Chapter Two

I'm pissy. I'm grumpy. I'm all sorts of things as I trudge past the double door and into Kings' High. As much as I hate to admit, is a fairly decent school. It's large in size and is quite new, built within the past decade. Two floors, an affair of brick and mahogany wood. The Commons is the main room connecting all branches of the school. If I didn't hate it so much I'd say the school looked impressive with its full arches and soft, warm colors. The school mostly consisted of off whites, light blues and brown even though the school colors are silver, brown and white.

I steer clear of the Commons and take a longer, quieter way to my first class. The one thing I dislike more than the school is the crowds. The rooms full of packed bodies and, in the morning, the Commons is beyond full.

My first period is Calculus. I figured that maybe if I get the worst class over with first the rest of the day might be manageable. I guess that the perk of being so close to getting out of here, classes can be moved around. I'm turning a corner when I hear quick footsteps coming towards me. I'm not human and that's probably the only reason I managed to side step out of the way in time. A boy in a heavy duty Carhartt jacket flies around the corner.

"Watch it loser!" And then he was gone, not slowing for even a second.

He flies around a corner and tells me to watch it? Oh lovely, it's going to be one of those days.

I pull into my class with seven minutes to spare and took a seat next to the back. From here I get a good view of the class and even less view of the teacher, for which I'm glad. Mr. Bernard was a paunchy man in his mid- forties. You could tell that in his teens and twenties he might have been attractive but that receded, in time, with his hairline.

I drop my bag and cross my arms as I wait impatiently. I hate being still. It sucks. I glance around at the posters and papers. Personal, and yet impersonal, touches around the room do little to hide this place for what it was; a prison. Not one with bars or guards per say, but a prison for one like me all the same. My fellow students file in and ready themselves for another block of hell. I note many where jackets, nothing so heavy yet but the chill is setting in and it doesn't take long for Maine winters to truly descend. Maine has the way about her, two season; winter, fucking cold and spring, warm for about three months then bitter for the other nine. By the time Halloween rolls around everyone will be bundled to their eyeteeth.

Werewolves take a little longer to be the temperature. I'm currently in a short sleeve and slacks and boots. When people are donning their heavy coats I'll pull my sweaters from the attic. I hate restrictive clothes, it's a werewolf thing.

Our bodies are also naturally hotter. Our heart beats beat almost twice as fast as human, pumping our blood like bullets. It's so we can sustain long run, pushing into heavy wind.

"Good morning everyone and happy Friday." And so it begins...

A.P. English. Imagine that, I'm great at my native language.

Art 1. I curse the skies because of this class. Mom's a major artist. Gran teaches sculpture classes at the local college. You'd think since artistry runs in my blood I wouldn't somehow manage to catch paintbrushes on fire. It happens on occasion. Don't ask.


French 3 is going to be one of my favorite classes this year I'm sure. Aside from this and World Civ I hate everything about playing human. I aced French 1 and 2 and World Civ wasn't a class here until this year. I take a desk in the back similar to all my classes and cross my arms over my chest. Imagine that, I think I'm seeing a pattern. I tip my head forward and go into a light sleep. I never get enough sleep no matter if I crash twenty out of twenty-four hours. I'm always exhausted. My eyes flutter shut as people rustle around, basic school background noise moves around me. My heart slows a tenth just as something pushes into me. I come awake, to my feet with a silent snarl lifting my lips from my teeth. I don't do it on purpose, its natural reaction to defend myself when I'm caught off guard.

"Wow, geez." It's another student as he catches himself on my desk, halting his tumble to the floor. He rights himself, never taking his eyes from me. Something in him, his biological reaction knows what just happened and tell him if he takes his eyes from me he's going to get hurt. Deep down he feels the predator in me and knows he's considered prey.

"Freak." I fall back into my seat without a word. He has no idea, I think sardonically. He settles into the seat diagonal mine and whispers not so subtly with the girl on his side. They snicker; they're not the only ones either. That would bother me if I cared which I do not.

The teacher has just come in. I didn't recognize her and I would have if she was a regular here. Hard to forget a face like that; she had beautiful strawberry blonde hair and a long, delicate scar going from her right cheek, over her jaw and down buried beneath her white blouse. I heard a couple gasps but she responded as though she didn't hear. Other than that she was very beautiful with heavy lashes and a full lower lip.

