Entranced (2 page)

A slow exhale eases from my lips as I unstiffen.

I check the time on my phone. Almost midnight.

“Shit.” I hurry out of the bathroom a little too fast and end up crashing into someone.

“Watch it,” a guy snaps as I trip backward from the impact and bash my elbow against the wall.

Classy spazz move, Alana. You’re going to give away that you’re a clumsy human.

The scents of cologne, soap, and something woodsy flood my nostrils as I regain my footing. I know that scent. This dude is a werewolf.

Despite the angry scowl he’s sporting, I admit the guy is sort of cute. Okay, maybe more like freakin’ hot. He’s maybe a couple of years older than me, tall, with light brown hair styled in a messy fauxhawk. Intricate tattoos wind around his lean arms and up his neck, and he has the craziest, most intense silver eyes I’ve ever seen. Although, the shade does seem oddly out of place, considering silver is a werewolf’s kryptonite and most have brownish gold or bright yellow eyes.

Werewolf dude glares at me. “Do the world a favor and learn how to walk.”

Okay. He
so
just lost a few sexy points for that remark.

“Sorry.” My voice drips with sugary sweetness. “I’ve tried a ton of times to get my how-to-walk learner’s permit, but the instructor always fails me because I keep crashing into brooding guys who never seem to know how to watch where
they’re
walking. It’s a curse. Seriously.”

He stares at me, unimpressed, with his arms folded. “I’m not brooding; I’m just in a hurry.”

I gesture for him to get a move on. “Well, then you should probably get going instead of wasting time insulting my walking incompetence.” When he continues to stare me down, I put my hands on my hips and arch my brows at him. “What? Never had anyone call you out before?”

“No, but normally I make them shut hell up.” His gaze drops to the markings on my arm, and then his head cocks to the side. “I’m just trying to decide if I want to shut you the hell up.”

I keep a calm expression, but I’m a little frazzled on the inside. He glanced at the Mark of Immortality. Can he tell it’s fake?

I shove the thought from my head. No, if he knew I was human, he probably would’ve killed me already. Not all werewolves are completely bad, especially in human form, but werewolves who hang out at places like the Black Dungeon are usually looking for trouble.

“What? Cat got your tongue?” he questions with a smirk. “Or should I say wolf?”

I roll my eyes. “That was super cheesy. Seriously, dude, does that ever work on anyone?”

His smirk broadens. “It got you flustered, didn’t it?”

I roll my eyes again. “Well, it’s been a real pleasure running into you, but I’ve got other broody guys to run into.”

I start to walk away, waggling my fingers at him, but his fingers wrap around my arm. Moments later, his breath dusts the back of my neck.

“Don’t do it,” he whispers in a low tone that carries a warning. “You’ll end up getting killed.”

“I’m not doing anything except trying to get away from you.” I try to slip my arm from his hold, but he tightens his grip. A shallow breath escapes my lips. “Let. Me. Go.”

“Stay away from Anastasiya, Alana”—his voice is one step away from a growl—“because, if you get in my way, I’ll have no choice but to kill you, which would be a real waste considering you’re the first person I ever let walk away from me unscratched after calling me a cocky asshole.” With a brush of his fingers across the back of my neck, he mutters, “Interesting,” then moves away from me.

I spin around with my hand cupped over the back of my neck.

“Don’t look so worried.” He backs down the hallway in the opposite direction of the dance floor, stuffing his hands into the pocket of his black cargo pants. “I promise you and I’ll run into each other again very soon. I just hope by then you’ve learned how to walk better.” With that, he turns around and pushes out the Do Not Enter door at the end of the hallway.

I stare at the door with my jaw hanging to my knees and a thousand questions racing through my mind. What the hell just happened? How the hell does he know what I’m plotting tonight? Better yet, how the hell does he know we’re going to meet again?

By the time I make it to the bar, a handful of Keepers have arrived. They aren’t near each other to keep under the radar—some are on the dance floor, others near the serving table.

Jayse is chatting with the bartender when I approach him. He seems cheerier than when I last saw him, laughing at something the woman behind the counter says. She looks a few years older than him with flowing red hair. From the way he keeps throwing her charming smiles, I can tell he’s flirting with her.

Usually, I’d tease the crap out of him, but I’m too worried about Wolf Guy.

When Jayse catches sight of me, his expression sinks. “What happened?” He examines my face. “You look pale? Are you getting a fever?” He places his palm to my forehead.

I dip my head away from his hand. “Stop being a weirdo,” I hiss under my breath as I worriedly peer around the club. “We’re being watched.” I slump onto a barstool.

“By who?” He sits back down, still watching me as if I’m made of cracking glass.

I slant forward in the chair. “I ran into a werewolf in the hallway. Somehow, he knows why I came here tonight.”

He jerks back, his eyes flooding with panic. “I need to warn everyone.”

“Jayse, I don’t think—”

He’s already hurrying off toward a group of Keepers on the dance floor.

