A young girl dressed in a skin-tight, brilliantly dark blue dress ran out of the club and made it down the stairs just fast enough to avoid throwing up all over the bouncer’s shoes. Rebecca briefly wondered why adults punished themselves with alcohol that way, but never having tasted it before; she really had no idea. She had friends who experimented and it seemed to her the side effects were similar to the stomach flu; why people were excited to drink themselves sick made her question those people’s motives.
The bouncer, who was dressed in black from head to toe, pressed his fingers to his ears and spoke into some sort of microphone. She would have focused her hearing to listen in, but she was sure he was simply telling someone there was a ‘clean up on aisle one’. The lady finished vomiting just as a larger-than-life biker hunk rushed to her side. He was a little late to pull her hair back, but the girl still clung to him like a life preserver in turbulent water. The guy managed to toss a weak smile over his shoulder and the second bouncer shook his head and shrugged him off with a chuckle. It seemed like a hint that he was a regular customer.
She couldn’t imagine what her mother would have wanted from this place. Perhaps the private investigator was wrong, had his facts confused. She truly hoped that was the case. “The Refuge” was a far cry from the high society parties that her parents had attended while they were alive. In fact, being seen in a place like this would have been social suicide.
Another woman, dressed in a red and white tight fitting top and blue jeans that looked like they had been painted on her body, walked past the employee who came outside to clean up the mess. She flipped her long reddish waves behind her shoulders. With a small, barely noticeable shudder she marched up the stairs and headed straight towards the swinging saloon-style double doors. The bouncers stepped in her path and became a solid wall of muscle blocking her. The larger of the two bouncers stepped forward another foot. His large black hand went up in a signal known universally as stop. The hand was larger than the lady’s head.
Despite his obvious bulk, the redhead was not letting him or anyone else intimidate her. Rebecca knew, deep down inside, she should not let anything or anyone intimidate her either. She was a wolf now; stronger, faster, and even smarter than before if one believed two minds were better than one.
Rebecca sucked in a deep breath and forced herself to take a step forward; crossing the street had never been so scary. The patrons and the ambiance of the place were not the scariest parts of this visit; it was what she could find out about her parents that scared her the most.
The young man who was helping the girl who threw up placed the sick girl into a taxi and started to head back to the front of the club. As he did, his eyes caught Rebecca’s crossing the street. Striking gold-amber eyes locked on hers and the connection was stronger than an ocean wave crashing against her body. She could almost feel the sand retreating under her feet and smell the salt on the cool breeze. The redheaded lady had been forgotten. The world seemed to crumble around Rebecca as she realized there was something that connected them, something wonderful and dangerous. She kept walking forward, oblivious to what was happening around her. Suddenly her feet actually had purpose and a desire to go somewhere, that somewhere was to him.
“Look out!” Rebecca heard him yell but didn’t understand why. Suddenly, he bolted towards her just as a horn blast broke through her determined haze. She turned and saw a truck grill only feet away from her body. To make matters worse there was no sign of the driver putting on the breaks.
They say your life passes before your eyes in the moments before you die. They lie. The mind begins to flood the body with action; the only thing that you can think of is survival. She knew it was too late to run but that didn’t stop her from trying. Only as she did, she realized her feet were no longer on the ground. The wind was knocked from her lungs. She tried desperately to find some oxygen for her body to breathe. For a brief second she wondered if the truck had hit her and she was flying through the air. It felt like she was flying but she couldn’t remember feeling any pain other than her lungs burning as they struggled for air.
As the world crashed back into Rebecca’s mind she realized she was hit by a brick wall of a man. The young biker hunk. He wrapped one arm around her waist and the other braced her head against his body as they rolled across the street out of danger from oncoming traffic. She became vaguely aware of the other people surrounding them and the cars that were stopping because of the added bodies in the street. Rebecca’s eyes locked on his golden ones which grew darker. His pupils were dilated, but around the dark center she noticed amber and specks of green. His breath was rushed and hot against her neck, tickling her ear. Wherever his skin touched hers, it sizzled causing more heat. Goosebumps covered her from head to toe. She now understood why life-threatening events are considered a breeding ground for romantic entanglements. But not all of them find success.