"Hello all. I'm Natalie LaVotte, call me Natalie if you'd like. I'm new to the school and this is the first class so how about we introduce ourselves." As she walked around the room meeting each fascinating character eye to eye I saw that she wasn't just some random lousy teacher. Something about her sparked my wolf and I found myself leaning forward to get a better look at her. She walked with such elegance and fluidity. The way she positioned her arm made her look regal and stunning. There was more to her that met the eye that I was sure of.

"And you miss?" She was practically in my face and she smiled down at me and I leaned back automatically feeling my personal space was being attacked. Who is she? I took an inconspicuous deep breathe and smelled nothing out of the ordinary. I cleared my throat.

"Watch out she might bite." The douchebag from minutes ago muttered loud enough for all to hear and, even though they probably wouldn't all get it, everyone laughed. I swallowed the urge to growl but someone else did.

"Mr. Krowl? Life greatest illusion is innocence. You know…with most people their bark is much worse than their bite and bravado is a fine line you must walk for, in times like this, all you need do is push one person one step too far and the wolf next on your door step will be too much bite than you can handle." Natalie LaVotte had her fingers intertwined loosely behind her back and she smiled nicely at him but something about her words seems dark and sharp, all more with her jagged scar.

"I'm Dowan Lowery." I say with a grin and stood to shake her hand because this woman had earned a respect that no one else had in this school. I pull my hair back and take her hand in mine and, with no surprise, find strength.

"Wonderful to meet you, Dowan." She looked directly into my eyes before letting go of my hand and heading for the front of the class. I glanced at the boy and his brows were knitted in heavy concentration. He looked back at me with a couple others who were not gaping at the teacher headed toward the whiteboard.

I smiled at him. Leaning towards him I snap my human teeth to make him jump.

I get a call from one of my two best, and basically only, friends, Liz the moment I step through the front door after school. She's pretty canny like that.

"Me, you and Brax should go out tonight." Is the first thing she says.

"I would say hello but I won't and instead ask if I even have a choice." The warlock giggles a high chiming sound.

"I would say yes but that would be a little white lie." I roll my eyes.

"Hell, the mere insinuation you have anything to do with the word white or anything it defines goes against the laws of the universe." That pulls a loud laugh from her.

"Dress for Hunger."



Hunger is a supernatural bar/club pressed back into the woods, far from civilization. A mere easy journey for any supernatural though. I made the simple journey on four legs. Half a mile from the club I changed back, dressed and jogged the short distance there. In cutoff jeans, sneakers and a short sleeve t-shirt I was about as club ready as I got not to mention it always annoyed Liz to no end.

I push through into the clearing and in the middle, surrounded by forest on every side sat a two story brick building. The clearing is the size of a football field. I press through the barrier of magic knowing if I had been human I'd have touched the barrier unknowing and been transported across to the other side all the while none the wiser to what I'd brushed against. The magic recognized supernatural entities and when a human comes near they neither see nor hear the clearing.

The building was in utter disarray on the outside, as it always has at least as long as I've known of this place. There were no windows or skylights set into the brick and shingled roof. The only ways into the build were two doors on opposite sides. The wall had been worked so as no one could materialize in the building.

At the edge of the forest I could make out only the barest thumping of music but nothing else. A human would have heard nothing. A Fae creature pushes out the door then suddenly sounds and smells flood towards me. Voices, sweat, blood and heavy rock.

I size up the Fae moments before it disappears. Fae are known for their otherworldly appearance; vibrant, unnatural hair, glowing skin and eyes. This one had pale lavender hair the fell long to her waist. Her skin reminded me of ivory under the sun, how it gleams.

I reach the door and push through into the energetic air. The sudden sights and pumping of the bass vibrating the floor beneath me is dizzying. It takes me a moment to stabilize myself and pick out forms in the semi darkness. The fact that it was dim to me meant that had a human somehow manage to come here they'd be all but blind.

It's doesn't help that the checkerboard walls, reflect the light around. Black tile against mirror cover the walls and ceiling while the floor is all straight black. The air is thick, hot and humming with magic potential on my tongue that for just a second I can't breathe at the door. Magic users like warlocks and witches would find this place rejuvenating and vital.

From this door on the left was a wall length bar that tucked under the staircase in the far corner from me. Catwalks and lounge areas wrapped around the second floor with a second smaller bar in accompany. To my right was a first floor lounge section with simple tables and chairs. Directly across from the door a dais pressed up against the far wall for bands, dancers, what have you. A tiny roped off section in a dark corner beside it showed off state of the art equipment that spread the club's music that made my temples throbbing. Dancing took precedence of every other free space.