Sighing, I get up to warn the Keepers lounging around in the serving area.

Tonight turned into a disaster. I left my house with such high hopes that I could pull off some badassary and prove I’m a warrior, even without the mark, but all I managed to do was get everyone into a sketchy situation.

I warn the Keepers to bail out, and they seem super irritated with me.

“Stupid girl needs to stay out of our business,” one of them says, glaring at me. “You’re not a Keeper just because your parents are. Are you trying to get people killed?”

When the other two nod in agreement, my muscles wind into knots. I’m fuming mad. But under the anger, I feel embarrassed because I know everything they’re saying is true.

Unable to stand and endure the scrutiny any longer, I turn around and push my way to the exit of the club

After I make it outside, I wait for Jayse in the alleyway in front of the entrance. The full moon shimmers brightly in the dark sky and the air is still except for the faint sounds of cars driving up and down the nearby road. While I’m used to being alone in strange, creepy places, the werewolf’s words haunt my mind.

Werewolves aren’t known for having mind reading skills. That trait usually applies to witches and foreseers. So how did he know what I was up to? He could’ve overheard me when I was talking to Jayse, but I don’t recall seeing him anywhere near the dance floor.

A scream abruptly cuts through the air, tearing through my thoughts. My gaze darts upward just in time to see a figure tumbling down from the roof.

I skitter across the alley to the other side, barely making it out of the way before the body hits the ground right where I was standing only seconds ago.

“Holy shit,” I breathe as I stare at the unmoving body.

Drawing my knife from my boots, I dare an inch or two closer, trying to see who or what it is.

They’re facedown, blood pooling around their head, and the long, brown hair splayed across the ground has me guessing it’s a woman.

Sucking in a breath, I crouch down to get a better look. I’ve seen dead bodies before, but never one this mangled: skin torn up, gaping holes in her stomach, as if someone took a giant bite out of her. I feel a sick to my stomach. Still, I find myself wanting to examine her more closely, try to figure out what happened. The fall definitely isn’t what killed her, and the injuries had to be done to her beforehand.

I carefully roll her over onto her back then gasp.
Anastasiya
. “Holy shit!”

What the hell? Did one of the Keepers go through with the plan? No, if they’d staked her, she’d have turned to ash. The cause of death … It has to be the claw and bite marks, which can only mean one thing.

A howl from above rings through the air, confirming my suspicion. I step away from the dead vampire and look up at the roof where glowing, silver eyes stare through the darkness at me.

“I know you,” I say. “You’re the guy from inside, aren’t you?”

The wolf lets out another howl, throwing his head up at the sky, before backing away from the ledge of the roof and vanishing from sight.

“Okay, I think everyone cleared out,” Jayse announces as he exits the club. “Let’s get out …” He trails off, drifting to a stop. “What the hell …?” He shakes his head, gaping from Anastasiya to me. “Alana, what did you do?”

I pause for a microsecond, debating whether to take the credit for this. I can’t lie to Jayse without feeling guilty, though, so I decide not to try.

“I didn’t do anything,” I tell him, stealing a glance at the roof again.

He appears unconvinced. “Then how the hell did Anastasiya end up dead at your feet?”

“If I staked her then there wouldn’t be a body.”

“That’s not the only way to kill a vamp, and you know it. You could’ve poisoned her, beheaded her.” His gaze drops to the body. “Although, her head's intact.”

I sigh then give him a brief rundown of what just happened.

“So, you think it was the same wolf you ran into in the club?” Jayse asks after I’m done explaining.

I shrug, retuning my knife to my ankle sheath. “He had the same silver eyes, but he was totally rocking his hairy beast, fangs, four legs wolf suit, so I couldn’t tell for sure.”

Jayse rubs his jawline, contemplatively glancing from the roof to the woman. “I think we need to call the Guardians and have them come take a look.”

I instinctively pull a face. Guardians are investigators for murders committed in the paranormal world. They’re very analytical and always ask way too many questions. In my opinion, it’s one of the worst titles a person can get, and many Keepers would agree with me. Spending time examining dead bodies without actually fighting anything—no one is ever too thrilled to get that position. No one sane, anyway.

“You don’t know for sure if she was murdered,” I say to Jayse. “And she could’ve attacked the wolf first or he was just defending himself.”

He gives me the look he always gives me whenever I’m being difficult and he’s trying to tolerate me. “I get that no one likes the Guardians, but we need to follow protocol.”

“But you know how they are. They’ll end up questioning me until they think they’ve pried every single detail out of me, and I don’t have time for that,” I explain with a frown. “I’m supposed to go archery shooting with my grandpa in the morning. We’re having a competition, too. Winner gets a hundred bucks. I want that hundred bucks, but I’ll never be able to win if I’m so tired that I can’t keep my eyes open.”

“Alana, you know the rules. If it looks like a murder, then we have to call it in.” He retrieves his phone from his pocket to make the call.

“Fine, but just for the record, I miss the old rule-breaker Jayse,” I tell him as he paces the alley with the phone pressed to his ear.

