Some Lycan Hot: Chapter 2

Alaya stared at him, heart thumping in her chest.

He smiled. Danced. Waited.

Alaya followed his movements effortlessly. She’d known him her whole life, him and his brothers. She knew Darrius nearly as well as her own calling. She was destined to be a priestess. Her gift had been bestowed by the Goddess to help the lycanthropes—no matter what form they took—find peace with each other.  

“Your happiness is my happiness,” said Darrius. “If serving the Goddess is what your heart wants, how can I want any less for you?” 

“But the throne…” 

“Will never be mine. I was third born. If I were to follow the destiny of the youngest brother, I would end up serving the goddess as well. I much prefer marrying a beautiful priestess than entering into the priesthood. Those guys never have any fun.” 

“Your brothers would no more turn you out than … than … the moon is made of cheese,” she said, laughing. Then she met his gaze and said, “Yes. Yes, I will marry you.” 

Darrius shouted, gripping her waist and swinging her around and around. “This woman will be my wife!” he yelled. And then he kissed her, deeply, without regard to who watched, and melted her to her very toes.  

“Are you ready, Nefertiti?” 

The caramel-skinned beauty shoved a silver blade into the sheath on her hip. “Yes, my lord.” 

Koschei smiled. World War II had offered him an unexpected boon. The ruler of Germany’s fascination with werewolves and his obsession with power had created an opportunity.

With the lycanthropes creating a singular pack, even to include the Roma, they were powerful. Already allies to the Ancients and to Ruadan’s tired refrain of peace and education to benefit all, it would be a blow to vampires as well. The most scattered and less focused everyone became, the easier it would be for Koschei to take their power. 

He’d been disappointed when his daughter refused to participate. She was the only light in his life, the only reminder left of the man he’d once been. He had sensed the distance growing between them, and knew there would come a time he could no longer ignore her disobedience to his wishes.  

“Koschei?” 

He shook off his thoughts and turned to the woman who’d been so useful to him. He knew Nerfertiti was attracted to his power, and she even hoped to mate with him.  

He tried not to laugh in her face. She was a valuable component of his plan, hell with her weapons, and often used her considerable feminine wiles to get the job done.  

“We will wait just a little longer,” he said, stroking his supplicant’s pretty face. 

“Let me drink their beer and celebrate their moon goddess. You know who you must get to first?” 

“Anna,” she said. “The Roma wife to the Crown Prince.” She smiled. “And we will be paid for our services?” 

“Oh, yes. Lots of money. You will get many baubles, I promise.” 

Her eyes flared with greed, an emotion Koschei knew well. But patience had always ruled him. And it would serve him now.  They only needed to wait a little while longer…

“Koshei,” said Damian. “You honor us.”

The Ancient vampire nodded. His smile was too thin to be friendly. Damian didn’t take offense. That had always been the Russian vampire’s way.  

“I couldn’t resist visiting your new village,” said Koschei. “Ruadan is very impressed with your efforts to create a pack with the Roma.” 

“We are all the children of the Moon Goddess,” said Damian. He picked up the mug of beer from the table crammed with every type of lager available. The music played—happy tunes that encouraged dancing and laughter.

He didn't offer the vampire any food or drink. What would be the point? The only nourishment vampires sought was blood. Though there had long been a pact between the Ancients and the lycans that forbid vampires to imbibe on werewolf blood, he didn’t want to issue an invitation Koschei might misconstrue.  

“It is the Moon Goddess Festival tonight?” asked Koschei looking around with interest.

Damian nodded, recalling Alaya’s warning about blood on the moon. Was it a coincidence that Koschei had picked tonight to visit? Damian looked up at the bright, full moon. Was it just his imagination or was there a red edge around its white glow?  

“How is your wife?” asked Koschei. “The babies are well?” 

“She’s wonderful, and so are the babes.” Not even the vampire’s dour manner could erase Damian’s grin. “In fact, I should get back to my wife. We will talk later, old friend.” 

Koschei nodded. “Of course.” 

Damian drained the beer and put the empty mug onto the table. Foreboding pitted his belly. He didn’t know if it was Alaya’s warning, or Koschei’s cold presence, but he’d be a fool to ignore his instincts.

Why hadn’t he listened to Alaya? At least he could’ve seen his wife to safety, and warned his men to be prepared.  

Damian stopped at the circle of dancers, looking for his wife, who’d been swept off by Reiner. He worried about how tired she’d be, and if her feet were hurting. She was strong, but still … the next generation of their kind lived in her womb.  

He couldn’t fail her. Or his pack. Or their plan to unite all werewolves.

He stepped through a gap in the twirling people, his gaze bouncing from man to man, trying to find the blonde head of his friend. Reiner was tall, much taller than Anna, and easier to find.  Damian felt his chest get tighter and tighter, and had unsnapped his pistol before he could determine the source of his worry. 

Then the world exploded.  

The music and laughter just seconds before gave way screams and weapons firing.  

“Anna!” Damian held on to his gun and wound through the terrified crowd. Even as he looked for his wife, he noted his warriors getting the injured and the children to safety. Others were fighting, but Damian couldn’t determine the enemy.  

He saw Alaya fighting, using the blades that she’d been training with since she was young. Smoke rolled over the melee. His gaze caught Koschei by the beer table, which had been overturned. The fermented smell of the beer mixed with ashy air. The Ancient was using his strong telepathic powers to drive off attackers.  

More smoke filled the air, and flames flickered in the distance. Houses were on fire.

As he ran toward his own home at the edge of the square, he saw the fires reach the pines. Damn it.  

"Damian!” He stopped and turned. Reiner, smoke stained and bloodied, ran toward him. “We’re taking the children to the secure location.” 

“Thank you.” Damian clapped him on the shoulder. “Is Anna with them?” 

Reiner shook his head. “Lettie saw her go toward your house.” 

“I’ll meet you in the woods,” said Damian. He unholstered his gun and ran toward his home. The minute he opened the front door, he knew something was wrong. 

“Anna!” Dread poured through him. Why had she returned here?  

Damian reached the bedroom and found his wife lying on the floor. Blood soaked the carpet, her clothes, her silken hair. She clutched a cloth bag that held the baby clothes she’d been making.

One of their attackers must’ve followed her.  

“No,” he sobbed. “No. Please.”  

Anna’s clothes were tattered. Her throat slashed … and ...