I feel a multitude of gazes flash to me then turn away, checking who had just walked in the door. I'm not badly under dressed but I feel downright raggedy against the semi casual appearance of most. Fae make everything look fantastic with their otherworldly beauty, were-creatures wear as little as they can get away with legally and sometimes not legally, short cocktail like dresses, skimpy halter tops and shorts that look more like underwear. Were-creatures are not body conscious animals in fact I've never seen a were with excess fat or wasn't toned and muscular. Even I have the body of a woman that goes regularly to the gym and it's all from running and the change. It all takes a toll, working our bodies to the extreme.

It's also much easier to strip and change if we have little on. I carry a pack when I run, tied around my ankle. It'd big enough for shorts and a baggy shirt but nothing else; lucky for me I have small breasts.

I scan the crowds feel a heavy gaze on me but I can't find Liz. I run a hand through my windblown hair and make my way toward the stairs. We always take a table in the upstairs, ever since Liz showed me this place a year ago. A couple of were-leopards walk towards me in animate conversation with each other. I only know what they are because their spots are like faded marker on their skin, over their bare shoulders and arms. I have to turn side ways to avoid running into them.

I take the stairs two at a time and skim the faces until I see Brax waving at me near the back wall. I grin and quicken my steps.

Brax and Liz are the best friends ever. Elizabeth is warlock, practitioner of dark arts but not evil. Not many people truly understand what it means to be a warlock so they resign themselves to distrust and suspicion. I was like that at first, four years ago when I met her, but we've long gotten past that. Warlocks have a power much like witches but they have no boundaries. Witches are good little beings who believe you always pray to nature and heal the wee little beasties of the forest. You do spells for understanding, guidance and peace. Constricting and very linear. Warlocks don't bother with the waiting; they don't mind using their given gifts for their benefit. Many warlocks go into business as ghost whispers and mediums. Liz tried to explain it but I don't really get it so much.

Brax on the other hand I do get. As another were it's easier to relate. Brax is a were-viper and much like me right now in jean shorts and a t-shirt. Brax is a fluke, I like to call him. Were-vipers are usually small, doesn't matter if their male or female. Slight frame, their height closer to a female's average height. Brax has wide shoulders, twice as wide as normal and weight averaging closer to two-fifty then the usual one-fifty. What wasn't strange was his typical Viper looks, sharp elegant face with white-green eyes. Sandy brown hair was short and pushed back from his face.

"Hey." He gives me a toothy smile, one I reciprocate.

"Sup?" We fist pound as I slide into the chair opposite him.

"Nah much."


"Getting drinks." I search the short bar looking for tall tale white blonde hair. Liz is eighteen, like Brax, a year younger than me but she looks a kid. She's a whopping five feet tall and standing beside Brax's six foot it's too comical. Despite being such a shorty she packs a hard punch, her size has nothing against her power.

"Hey, wolf." Liz's tinkling voice comes from behind me. I smile over my shoulder as she circles around for an empty seat.

"Shorty, what's up?" She has a child's face, soft, innocent but it's the adult eyes that can't fool you. Almond shaped framed in blonde eyelashes. They're light hazel, knowing, all seeing ringed in red. It looks positively exorcism movie material.

"Nothing really, water?" She hands me an ice cold bottle before I respond because she already knows. Reading surface thoughts and emotions is a warlock thing I've never gotten used to.

"Parched, how's your coven?" I ask as she settles in with a tall glass of something dark and in the thick of the crowded club I couldn't make out any smell.

She rolls her eyes and twisted her mouth down.

"Jarrick is such a loser, he won't leave mom alone."

"Is he still trying to get her to marry him?" I smirk. For the past hundred years or so this warlock has been trying to court her mother, Charis, and failing horribly.

"Ugh, bad mood setting in. He won't go away, even tried to get me to talk to her." She shakes her head while Brax shakes. Brax always finds anything that exasperates Liz amusing; they have a love-hate relationship. She pokes him hard and it lets lose his laughter but against the thumping music it doesn't stretch out past us.

"So is your mom hampering you yet?" Brax grin and waggles his brows at me. I narrow my eyes and bare my teeth. Mating season is coming soon. Natural wolves in the wild only mate once a year during the winter. While human settle in and hunker down indoor during the cold months, wolves are their most active.