“Yeah, but you still love me,” he replies with a grin.

I roll my eyes, not arguing, because he’s right. I’ll always love Jayse, and he’ll always be my best friend, even if I’m going to lose a hundred bucks because of him.

An arrow springs forward from my bow and smacks the target with a
thwack,
slamming too far away from the bullseye. I stifle a yawn as I lower the bow to my side, frustrated over how exhausted I am.

I was right about the Guardians. By the time I finished answering their questions, it was nearing sunrise. I probably got a total of two hours of sleep before I had to wake up to go shooting with my grandpa Lucas.

“You seem tired,” Grandpa Lucas remarks with an I’m-so-gonna-win-this-competition smile. Like me, he’s competitive, so he isn’t going easy on me just because I’m his granddaughter. “Stay out too late?”

“Like you don’t already know the answer,” I say in a teasing tone. My archery skills may suck today, but that doesn’t mean I’ve lost the ability to joke around with my grandpa, who’s one of my favorite people in the world. “I know my mom and dad told you all about my little stunt last night. You may think you were talking quietly, but my teenage hearing is way better than your old people hearing.”

He shoots me a joking scowl. “Hey, I’m not that old.” He raises the bow with an arrow loaded, shoots it straight into the center of the target, and then grins at me because he just won the competition. “And I can still kick your teenage butt at archery.”

I set my bow down, leaning it against my leg while I tug off my mesh glove. “You only won because I’m tired.”

“Whatever you need to tell yourself to make you feel better about losing,” he says as he removes his gloves.

I give him my best sad, puppy dog eyes. “Are you really going to make me give you a hundred bucks? Because it’s pretty much all the money I have.”

He raises his brows at me. “Would you make me pay you if I lost?”

I shake my head. “No way. I’m too nice.”

“You sure about that?”

“No.”

“Then don’t you think it’s fair that you pay?”

“I guess so.” I collect my bow and gloves from off the ground and head back across the field toward the three-story, stone castle that belongs to the Keepers. While I don’t call the place home, I probably spend as much time here as I do at my house.

My grandpa Lucas quietly strolls along beside me as I hike through the tall grass, past the glistening lake, and up the steep hillside. When we almost reach the heavy, wooden door of the castle, he stops me before I walk in.

“How about this,” he says, “we meet up next weekend and do double or nothing? Just keep in mind that that’s two hundred bucks you’ll owe me if you lose.”

My mood perks up. “Really?”

He nods. “But just make sure you get enough sleep. No staying out and trying to pull crazy stunts.”

I nod then throw my arms around him. “Thank you, Grandpa. You’re the best.”

“Remember that when I’m kicking your butt next weekend,” he teases, patting me on the back.

I chuckle as I step back. “In your dreams, old man.”

We continue to trash talk each other as we wander inside the castle and down the hallway toward the library where my mom and dad are more than likely working on some sort of Keeper mission. Strangely, though, they aren’t there.

We search the entire house, but not a single Keeper is around.

“That’s weird,” I say as we start back downstairs. “Did they say they were going somewhere?”

He shakes his head, puzzlement etched deep in his face. “They were actually supposed to talk to me about something when we got back. Maybe they got called out on a job, though.”

I glance at the clock on the wall. “But it’s only noon.” Usually, Keeper missions go down when the sun sets because, for some reason, most creatures seem to be nocturnal.

“I know.” His confusion deepens as he descends the stairway.

I trail after him, scratching at the back of my neck. The damn thing has been so itchy today. I’m starting to get worried something stung me last night, and that’s why I felt the burning sensation at the club.

“Grandpa, is there a creature that can sting you and make your skin itchy?” I ask as we reach the bottom of the stairs.

“There’s a ton of creatures that sting, but most are fatal.” He pauses, giving me a worried look. “Why? Did something sting you?”

I press my palm to the back of my neck. “I’m not sure. I felt this burn on the back of my neck last night, and I thought it was … well, my mark appearing. But when I checked it out, my skin was just blotchy, and now it’s really itchy. A faerie wing hit me there, but I don’t think they sting, do they?”

He shakes his head, his brows knitting. “Let me see it.”

I turn around and move my ponytail out of the way.

He’s quiet for a moment before he mutters, “Oh, no.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Well … You did get your mark.”

“I did?” I fist pump the air then hurry for the mirror.

“Gemma, wait!” my grandpa calls out.

“I just want to see it.” I stop in front of a small, oval mirror on the wall at the end of the hallway. I sweep my hair out of the way with a smile on my face. But the smile fades when I see the mark tattooed on the back of my neck.

Instead of the Keepers’ ring of fiery gold flames, dark ink forms a compass with arrows pointing out of the edge, and strange, winding symbols fill the inside.

“This can’t be right … What the hell is this?” I already know the answer, though. I just don’t want to admit it.

He offers me a remorseful look. “I’m so sorry, Alana, but I think you just became a Guardian.”