Page 2 of Blood of Vengeance

“He’s not exactly the most stable man in the world.”

“No, but he answers your calls, doesn’t he?”

Always. Even if he was busy, he would at least send me a text to let me know when he would call me back. He hadn’t wanted me to stay in Mesa, but he hadn’t kicked me out of his life. Just his town and his shifter world.

“Can you call the club?”

The motorcycle club he ran. The one filled with other wolf shifters like him. The one I had never been allowed to be involved with. “I already did.”

Zella turned, one delicate black eyebrow raised. “And?”

“No dice. They won’t return my messages.”

“Damn.” She rinsed off our plates and set them in the sink, wiping her hands on a hand towel that read “Don’t Be a Cuntosaurus Rex” above a drawing of a rainbow-colored dinosaur, before turning my way once more. “So, what’s the plan?”

“I wait…it’s the only thing I can do.”

She didn’t look convinced, but she also didn’t know the whole story. Couldn’t. I loved Zella like a sister, but my dad’s life had to be off-limits. His secret was not mine to tell.

“Okay, then,” Zella said, clapping her hands once and sighing. “I need to get this ass of mine to work, and you look ready to pass out.”

“Yeah. Sleep has been…difficult.”

“Those duffel bags under your eyes make that more than obvious.” She grabbed her work bag from the floor and her coat from the rack, wincing as she shrugged into the calf-length black puffy thing that seemed to be a uniform of urban Midwesterners in winter. “Get some sleep. We can try to call your dad again once I get home. I’ll bring wine.”

“Perfect.” I rose to my feet and stretched, yawning loudly. “Have a great day. Don’t kill anyone with paperwork.”

“I make no promises.” With that, Zella swept into the hall and closed the door behind her, leaving me to myself for the day. I quickly cleaned up the mess from our dinner/breakfast and double-checked all the locks, craving the dark of my room and the softness of my bed.

But first…

With more than a little trepidation in my bones, I pulled my phone from my pocket. It was early in Mesa…or late, really. Two thirty in the morning would be late for my dad. He wouldn’t be sleeping, though. The lifestyle he lived made him a bit of a night owl. Holding my breath, I scrolled through my contacts to his name and pressed the green button to connect. Hoping against hope to hear the deep rumble of his voice.

The line never even rang—just went straight to voice mail.

“You’ve reached Chiggy. Tell me what I need to know.”

I sighed again, half tempted to throw the phone across the room, but biting back my ire and hitting the end button instead.

“Where are you, Dad?”

I didn’t receive an answer, so I headed for the bathroom to get ready for bed, then curled up under my blanket and stared at my silent phone until sleep finally took me.

The dream came quickly—the desert, the sound of motorcycles in the distance, the wolf howls ringing through the night air. The acrid smell of land scorched by the sun, highlighted by a slight floral note I recognized but couldn’t name. An intensifying sense of dread and an eerie feeling of being watched that blanketed me as the valley came into full view. As the dream showed me her truth. All the other times I’d witnessed the scene before me, my dad had been standing in front of his truck, backlit by the headlights, my placement all wrong to spot details. I’d never even seen his face, but I’d known it was him. Had recognized the shape of him.

This time, I had been dropped in a different spot. This time, I saw his face.

“You’re making a mistake,” my dad called out, looking fierce and ready to fight even as he put his hands on his head. “My brothers won’t let you get away with this.”

A laugh came from behind him, from a pocket of shadows I couldn’t see into because of the brightness of the headlights. I didn’t need to see to feel the menace in the air, though. The malevolence. I stared at my dad, my heart racing and my stomach churning. Terrified for him. Knowing what was coming without ever having seen it.

“Daddy,” I whispered, unable to hold my tongue. His head jerked up, his eyes meeting mine for just a moment. A look of shock rolled across his aged face, as if he hadn’t expected to see me. That expression quickly turned to one of fear. Something I had never seen him wear.

“Locklyn.” My name came from behind my dad, came from the deepest, darkest shadows. Came from where the energy had turned cold and hard and dangerous. From a voice I had never heard before and said in a way that sounded like a threat. Like a challenge.

And then a gun fired.

I woke with a start, screaming into the dark room. Wanting to go back, to travel through space and time so I could do something to stop whatever had just happened. Without thought, I grabbed my phone and scrolled to my dad’s name. Chanting prayers and wishing for miracles as the line connected.

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