Werewolf blood is dominant in every aspect, no matter how much human blood is added into the equation. A male or female could be born with one drop of werewolf blood in their system and in their teens when the first change is expect they will turn. Werewolves are born not made, you can't be changed and it's that way for every were-creature.

"She's given me the Talk, kill me please, but she said she wants me to wait a few more years. Since we're no pack it'll be easier." Brax cocks his head. I shake mine, Brax wouldn't understand pack hierarchy, vipers are independent creatures.

"How does that work?" I take a swig of water and shrug.

"If I were in a pack, then I'd have chosen a mate a few years after my first change. As a lone wolf I don't follow pack."

"But what about your mom and Gran?" Liz asks frowning.

"It's only males that get their knickers in a twist about stuff like that. Females don't so much need those rules, plus we aren't pack, we have no Alpha so basically we're all loners." Abruptly Brax's face twisted with disgust and shock.

"Wait, a few years after your first turn? You first changed at twelve, right? Nasty." I purse my lips and nod.

"Males might changes around that age but females usually don't. They're closer to fourteen on average so seventeen, eighteen is normal for mating. I think the fact that we're not in a pack has to do with my dad."

"Because he's human." Liz says. I nod.

"Difficult to be pack when he isn't. Sometimes it's hard for him to understand us, what we are."

Brax snorts. "I remember when you told me his reaction to your first change." I lay my head on the table and roar out my laughter, so hard it brings tears to my eyes. I always remember back then fondly...

It was summer, months after turning twelve, and in the stifling heat, dad and I kicked up our feet on the coffee table in front of the television.

"I'm resigned to not move for the rest of the summer." He teased beside me, sweating with me. It had only been the last few week that my senses had started to heighten, strengthened by the coming change but I didn't know that. No one expected my change for at least another two years so I hadn't gotten that talk. I could smell our sweat, feel his heat and even hear the stutter of his human heart.

"I feel like if I move I'm gonna melt." I laugh, a sweet young sound and we grin at each other.

"The old lady's bring home ice cream." He gives me a toothy smile.

"Tell mom you said that. I dare you." He arches a brow.

"Hey I'd like to keep my behind intact. Momma's got sharp teeth." I turn to him, my gut twist. I vaguely remember thinking it felt like I was sore all over but at the time I stuck my tongue out.

"I double wolf dare you." It was a silly thing, stupid and cheesy but he went along with my child like mind. He feint cowered with an infectious grin.

"Take it back, girlie."

"I'm gonna tell." He lunges toward me and puts his hands on my sides. I screech at his fingers tickle me with no mercy. I struggle pointlessly against him as my inside twist and turn more than normal.

It's like a bomb going off in my chest. I scream, seemingly endless pain shoots through my entire body, radiating from my torso out to my fingers and toes. He senses my response immediately.

"Sweetheart, are you okay? What's wrong? Tell me where it hurts?" My arms wrap around my stomach in my helplessness. I cry out for him, unknowing what was happening. I look up at him, tears streaming from the pain and he gasps low. At the time I didn't know and couldn't focus on it but after I was told my gold flecked eyes had flared, my normal color eaten away by yellow. He jumps off the couch and runs for the house phone. I scream for him, beg him not to leave me.

"Baby, you need to get home now…. Her eyes are all yellow…. Yes… Yes, what you told me!...No… I don't know. She's screaming, in pain…. No it's not showing yet…okay." Then he's there again and holding me. He babbles reassurances, showering me in hugs and kiss to keep me preoccupied. I can tell now he had no idea what to do but back then I sobbed wanting mommy, wanting it to end. The front door crashes open and momma is there with her arms around me.

"I know you understand what's happening but the first change takes the longest, it's painful and horrifying to watch. Leave her to Aiyana, Mark. This is something the mother does with her daughter alone." I cry, screaming as waves of agony pulse under my skin, deep in my bones. My mom whispers in my ear, filling me with love and comfort and something in those word and her voice forces the worst of the pain back.

I whimper endlessly, for what seems hours in reality it's only a handful of minutes.


"Be at ease, pup, you'll get through this." Her force is like cool water through my scalding veins.

"Why… it hurts so much." That's when my bones begin to crack and shift. I cry out, fresh waves of tears drowning my cheeks.

