backpacks, and head out of the room. They pause
by the professor’s desk, and he hands out papers.
I’d forgotten about the test we took last week. I
hadn’t even studied for it.
I’m the last one to his desk, and he hands me
my test.
An F in red ink bleeds across the page.
He sighs. “I’m very disappointed in you. If you
don’t get an A on your term paper and ace the final
exam, you’ll flunk my class and lose your
scholarship.” He pauses. “What’s bothering you,
Angelina? You were my best student last term.”
I glance at the door—my way to escape. “Sorry.
I’ll do better. The class load has gotten a little hard
this semester.”
“If you need help with anything, let me know.
I’ve got a list of tutors, and I’m always here to
answer questions.”
I give him my sweetest smile—it always works
on my dad. “Of course, Mr. Landon. I’ll be sure to
come to you for help if I can’t figure this out
myself.”
“Angelina, you’re pale and losing weight. There
are dark circles under your eyes. I’m just
concerned.”
“This is Alaska in the middle of winter.
Everybody’s pale, and I’m a college student with a
heavy class load. I’m just not getting enough sleep.”
“If it’s drugs—”
I laugh, the sound brittle and derisive. “I’m not
taking drugs.”
“All right. You know where my office is.” He
furrows his bushy, white brows. He really should
trim those.
I wish I was taking drugs. Drugs might make
everything better—drown out the voices, make me
numb to the world, let me get some real sleep.
Except as a nursing student, I’ve written papers on
what drugs can do to your internal organs.
Even prescription drugs have more side effects
than the problems they mask. But really, at this
point, I’m not sure it would matter.
Back at my desk, I tear the grocery list out,
folding it and tucking it into my pocket, and then
toss the F test in without filing it away. Once upon a
time, I would have cried as I carefully punched in
the three holes and put it in under the correct file
heading. Now the stacks of loose papers in my
binder leave all sorts of ragged edges.
Packing up my books into my bag, I try to work
up the energy to be concerned about my grades,
but I just want to get my sleep and have this whole
love-potion thing over. All I care about right now is
surviving this week and making the monsters in my
head happy.
Next week, I’ll study extra hard and catch up on
all my work.
If I feel like it …
Before shouldering my book bag, I slip my
phone out of the front pocket, and as I head out
the door, I dial the phone number Hunter gave me.
He answers with a grunt on the third ring.
“Hi. Remember me? I’m the girl who hired you
to …” I glance around to make sure no one’s
listening.
“To kidnap a siren.” His voice is low and gruff.
I wince. Kidnap seems like such a harsh word.
“Can we meet tomorrow at nine in the morning? I
need to have this done by Thursday.”
“Sure. Where?”
“The Coffee Horse. You know where it is?” Far
enough away from campus my friends and I don’t
often go there, close enough I can get there by bus.
I should be able to get in and out without being
noticed by anyone I know.
“You got the money?” he asks.
“Yeah, all ten grand,” I lie.
“Good.” He hangs up without saying goodbye.
I stare at the phone—such sweet manners, his
mother must be proud—before sticking it in my
pocket.
Head down, I weave my way through the crowd
of students heading to and from classes. Bleary-
eyed, they all stumble through the crowd as they
clutch their books in one hand and their espressos
in the other.
“I’m late, I’m late, for a very important test.”
and disappears into a classroom.
I shake my head. Test doesn’t rhyme with late,
but oh well.
Fate, gate, ssstate…
I don’t know if it’s me or the voices saying the
words. I need sleep.
I open the door to my dorm and toss my book
bag on the bed. The door slams behind me and I
turn to find Tyler standing there.
“Bitch.” He knocks me off my feet and I stumble
back, falling on the bed. “Do you know what you
did to me? The cops are breathing down my neck.
They had a search warrant. And now I’m suspended
from the team because of you.”
The voices laugh. We told you to stay out of this.
We brought him here to punish you. Maybe next
time you’ll listen.
“No. Please.” Icy claws squeezing my heart, I
scramble back until I bump into the wall. “Don’t do
this. Tyler, please.”
He grabs my hair and drags me back toward him
before shoving me and pinning me down.
I scream and he clamps his hand over my
mouth. I try to bite him, but laughing, he punches
me in the gut.
Grabbing the lamp beside my bed, I hit him over
the head. It’s only wood, but he grunts.
He clamps his hands around my throat. “Bitch.”
I can’t breathe. I try to push him off, kicking,
flailing, clawing.
He only laughs. “You settle down and I’ll let go.”
