hit the door at the bottom of the stairs and he sucked in his first real breath of fresh air in over six months, the tension in his shoulders lessened. It had to be how caged animals felt when set free for the first time. Given the freedom to roam as they were meant to. He raked a gaze over the darkened silhouette of Sterling, heart racing in his chest.

  A little peek won’t hurt. Just a small one.

  It was the middle of the night. Sterling was tucked away. He could make a brief trip over the bridge to the place where he should have grown up and filled with better memories. A quick visit to the acclaimed Frost manor.

  He’d be back home before dawn. What could it hurt?

  Riley | 5

  “Let me be the reason you can finally live without looking over your shoulder.”

  Ollie made her a promise, and she hadn’t looked over her shoulder since. It was easy to believe the trackers and hunters gave up because none ever showed in Sterling. She let her guard down because her vampire made her feel safe. Safe enough to live.

  Now came the consequences.

  Her heart squeezed too tight in her chest trying to hold back the tears. She took Ollie in, sprawled out on the bed, cheeks rosy and sated, with his arm rested over his face. She spent too many hours watching him sleep as the stresses faded away in his expression.

  Whether Ollie knew it, she saw his invincible struggle. A flicker of something in his gentle eyes. It didn’t belong there. She knew he avoided it, or more likely denied it, by feeding it with booze and sex. Like a reluctant bargain with the thing ruling him. He fed it with other addictions to tame it.

  He had enough on his plate without the drama of her life dragging him down deeper. Even when she stopped running, he still gave chase. She didn’t want to be responsible if something happened to Juliette, or Ollie, or any of them when they stood in his path of destruction.

  Hefting a bag over her shoulder, her hands trembled, and mouth ran dry. The folded piece of paper in her hand weighed heavier than any crate she lifted at the bar. She had to leave. If there were any other option to keep him and this family safe, she’d take it, but Ollie deserved at least a goodbye.

  Swallowing, forcing back the urge to be sick, Riley laid the folded page at the end of the bed. She thirsted to kiss him once more. Itched to feel him so she didn’t forget. He stole her heart, and she was leaving it behind with him. She didn’t need it where she was going.

  “I love you,” she whispered.

  Biting back the tears she knew were there, she went to the door and turned the knob. There would be a time and place to break and crumble to mourn him. Grieve him. But now wasn’t the time. The door creaked open, sending her heart down to the pit of her stomach. Don’t wake up. She stilled, waiting, and listening for any sign of life in the house.

  Silence never felt so lonely in the house, but she needed it. She gripped to the second folded piece of paper and crept over the aging floorboards. Avoiding the ones she committed to memory over the months as she made it to the top of the stairs.

  She glanced over her shoulder, and the first onset of crashing grief pulled tight in her chest. The place had become home and the people in it, the family she needed. She’d do anything to protect this family. Even leave them behind to lead the threat and danger away.

  With every step down to the first floor, she shed the commitment and attachment. There was no other way she’d make it through the front door if she didn’t leave herself here. Not a part of herself, but all of her, because when she walked out the door, she’d become the runner. The shell she used to be.

  Run, run, run.

  It was a way of life and she needed to leave the weight of memories behind or they risked bringing her back.

  She went into the study and gave the folded paper one last glance. “For Jules” written across it. As much as she loved Ollie and trusted him, she did not trust him to make sure Juliette got the letter before his inner turmoil ripped through it. Lucien would make sure she got it.

  Blowing out a breath, she went to the front door. In the house's quiet she could hear the echo of giggling hysterics from late-night movie binges with Juliette and Ollie doing awful voice over. The smell of fresh-baked cookies faint in the air from the haphazard baking shenanigans days ago.

  She bit down on her bottom lip when it wobbled. Forcing the tears to stay where they belonged with a promise there’d be a moment for it. But not now.

  This was, and always would be, home but now it was time to move on because family always mattered, and this family mattered most of all.

  Hand on the door, one last look at the life they had blessed her with, she pulled it open and walked out. It clicked behind her, and all of it needed to become a memory. Her steps quickened across the front yard to her truck at the curb. She yanked the driver door open and tossed her bag in. Cold slithered down her spine, prickling awareness crept up her neck and she froze.

  Shit.

  She twisted around, squinting into the darkness, trying to make out the shapes in the shadows. Quiet blanketed the city, but she still listened as if trying to hear over the loudest of Juleps music.

  A whisper of a step and she gripped to the hunting knife tucked under the driver's seat. Air caught in her lungs. Heart sped up in her chest. She’d gut the tracker if need be. It wasn’t the first time, and she was sure it wouldn’t be the last. She sucked in a breath, slid the knife out from under the seat, ready to go to blows, and a body slammed into hers. The air whooshed out of her lungs with a burn. She didn’t let it stop her from slashing once, twice, satisfaction blooming hot when the blade met flesh and the man hissed.

  “Little bitch,” he snarled.

  She twisted around, swinging the blade in his direction, but the driver door slammed against her shoulder. Throbbing pain shot down her arm and she cried out. The knife knocked free from her grip, clanging against the concrete.

  A rough hand gripped to her arm, and a body slammed against hers into the side of the truck with another pain rocketing up her backside with a whimper.

  The man chuckled. “I heard you had more fight.”

  “I can pay you double to walk away.”

  She could pay him triple if it’s what it took.

  “Appealing, but I’d rather be in the good graces—”

  Another body tackled the man, but it didn’t loosen his grip and she hit the hard ground before he let go. A tearing agony rocked through her shoulder with the jolt, but she scrambled back across the ground. When her eyes adjusted, she fell back wide eyed. The man who tackled them straddled the tracker with his hands around the man’s throat.

  “Now I paid you a hell of a lot of money to stay away from the princess.” A familiar blue glow lit up in Ramsey’s eyes. “You remember, right? Thirty grand, wasn’t it?

  Son of a bitch hired a cat to find Jules.

  Ramsey growled. “Losing my patience, Cash. What happened? You get greedy?”

  The man struggled, squirmed, and wiggled to get free, scraping and pulling at the grip to his throat.

  “My bad, let me just loosen up a little. Come now, what gives?” Ramsey demanded.

  “You just wanted the hybrid mutt. You got her. The princess was fair game.”

  Another growl rumbled through Ramsey’s chest.

  “That was not the arrangement. I told you to take the money and leave her alone. What part didn’t you understand? I thought the money spoke plenty.”

  “Markus King is paying triple—”

  Ramsey punched him. “She isn’t goddamn cattle up for auction.”

  Her stomach rolled as the porch light flickered on and the front door flung open.

  “Damn it,” He gave Riley a frustrated glance. “What the hell were you doing, anyway?”