"You are becoming what mommy is. It'll be over soon sweetie." I remember every second, every spilt and shift until my skin. I remember her arms tight around me as my back bowed and my newfound claws dug into her arms. Despite my wiggling and growling she rocked me gently humming and it's what got me through it. I could never ask for a better mom. She's given everything for me, done her best and then some to make sure I grew up to be everything I should be.

I couldn't change back for several days afterward. The first day I limped and whimpered. Several times, not understanding my own strength, I pressed against dad too hard or accidentally bite him. He had needed stitches on the second day, when he got back he hugged me and I cower terrified I'd hurt him again. My dad is the best too and when I think of that day I always cry.

I jerk as my chair is bumped into jostling me to the floor. Caught off guard I can't catch myself so I literally go sprawling or I would have had an arm not slid around my waist. It clamped around me catching me and pulling me up. I almost instantly smelt fresh rain, something spicy and heady. I'm about to turn my head into the smell when I catch what the arm is attached to. I let out a low hiss.

"Apologies." The vampire pulls away with his hand up making the universal peace gesture. I rake him with a glare and find my viciousness suddenly lacking. This male vampire is tall, taller than me anyway, by several inches. He has black raven's hair, unkempt and tousled as if he had just run his fingers through it or caught a falling woman. It's just long enough for a hand to fist in it I notice absently. He has a man's face, not sleek and narrow like modern human men but something more old world, a gene lost through the years. A strong jaw, long and elegant yet arrogant eyebrows over heavily lashed sapphire eyes. I've never seen such brilliant cerulean depths. I suddenly let out a low breath. My gaze traces over his sculpted lips, the top thinner than the bottom which is full. I watch as one corner curls up and I feel the strangest urges.

With him this close I can feel the size of him, making me feel slight. His wide shoulders in a plain white tee taper to a narrow waist that I refuse to admit looks stunning in his low riding jeans.

I growl to hide my surprise and he smiles with teeth, all straight and white. I narrow my eyes and bare my teeth in a not so smiling manner.

"Don't touch me, vampire."

He gives me a good-nature grin before saying almost flippantly,

"No problem, wolf. Next time I'll let a lady fall to the ground because I accidentally hit her chair. Of course then I'd be blame for having no manners. My mother would turn in her grave." I'm logical. I'm reasonable despite my whole being humming with the need to tear my claws into his very male, very stunning face. I take a deep breath, tasting fresh rain and spice, what I recognize as him, on the back of my tongue. Swallow. Exhale.

"Thank you." I take one step back and grumble it. I can barely hear it but he chuckles.

"You're welcome and my apologies for bumping into you." He then turn without another word and disappears into the crowd. I slip back into my chair under heavy scrutiny and pretend like I never touched or smelled that male.


The next two days are calm, meager and damn depressing. It rains off and on never giving the earth time to dry. I work on human school homework to appease dad and afterward Gran, mom and I go running. It's a fairly successful day in my book. Sunday comes and mom leaves for her gallery showing in Mass. I take this time to do a full clean sweep of my room. I turn on my music player, blast the volume and stick my headphones on. I start with Metallica and work through one playlist. Vacuuming and laundry are done in flash. Picking up and tidying go by before I blink. I start Two Steps From Hell and get lost in the orchestral overwhelming power of their music. When I can see the top of my desk for the first time in who know how long I pause. I uncover My Dante Alighieri's The Divine Comedy. It's in an embroidered, silver filigree hard cover with a well-worn spine. I remember the first time I saw it, in a pawn shop. It was in passing with mom and dad when I was sixteen.

"It's so pretty." I breathe with my nose against the glass. Dad bends down to level with me as he looks at it.

"Looks like it's in Italian too, fancy." I smile, fingers curling as I imagined holding it.

"I would love to learn Italian." I whisper. I vaguely remember hearing his heart pick up but calming as he turns to grin at me.

"Wouldn't that be cool then we can tease mom and she wouldn't know." I giggle and we share a minute of sneaky glee.

"I can hear you two." Mom scolds teasingly across the shop and we laugh uproariously. Just the other day I had been picked on at school for being too quiet, or tall or something I can't recall. I was in a bad mood all day and he had done his best to make me feel good. Months later, for my birthday, I unwrap that same book and stared in awe at the Learning Italian book with it.

"You remembered." I felt tears prick my eyes and Dad wraps his arm around mom and they smile.