I stop fighting. He loosens his grip.
“You’re so high and mighty. Think you’re better
than the rest of us,” he hisses in my ear.
A rapid knock on the door, the knob turns, and
the door opens. I hadn’t locked it. He didn’t give
me the chance.
Emma calls out, “Angelina? Are you home?”
In a moment, he’s off of me, leaving me panting
to catch my breath. He’s out the door, shoving past
Emma.
I wrap a blanket around myself. I want the earth
to open up and swallow me.
“Oh my God, are you okay?” Emma’s arms wrap
around me, holding me tight, and I let out a sob,
trying to pull away. “No, you don’t. You’re not
cowering away from me.”
Holding me tighter, she strokes my hair and
rocks me, singing softly like Mom used to do to
frighten away our nightmares.
“Why did you come?” I whisper.
She says, “I’ve had a bad feeling ever since the
last time we got together, and then you missed our
usual study time last week.”
When my sobs turn to quiet gasps, Emma says,
“Who was he? I’ll rip his dick off.”
“You can’t. He …,” I say. “He didn’t do anything.”
Yet. The voices laugh.
“Angelina, tell me.” She lifts my chin and looks
into my eyes.
Keep your mouth shut. Think what he’ll do to
her.
Not my sister. Not Emma.
I shake my head. “I can’t tell you.”
Chapter 20
~ HUNTER ~
It is entirely too bright outside. The bright light
stabs through my eyes with ice picks, and my head
pulses painfully. Maybe I should have stopped
drinking after the first bottle.
Who sets meetings at the butt-crack of dawn?
This had better be good. At least she chose a coffee
shop for this little meeting. Some caffeine would do
me good—break the fog hanging over me and
muddling up my mind.
Unfortunately, I’ve already been banned from
this one—a misunderstanding over what black
coffee means. Apparently, the waitress thought I
was scary when I lost my temper.
I didn’t even smash anything. Just growled a
little.
Parking my truck in the back, I inspect my
reflection in the visor’s mirror. My old glamour
charm, the one from before I caught the emperor’s
attention, fits over my body like a second skin. I can
move without stumbling over my own feet.
My hair is silvery white, like my fur and the
feathers on my wings, and my eyes are still my
natural amber color. Same height as my natural
form, same build and musculature.
I climb out of the truck and stretch, feeling more
alive than I have since Sammi died. The glamour no
longer blocks my senses, and the smells of fresh
coffee and pastries, the cool air and the spice of
winter, fill me with a tantalizing array of sensations.
This is the difference in the quality of a first-
class, legitimate charm caster and a half-assed,
back-alley purchase from a witch. But at least the
witch isn’t likely to rat out my new face to the
Usurper.
Today, I should be fine—so long as I never use
this charm in public again. I doubt anybody would
recognize me here anyway.
As I approach the front door, two ladies step out
from the coffee shop, backpacks slung over their
shoulders. One sees me and elbows the other girl;
they both stare at me and then run to their car,
giggling, glancing back at me over their shoulders.
Discomfort worms through me. I’m not sure
what I did to make them laugh, and since I’m
standing upwind from them, their smell is lost to
the icy wind.
Turning to the door, I catch my reflection in the
glass—short-sleeve shirt, coatless, no gloves, no
winter boots. No human would be foolish enough
to walk outside in an Alaska winter without
bundling up. And I’m not even shivering.
Amateur mistake.
I got to stop drinking so much.
With a sigh, I open the door and step inside
Morning customers pack the café. The sweet
smell of pastries and the bitter aroma of coffee hits
me like a truck, and I’m bombarded with the sight
of hearts and cupids and sweet sayings on
cardboard clouds. I forgot Valentine’s day is just
two days away. Stupid human holiday.
I quickly pick out her scent—tainted with the
acrid scent of fear and an electric tang of anxiety …
and that something reptilian I can’t place, the same
evil stench I picked up at the warehouse. Maybe
she has a snake-skin purse? Doesn’t seem her style.
A book set out before her, she leans over it, lost
in whatever she’s reading. Her blonde hair sweeps
down in a silky wave. Distractedly, she tucks it
behind her ear, and I wish I could run my hands
through the length of it.
Her long, lean legs, covered in black leggings,
stretch out, her black boots up to her knees. Pink
sweater with the top few buttons undone. I lick my
lips.
What is it about this human girl? No one else
has tempted me since Sammi died.
Feeling playful, like a wolf with his mate, I pull
out the seat beside her without saying a word.
