Once Lost Lords (Royal Scales, Book 1) (5 page)

Other crowds had someone who seemed too quick, a bit jumpy. Frat
groups always had one dumb human mixed in who would take the dive as
soon as he had money and the right friends. People grew up watching
for signs. The likelihood of a childhood friend going furry in high
school was often tied to how bad the kid got picked on. Shifting
never solved anything. Bottom rung in human relations, bottom rung in
the pack. Changing races wasn’t a cure for a submissive
personality.

A lot revolved around their family. Most wolves were male since
females rarely scored high marks after the transition. Being
permanently unable to bear children turned most women away. With all
the regulations in place, women were forced to face facts before
signing on the dotted line.

Tonight a full blown wolf tried walking into the bar on all fours.
Between the lack of a collar and the way he eyed everyone’s
faces instead of their bodies it was clear, there was a human mind in
there.

He had been keeping pace next to a few girls who might have been
minors yesterday. Their chattering continued unabated as they
approached Julianne’s. We weren’t the first bar they
stopped at. I looked at each ID. Sensitive fingers ran over the
continental seal which displayed the North Americas. The pictures on
these cards matched their owners.

Finally, I looked at the wolf for a moment, careful with my eye
contact. Leveling it, getting his attention. Keeping eye contact
would ensure he regarded me as a potential equal. I just had to speak
quick, before the little voice in the back of their heads yelled
attack. Julianne had given me a rundown on how to interact with a
wolf years ago.

“Gotta lose the fur.” I said.

He looked at me, then back at the girls for a moment. My gut said
this wolf was escorting one of the girls. His wolf looked young, not
puppy young, but certainly not a grizzled adult.

A very slight whimper let me know the problem here.

I sighed and stepped into the doorway for a moment to grab a standard
care package. One cheap white shirt, long pants, and a belt. All
donations from our local pack. Julianne actually went so far as to
wash and vacuum seal them in so they didn’t get an outside
smell on them.

“Lucky you. Change in here.” I opened an inconspicuous
door on my left and let him pad inside.

Julianne had converted the front closet into a changing room. This
way they could avoid walking through the bar. Drunks and an
abnormally large wolf did not mix. Shoes were optional. Shirts were
not. Moments later a barefoot twenty-something male stepped out.

“Told you the wolf was a bad idea, Amanda.” First thing
out of his mouth was a complaint. His shoulders twitched while trying
to relax. The kid had to be a six or seven on his rehabilitation. Any
lower and he would start snarling this soon after a shift.

“Daddy made me take you, and this is a girl’s night, so
you can yell at him.” One of the giggling squad looked ready to
throw a fit.

“Ladies, in or out.” I put myself between their
squabbles. The small squad huffed in unison before going inside.

“Thanks for the spare.” The male looked tired of his
escort duties. His hair was short, cropped black, with deeply tanned
skin. With those looks, he might actually find a good time inside if
he loosened up. Only watered down drinks, though, wolves aren’t
allowed the heavy stuff in public.

“Enjoy your night.” My normal friendly smile was kept
well under control. I found out years ago that something about my
teeth drove even the most domesticated wolf to aggression.

Julianne’s bar was one among a string that catered to all
races. Accordingly this entire portion of road usually warranted a
patrol car or two on heavy nights. They didn’t pay attention to
a man like myself, I clearly served a helpful purpose.

“Chicka says head on in and do the rounds.” The voice
came from behind me. He was a short Hispanic who migrated from the
Central Sector with his family. The man was also a wolf who belonged
to one of three packs in our region. He came out because another wolf
had gone in.

I nodded and went inside.

The crowd was fairly mixed. Some people were riveted to television
screens displaying interracial soccer. Other screens had football
reruns or politics. This city was a busy coastal metropolis with
having two major colleges and all the sports teams. Our baseball
players were doing terrible this year.

A turn in the room later and I was face to face with Kahina’s
features. Her eyes stared without blinking into mine. She wanted my
attention, but her lips weren’t working. The black and violet
clothes wrapping her body lit up all the right places. I had to fight
the old reaction to kiss her.