“Are you okay?” He asked when they stopped rolling.
Rebecca didn’t have a chance to answer him. They were instantly pulled up by the bouncers, each one helping them into a standing position. She found herself thinking there was too much space in between them. Without a word they were herded onto the sidewalk across the street from the bar so traffic could continue its merry way down the road.
“Thank…” The words were not allowed to come because her rescuer, the man who had just poured the lady into the taxi cab a few minutes ago, the same man who had risked his life to save her, began yelling at her.
“By the Gods, woman! Did no one ever teach you to look before crossing the street?” His sun kissed face was red with irritation and his golden eyes grew dark as anger and worry took hold.
“Excuse me?” If his tone and statement hadn’t made her so mad she would have felt embarrassed. Instead Rebecca’s blood began to boil.
Her wolf spoke the word 'Nephilim' in her mind as a warning, but she had no idea what that was. The only thing she could assume was that he was supernatural. 'Angel-human hybrid,' the wolf supplied, although she sounded irritated that she had to explain.
“You almost got yourself killed!” He ran a shaky hand through his blonde wavy hair that looked like golden silk. Having been in close proximity a moment ago, she knew he smelled of vanilla, cinnamon, and cloves. He reminded her of Chai tea which was one of her favorite drinks.
“And that would be a shame, little wolf. From what I hear, there are not very many of you left.” The redheaded lady tossed Rebecca an evil smile as she flung her hair behind her shoulders. For some reason, she decided that the drama playing out between Rebecca and this man was more interesting than trying to gain entrance into the sanctuary. Her milky white skin was stone pale, an obvious side effect to being a member of the walking dead family. She wore bright red lipstick and dark liner around her grey eyes making them look more eerie and lifeless if that was possible. While the rest of her was beautiful the smell of her was death. Rebecca’s senses had been assaulted by a similar smell from the vampire she saved earlier, only that vampire child smelled sour.
Rebecca covered her nose and took a step back into her rescuer’s strong arms. She decided she’d met her limit of vampires tonight. Her first thought was to ignore the redhead. It wasn’t like this was her business anyway. But instinct told her that was not going to be possible.
The hair raised on the back of Rebecca’s neck as her wolf warned, 'vampire'. The vampire took a few more steps towards her. Instinct screamed to back away but stubborn pride held her feet steady. This one was different than the last one she met. She was cold, calculating. It felt like the vampire sucked up all the oxygen around her. The ironic thing was that she didn’t need it because vampires barely breathed at all. Panic rose in Rebecca’s blood and overtook the anger she was feeling towards the woman; self-preservation took over. This woman was not hurt or fighting for her life. On the contrary, she looked like a cat playing with a mouse, and the mouse at the moment was Rebecca. The rest of the crowd seemed to drop away as the majority of her focus zeroed in on the vampire.
The man with hair spun of gold, her savior, her angry companion stepped in front of her providing a shield against the vampire. The wolf inside her snarled its disapproval of the motion, but Rebecca was not in a position to do anything about it.
“I’m sure you know nothing about that do you, Celestia?” The nephilim’s voice was smooth like satin but Rebecca heard the warning bells that were under the surface.
“Me? I’m innocent, at least of that attack.” Celestia tossed her hair behind her shoulders and Rebecca found herself wondering how the hair on a walking dead person could look so shiny and perfect. “But I cannot speak for my queen.” Celestia added.
“Of course not. You’re simply a worker bee.” The nephilim replied, sarcasm thick in each word.
Celestia snapped her fangs at the man. “Lucky, you may be a protector, but that does not keep you safe from attack. Mind your tongue or else!”
“Alright, that’s enough Celestia” The African American bouncer stated as he moved to separate her from Lucky and Rebecca. “We made it clear, until we discover who attacked the wolves you’re not allowed inside the sanctuary, and you better hope it wasn’t you or your hive.”