“That seat is tak … er, I mean, hi.” She looks me
up and down, her eyes widen. Her arousal flares
briefly before she looks away, and my body
responds, wanting to make her mine. “I’m sorry,
but I’m supposed to meet someone here. Please
go.”
I snag a pastry from her plate. “Angel, you called
me, remember.”
She blanches. “You can disguise yourself as
anyone?”
I don’t bother to correct her. I just smile.
“Can you really get me—” She glances around
and lowers her voice. “—you know, what I want?”
“If you’ve got the money.”
I catch the reptilian scent again, stronger now,
laced with magic. So familiar, I can almost place it,
but the stink of magic makes it hard to identify.
Biting her lip, she leans close to me. “I only have
about seven thousand.” She scoots a gym bag
towards me and then wraps her arms around her
stomach.
“I don’t work for so little. We’re done.” But I
don’t stand up to leave like I should. I just watch
her.
Sniffling, she wipes an eye and looks away from
me. “But you said you’d take an … alternate
method of payment. Didn’t you?”
“Cold, hard cash, angel.”
“Wait, I’ll pay you in other ways.” She grips my
sleeve, panic written across her face.
My heart wrenches, and I pause, kicking myself
for being so soft even as I do so. “And how do you
expect to do that?”
Cheeks flushing prettily, she motions me closer
to whisper in my ear. “Today, all day, I’ll do
whatever you want.” Her voice is silky soft, her
breath hot against my skin. She pauses, biting her
lip, and that sharp, reptilian odor stings my nose.
Then she leans forward and purrs, “In your bed.”
My face burns. I’m not into one-night stands.
The wolf part of me is too strong to think it’s a
good idea. It can only end badly.
But lately, everything I do ends badly.
It’s been so long, so very long.
“You know I’m not human, right?”
“You look human right now. Handsome too.”
Smelling of determination, she reaches under the
table and lightly touches my inner thigh. I nearly
jump out of my glamour as she traces circles higher
and higher sending an electric thrill coursing
through me.
She looks soft and smells of sugar. I imagine she
tastes of sex and life and intoxicating wonderment.
Maybe I can pretend, just for a moment, I love her
and she loves me. That I’m someone else, a simple
human man with simple human needs. That I’m not
hunted, not putting her in danger by taking her to
my bed.
Pretend I’m not betraying Sammi …
Creator, forgive me. I drop some bills on the
table and gather the keys to my truck.
“Let’s go.” I offer her my hand, and she takes it.
Chapter 21
~ ANGELINA ~
With a creak and the groan of tired metal joints,
the truck comes to a stop. A run-down shack sits in
front of us. Parked in front of the garage, I can see
junk piles through the window, at least the closest
layer. As I step out, wind whistles around the
corner of the building and burns my face, the only
exposed skin on my body.
He opens the door, unlocked despite the
neighborhood. The smell of stale alcohol makes me
gag. A beat-up couch covered in blankets and
crumbs seems to be the only spot in the room free
of bottles, dirty dishes, paper, and junk food. The
arms of the lone couch are slashed, as if claws had
ripped them apart.
He kicks a pair of boxers under the couch. “It’s
been a long time since a woman has been in here.
I’m sorry. Give me a moment.”
He disappears into a side room, and I unzip my
coat and hang it on a peg by the door—the only
available surface where my coat won’t get dirty.
I’ve heard the girls talk in high school about how
much it hurts the first time, and in college, the
cheerleaders described their conquests and the
different positions they’ve tried … Will he expect
that of me?
Half a bottle of whiskey and a dirty glass sit on
the counter in the kitchen. No rags, no paper
towels, and only a bit of soap at the bottom of the
bottle, I wash the glass using my hands and a drop
of soap. When it’s clean, I pour myself a shot and
swallow it. It burns on the way down, and I like how
a warm numbness spreads through me.
I smile and pour another one.
Behind me, the bedroom door swings open, and
I can feel his gaze on my back, studying me. I turn
to look at him over my glass.
He’s beautiful. Jeans riding low on his hips, one
knee ripped out. Barefoot. Shirtless. Muscles
sculpting his arms and chest. Silvery white hair to
his shoulders. The perfect jaw—strong and sure—
and soft lips. Everything I could want.
… except he’s not Jason.
What am I doing here? He’s not even human; I
am so going to hell for this. I can’t do this. I’ve got
to get out of here.
Pain slams into me, and I almost drop the cup.
Drrriiinnnk. You will do asss we sssay.”