She still wasn’t talking. Her face held that excited or
possibly angry tint that I never could sort out. The way she teetered
between smiling or scowling made both reddened lips quiver slightly.

“Hello, Kahina.” I dared speak first.

Her unwavering stare continued. Kahina’s brain must be going a
mile a minute trying to figure out what to do with me. Hopefully, it
wouldn’t involve leveling those arms in my direction. Or
throwing me outside.

“Alright, I’ve got work.” I tried to step around
and she sidestepped with me. Another sidestep resulted in us doing an
awkward dance.

“Little help, Julianne?” I leaned to one side while
shouting around the black woman’s shoulder.

“Kahina, either drag him to bed or let the man work.” She
shouted back. Leave it to Julianne to watch the entire thing.

Kahina’s attention shattered and she turned towards the bar
with a hiss. Not one word had been uttered towards me. Heels clicked
as my ex charged to the bar. The sight of Kahina’s tall black
form near Julianne’s shorter one gave an odd impression that
normal was the wrong size to be.

“You didn’t tell me he tasted different!” I could
make out her angry tone over the music easily.

“You didn’t ask-” Her words trailed off as their
volume lowered. “-and how should I know what he tastes like?
It’s not like I licked his face when he came back.” Part
of me considered eavesdropping and seeing where the conversation
went. The other part of me figured distance was safer than risking
her circular thinking.

A couple laps through and I picked a corner to settle in. The crowd
tonight wasn’t as wired as some I had been in. Hell, Julianne
had thrown me out of this same location once or twice in the year’s
past. Not that I didn’t deserve it, I think, I had been pretty
drunk.

One of the waitresses handed me a platter with a hamburger on it. It
was hard to make anything out about her beyond a set of shadowed eyes
peering out of a face surrounded by pitch black hair.

“Must be strange working here again,” The raven haired
female shook her head. “Amazing how things come full circle.”

“Your point?” I asked.

“Nothing. The miss wanted you to take a break then finish up
out front. We’re closing down at midnight.” The waitress
cocked her head at a weird angle to look at me, then she swiveled her
head towards Kahina at the bar.

I grunted.

“She looked mad.” She was questioning, probing for
details.

“Or excited.” I muttered.

“Be careful tonight, doubt she’s the kind to get over a
breakup like that.” I couldn’t remember the waitress’
name, but she seemed familiar. We must have known each other from
before my wanderings.

I devoured my food and headed back out front. From just inside the
doorway I could soak up the heat and still keep an eye on both
directions. Occasionally I would glance towards the bar. Each time
Kahina was easily visible, talking to Julianne, or on a phone.

By shift end, I wanted nothing more than to collapse at home. My head
felt heavy while both legs slowly dragged their cargo across the
parking lot. As a former enforcer, my constitution was good by
necessity, but exhaustion always caught up.

My life had existed on the shady side of the world for almost two
decades. Experience had taught all about watching for warning signs.
Tonight I’d been on guard for clues, the way someone moved
their legs. Shifting weight, heavy staring over glasses. People
shaking hands, smiling, facial ticks, how many drinks someone had.
All of those things were details I’d sorted through in order to
protect Julianne’s place.

There were warnings now too, even after shift. The stillness hanging
about. Dark patches that didn’t mesh with the night. Both were
warning signs of a sort. The real kicker was me disbelieving that
dealing with Kahina was that easy.

With a small sigh, I sat down, picking the most convenient car hood
under a street light. One finger scratched at my disfigured nose. Now
it was a matter of waiting to see what showed up. If Kahina had
something to say it needed to be before I got to my sanctuary. There
was no one else that would be after me. Not after four years of
absence on my part.

The stillness went on. I strained my hearing for additional clues. A
wolf would do better. My tricks were of a different nature. Being
between home and the bar would help. A method I had, that operated a
lot like the tracking, was necessary at this point.

Calling on these abilities had been difficult over the last four
years. Like the tracking, this was a matter of focusing on a belief.
A mindset that brought everything to the fore.