"Of course, sweetheart, I remember everything you say. In here." He touches his chest just over his heart. I clutch the book to my chest and they watch me cry with joy.

I shake my head coming back to now as the breeze from my open balcony door brings the smell of fresh rain. It had only stopped raining that morning so everything is still damp, the air thick with mist. Twin rich blue sapphires flit into my mind and are gone as quick as they came. I blink, shake my head again and return to cleaning. The Divine Comedy is still on the desk, I leave it open where I left off reading days ago sure I'd pick it up again soon. I run a cloth thick with cleaner over my television, desk and bookcase. Stepping over my bed I start gently cleaning the Lowery statues when that thick fresh rain smell wafts to me again and I sigh. Taking a deep breathe I shiver, remembering the cold rain and mist running through my fur. I smile. I start a playlist when, to my chagrin, I realize I've been listening to nothing for a solid half hour.


Monday comes and passes uneventful. I dread school but it's calm, quiet. The house is quiet without mom. Gran spend a lot of time at the local college, getting back into the school routine groove with paperwork and lessons. I don't see her much so it's basically dad and I at night. Dad doesn't cook and I wouldn't eat his food if it would save me from starvation so we order pizza and veg on the couch, watching comedies and B movies. Mom and I are the runners, outdoors type. Dad and I like to lazy around and bond, it's perfect.

Tuesday I'm back in French with the commanding, authoritative and yet impressive LaVotte. We go around the room and talk a little about ourselves. She's originally from France, travels between here and there often. She speaks other languages and in college aimed for being a translator.

"What other languages do you speak?" A nose-in-a-book type girl asks and LaVotte smiles. It pushes the scarring on her cheek up.

"A few, Italian, German and Polish aside from French and English. I focused on European languages. Does anyone else know any other language aside from English and French?" Only a three hands raise including mine.


"Russian." She chats with each one asking where and why they decided to learn those languages.

"Dowan?" I blink up, lost in thought.


"Oh, davvero?Perché hai scelto italiano?" Oh really? Why did you choose Italian? She arches a brow and smiles. I look up at her, its strange hearing someone speak it to me. It takes me a moment to translate.

"Ci dispiace, è strano sentire. Hovoluto leggere Dante Alighieri La Divina Commediain italiano. E 'stato unregalo di compleanno." Sorry, it is strange to hear it. I wanted to read Dante Alighieri's The Divine Comedy in Italian. It was a birthday gift.

She laughs lightly before correcting my pronunciation of a word. It makes me smirk.

"That is very good. Italian isn't usually someone's first pick to learn a language."

"Now if I could find classes for Bulgarian I'd be in heaven." I retort and she smiles appreciatively before turning away and continuing with class.

I get home later, in a relatively good mood and resign myself to homework at the dining room table. Dad gets home from work with a grim expression but when I ask what's wrong he smiles tiredly and shakes his head. Later we make three boxes of mac and cheese with bacon and chow down to the distasteful stare of Gran. The three of us watch a little television together before she head upstairs to work on some lessons for her classes.

That night I dream I'm lost in a desert where the sun is eclipsed. I wonder for a long time confused and scared only to find the sand is actually small deep blue sapphires. I lay down in them and feel peace. Only then does the eclipse start to pass, bathing me in sweet sunlight. I wake to the smell of spices, exotic and alluring while tears stream down my face.


"That's a strange dream." Liz frowned as she sipped from her tall glass. I lay back in my chair at Hunger and sigh.

"I had it Tuesday and last night." She pursed her lips while swirling the contents of her glass.

"You're mom got caught up and won't be back until tomorrow, right?"

"Yeah she said Wednesday, today, but something came up, shipment problems or other and she'll be back tomorrow." Brax slide back in his seat with a refilled glass. I smell strong alcohol. Supernaturals don't hold to human laws. If you come here you're old enough to drink and if you don't cause shit you're welcome to the next glass.

"Well, deserts are often metaphors for feeling isolated, lonely and/ or feeling deserted. They can be used to describe feeling a loss or a blow to your reputation though I don't think that means anything to you."

"It's a dream." Brax rolls his eyes at Liz who scowls.

"They're not just dreams. Dreams are windows into the soul, gateways seeing deeper into our beings, far beyond who or what we are. They are glimpses into different realms, other worlds." She snapped before turning away from him, dismissing him.

"My mom left for Mass but I don't feel abandoned and I'm not lonely." I scowl.