“You are fools; I can help you in this.” Celestia snapped. She looked Rebecca up and down, “Wolves may disgust me, but they are not worth upsetting the gods by killing off an entire pack.”
The bouncer was not listening; he continued to move her towards a waiting cab. Something told Rebecca she could have taken the bouncer easily, but Celestia allowed him to herd her towards the car.
"Killing off an entire pack?" Rebecca asked. Suddenly, she felt like she needed to catch up on some news that she had somehow missed. Blood began to race through her veins, panic started setting in. She wasn't sure if it was her or her companion wolf that had the anxious reaction. But in this moment she didn’t care, she needed to understand what Celestia was referring too.
‘What does she mean killing off an entire pack?’
‘I tried to tell you earlier but you told me to leave.’ The wolf sounded defiant.
The bouncer started to push her into the car, “Besides, we knew Tomas and his pack. With Tomas gone, a new alpha will rise. A new alpha is dangerous because he is an unknown enemy. Logically, it makes no sense for the vampires to kill off Tomas.” Celestia offered as an excuse.
“Take her home.” The bouncer growled as he slammed the door in her face.
Lucky, turned to Rebecca, determination written on his face. “You, young wolf, I’ve been looking for.” He seemed a little more cool-headed than he was a few minutes ago. "I’m the protector, Lucian La Mont, but you can call me Lucky."
“Why have you been looking for me? Is there something illegal about being a wolf, protector?” Everything was falling apart around her. She needed time to process. Rebecca took a step backwards. The vampire she would not budge for, but this nephilim was unknown to her; he could be foe or friend. "That woman said,” she took a breath and swallowed hard against a lump growing in her throat. “Did she imply that my pack was dead?" Fear gripped her. It was plain on her face. Her breathing turned shallow. .
"Here, sit down." He directed her to a bench outside the roadhouse-style restaurant/nightclub/sanctuary. His touch was surprisingly gentle for such a large man.
Rebecca followed him as her mind raced. All those messages she left, the fear she did something wrong, the vampire she had helped earlier that day. The pieces were starting to come together, filling in the empty spaces like a jigsaw puzzle, one by one locking into place.
As each piece fell into place her anger at her alter ego grew. ‘How dare you not tell me something so important?’
‘I tried but…’
‘Right. You tried. You didn’t try hard enough.’ Rebecca told her. She felt the wolf retreat into the darker shadows of her mind. Places Rebecca wouldn’t go.
"I see this news is a surprise for you." Lucky’s voice was gentle.
Rebecca laughed. It was a strange time to laugh, but his observation was ridiculous. "No not at all. It’s everyday that I hear my pack is dead." Sarcasm dripped from her words. After a moment’s pause, she shook her head. "Sorry, I know it’s not your fault. Father always said 'don't shoot the messenger, they are just doing a job'." She placed her head in her hands, covering her face as she tried to center herself. ‘Focus on your breathing, Becca.’ She repeated in her mind over and over again. Death was not new to her, but it was still upsetting. "I need to find the surviving members of the pack."
"You’re the surviving member as far as we can tell." Again his voice was gentle, she hated that voice. It was a voice that reminded her of her parents’ death. It was a voice she had heard from many other people, many times before. She wasn’t interested in hearing it from him.
Rebecca looked at him with anger. She wanted to call him a liar, but the sincerity in those magnetic gold eyes, made her anger simmer, not boil.
“I’m sorry to be the one who had to break this news to you. But there is some business that we need to discuss now that you’re the only surviving wolf on file from the Arizona pack.” His lips spread into a shaky smile as he tried to move from consoling stranger to policeman.
"Wow." She laughed at him again, it wasn’t a nice laugh. "Your eyes, your smell, your body language tell me you’re compassionate and kind, but your words tell me you’re the opposite." Rebecca shook her head, trying to contain the anger simmering under the surface. "Don't you think you could give a gal a chance to get caught up before you start questioning her as your prime suspect?"