This was my area. Mine. My home, my sidewalk, my work.

It had been so long since the last time. Years without so much a
peep. The heady rush of my thoughts shifting. A mental switch turning
everything upside down. A claim of ownership that required defending
that which was mine. This ability allowed me to go toe to toe with
wolves over debts.

The response was similar to tracking Kahina’s lock of hair.
Tactile sensations fed it from everything around me. A low hum grew
in the back of my mind.

Dense rubber presses against firmer asphalt. Tainted air swirls
through the parking lot. Laden with cigarette smoke and exhaust.
Streetlights barely warm the sidewalk below. Figures in darkness
displace air. Not breathing. Not moving. Silent. Small heat, scarcely
human.

It was a tiny sense of omnipresence that almost felt like seeing the
world in daylight once my mind settled. There was someone nearby, and
it wasn’t mental paranoia. They were a few steps away from
Vampire. These partials would only lack a fraction of the speed and
power the fully converted received.

Two were staring absently. Almost bored. The third looked right at
me. Female, all the curves I’d known far too well. Kahina.

Her jaw smooth, firm. Eyelashes slowly bat. Orbs curving betray
where she looks. Towards me. Clothes absorb light. No reflections.

If anyone says that vampires dress in all black because of their
affiliation with the night, it’s a lie. They dress in black
because it makes blending in and urban hunting easier. Hunting was
theoretically outlawed, and to the public eye it was only rare
abominations. Fully turned vampires tended to police their own rather
thoroughly.

No matter what happened, I’d survive.

She was still again, trapped in a motionless circle of thought. The
other two weren’t frozen. They looked around, slowly, taking in
the sights, planning routes, looking for weakness. Gazes I knew.

Fingers curled through modified knuckles in my pocket. Crosses on top
would have been helpful. Then a vampire would be twice as afraid of
being punched in the face. Silver warped too easily. Even the cross
under my shirt was a frail thing. The symbol wasn’t for
physical strength. It would induce mental terror on those affected by
the vampire condition. Going for it now would be a gamble.

I tried not to shake from the midnight chill. Only focusing on the
right thoughts would save me when things turned sour. The belief of
ownership, protecting what was mine, fighting off these invaders.
Apprehension, self-pity, doubt, they would ruin me.

Air combs through fine hairs on skin. Her head jerks abruptly.
Other two ticks move in unison. Forward. Towards me. Speeding.
Quickness cuts the air. I stir to action.

One leg pushed off the car’s hood. An arm shot forward,
bringing my knuckle covered fist out. It jabbed into one charging
vampire’s path, predicting where he’d be flitting to. My
punch and his running one hundred feet took the same amount of time.
Fighting a vampire, even a partial, required being one step ahead.
They only moved fast, rarely changing course.

The impact of a high moving sack of flesh colliding with my extended
arm jarred my teeth. There was a crunch of bone that didn’t
hurt enough to be anything of mine snapping, thankfully. My other
hand was busy sliding the cross up and out resulting in a soft
crimson light spreading in front of me.

Just after the punch the second vampire landed on my back and whaled
on the arm holding the cross. Whatever he hit numbed me from the
shoulder down making me drop the symbol. It dangled in front where
the second vampire couldn’t see.

No line of sight meant no paralyzation.

The vampire’s scrawny form held an unfair level of strength and
he quickly wove his arms through mine in a grapple. He pinched my
arms together then pressed reedy fingers into shoulders. Muscles
strained, trying to get an arm back into its normal position. The
other arm was still numb and might be out of the socket.

I tried to shake his smaller form off. Maybe in the old days, before
I’d left years ago, this would have been a lot easier. Four
years of laziness meant I couldn’t even handle a second vampire
before the first one stood up. His jaw was almost healed from where
it had snapped.

Both feet strained to push us as high as I could. Twisting myself
right and falling backward got the cross right in number two’s
face. Even without touching the symbol it would send jolts of panic
through him. Being a partial change meant he still had some sanity,
enough to release his hold and bend both legs under me then extended
rapidly.