Page 44 of Wulf's Pack
Skylar shakes her head. “They won’t serve shifters.”
Bree and I both frown. Skylar shrugs. “It’s been eight years since I left, but I doubt that much has changed. It’s like you said, the races here don’t mix like they do in Detroit. Samuel’s clan is very elitist and has a special loathing of shifters specifically. I’m surprised they haven’t approached us already for being on their turf.”
“Curiosity.” A male vampire exits the restaurant, appraising us and clearly finding us lacking. “What are three shifters doing on the doorstep of the largest vampire clan in the West? You’re either very brave, or very stupid.”
We’re probably both. Bree and I flank Skylar, and Bree moves her hand to her hip where I know she has an ash wood stake fastened to her belt. It’s the only weapon other than decapitation or fire that will do the job. It’s definitely the cleanest.
This vampire was most likely turned in his mid-twenties, but there’s no telling how old he is. I doubt he’s more than a hundred, though. The older vampires are less cocky. They don’t have to posture to strike fear into those around them; they’re too powerful to be anything but frightening.
This guy doesn’t look like what I imagined we’d find here. Which, I’ll admit was very stereotypical mobsters with the fine Italian suits and Fedoras with Tommy guns in their hands. This man looks more like a hipster in skinny jeans and white sneakers with a plaid button-up shirt, sleeves rolled up the forearms and tattoos peeking out. His dark hair is styled, and he’s got a short, well-groomed beard. All he needs is a pair of black-rimmed glasses and a beret, and he could do slam poetry in some high-priced coffeehouse.
Skylar squeezes my hand in a bone-crushing grip, but she pulls in a deep breath and lifts her chin. “We’re here to see Samuel.”
The man looks down his nose at us and smirks. “Why would the master of Denver lower himself to speak with three random mongrels?”
Asshole. Douchebag. I could rip this joker to threads with my eyes closed.
Skylar’s jaw clenches. “Tell him Skylar is here to see him.”
The vampire’s eyes flash with surprise, then narrow on my mate. A slow, lecherous grin spreads across his face. “Well, well, well. The little bitch is all grown up. Have to say, I thought you’d be hotter.”
I growl. I shouldn’t let him rile me, but I can’t stop myself. Skylar squeezes my hand again, this time in warning. I’m grateful for her calming influence. I might need her to get through this night without losing my temper and getting us all killed. “We want to see Samuel,” she says more forcefully.
The man smirks. “Aw, did the pup find her bark?”
His condescension is impressive. I grind my teeth so hard I’m surprised they don’t turn to dust. Skylar tenses beside me, but doesn’t back down. “Send us away, and Samuel will kill you when he finds out.”
The vampire’s eyes flash red with anger, but Skylar must be right, because he hisses and stomps down the sidewalk. He leads us to a grand lobby next door to the restaurant. It’s all marble floors and gilded mirrors, with two large chandeliers hanging from a tall ceiling. On the right is a desk with a security guard sitting behind it, and on the left is a group of couches and chairs. In the back of the lobby is a bank of elevators. The vampire whirls around the second we’re inside. “Wait here.”
He storms over to the security guard and whispers in hushed tones that Skylar is demanding to see Samuel. When he says Skylar’s name, the security guard’s head snaps our direction. His eyes turn red, a sign that the vampire is angry, excited, or hungry. I don’t like any of those options.
Skylar shrinks into my side.
The security guard makes a phone call, tells whoever it is that Skylar is here to see the boss, and quickly hangs up. A minute later, a man exits one of the elevators. He’s big. Probably close to Carl’s size. Not that a vampire needs muscles to be strong. They have ridiculous supernatural strength and speed. It makes themdifficult opponents. It’s usually their arrogance that brings them down in a fight. I doubt this man would make cocky mistakes. He’s old. Really old. He reeks of power. My wolf surges to the front of my mind, responding to the threat in front of us.
Skylar’s pulse explodes in her chest, and her breath hitches. Where she wasn’t very afraid of the young one, she’s terrified of this new guy. She starts to shake ever so slightly against my side. I resist the urge to pull her protectively to me. She needs to be strong right now.
The man’s gaze sweeps over me and Bree quickly, before settling hungrily on Skylar. “Hello, Felix,” she says. Her voice shakes with fear.
He grins. “You should have stayed away, little pet. Samuel’s not likely to let you leave again.”
I don’t like the nickname. It’s too familiar. And it’s not said with the same condescension the first guy used. This is much more subtle. It sounds confident. Like ownership. This man has given Skylar very personal reasons to fear him. I want to kill him. How the hell am I going to make it through this?
I squeeze Skylar’s hand, letting her know I’m here and that I’ll fight with her to the end if necessary. I trust her, though. It won’t come to that. She pulls a big breath into her lungs and swallows. “I’ll take my chances,” she says.
The vampire’s lips twitch into a barely there, amused smile. He gives her a slight nod and leads us to the elevators.
The ride up to the penthouse floor is silent. Tension is thick, and my wolf is on edge. Felix won’t stop staring at Skylar. I let loose a soft warning growl, and he drags his eyes away from Skylar to narrow them at me. “I’d be careful, wolf. You’re not likely to survive this night as it is.”
The hair on my neck stands up at the threat, and Bree hisses. Skylar swamps the elevator with her calming pheromones. It happens so fast it’s a shock to my system, but I let it wrap meup, and Bree rolls her shoulders as if to loosen them. I’ve got my temper under control enough to get my head back in the game just as the elevator doors slide open and the master vampire of Denver greets us with a wide smile and open arms. “The prodigal wolf returns home at last.”
Chapter
Fourteen
Samuel Osborne is the rich playboy type. He’s dressed in dark designer jeans and a black silk shirt open at the neck and tight around the biceps. His shoes are shiny, his skin is tanned, his watch is diamond-faced, and he has a small platinum cross necklace that I’m sure he finds ironic. His light brown hair is styled in a classic short crop with clean, faded sides, and a smooth-shaven jaw. He looks expensive.
He appears laid back and charming. It’s hard to find this man threatening, though I suppose that’s the point. Use your charisma to lure in your prey and strike before they even know they’re in trouble. I have no doubt this man is very capable of tearing me apart. Masters are the most dangerous of all vampires, and the larger the clan, the stronger the master. Denver is not a small clan.