"Maybe you aren't but you did say your mating season is coming up in the next couple months. A part of you is saying the time is coming despite the fact you're not going to this year. Anyway that's not what's strange; it's your mixture of the eclipse, sapphire jewels."

"How so?" She furrows her brow petulantly.

"Well for instance jewels and eclipses signify complete opposite aspects of the dream world. Whereas jewels indicate social and business climbing, riches, success, admiration and ambition, eclipses are always seen as self- doubt and worth. They over shadow your lack of meeting ambitions and goals, underestimating your abilities. Yet you said when you laid in the sapphires the eclipse started to pass? That's a good sign, signifies new knowledge. I read somewhere it's a sign to look at your latest problem from a new perspective and light."

"What about the sapphire, O' Knowledgeable One?" She laughs, the red in her eyes flaring. I'm vaguely aware of the blare of music switch, tempo picking up as the song changes over the club.

"I think is tightly connected to the pass of your eclipses because the color sapphire is associated with finding new truths, coming into understanding. It's also hand in hand with protection and divinity, overall a good sign in dreams. That's why your dream is so confusing." She sighs and tosses back the rest of her drink. I sip my water mulling over her words, fighting the dawning apprehension forming in my gut.

"I hate your dream reading you know that?" I tease, she grins.

"Fine, I'll take it all back if you go refill my drink." My droll look make her giggle, a sound a human would have shuddered if they heard.

"I need more water anyway." I say waving my almost empty water. Handing me her cup she saying a name and I shrug. I don't know what it is but she says the bartender will understand. I tip my bottle back to empty it as I stand.

"Refill and a bottle." I say to the lean, almost skeleton so, man with over large eyes and claws. He bobs his head and moves to fill my order.

"No more sprawling to the floor, eh wolf?" It takes everything I have not to jump but I do flinch as that smooth, low bedroom voice murmurs beside me. I hadn't even noticed him come up… or has he been there this whole time? I don't look over fighting my multitude of possible reactions. I take a short, inconspicuous breath and beneath the heavy smell of sweat, alcohol and bodies is that spice and rain. I swallow and focus on the bar as I lean into it.

"Good, good. So am I to be speaking to the side of your head?" I narrow my eyes, feel my mouth fall into a hard line as my eyes shift over to look at him. Dammit, the first time I saw him didn't do him justice. I admit grudgingly I must have been distracted by my almost fall because his sheer attractiveness takes my breath away.

Why can't I find someone like this in a werewolf?

This evening he was looking laid back, bad boy if I do say so myself. His hair was pushed back from his face, freeing his face so you can see every angle and striking arrogant look. The shirt he wore is a beige rough spun material with two buttons coming down from the collar and both were undone showing off a delectable collarbones and strong neck.

"Ahh, there we go and how are you this evening?" He leans on his elbows against the bar. It makes the shoulder and back of his shirt tighten and stretch over muscle making my throat go dry. I shake my head and replace the wide eyed confusion with narrow eyes and irritability.

"What do you want vampire? Leave me alone before I forget you did something nice for me." I growl. Perfect timing, the man comes back with my drinks. I mutter a thank you and spin to leave the vampire behind. Our table was on Liz's tab.

"I'm sorry did I do something to offend you?" I can hear amusement in his voice and it makes my temper flare. Attractive but fucking irritating. I turn on my heel to face him and he's so close I have to stumble back not to brush against him. Someone snaps behind me as I hit them.

"What the hell do you want?" I hiss. He grins, vibrant blue eyes taunting me, sending me back into my dream.

"Nothing, just wondering who you were." The way he says it makes the air between us intimate and makes me so very uncomfortable. He gives me a private look telling me he knows something. I can't fight back the scowl. That seems to be happening a lot.

"No one, now go away. Leave me alone." I end the conversation, one of the strangest I've had just by the fact that I had it, by turning away to leave when his hand clasps around my bicep. I jerk away and spin to tear into him when he says,

"I doubt that. Someone who reads Divine Comedy in Italian is not a no one." I freeze, heart clenching. I stare ahead confused, stunned and speechless.

How does he know something like that?

"The book on the cherry desk is well read too. Educated, how nice." He murmurs, eyes dancing. I'm in a state of dangerous calm as I gently sit the bottle and glass on the closest table. Two human looking women look up bemused then see the situation unfolding. They gasp, suddenly jumping up and catching the attention of the nearby tables.

I turn and snap out my fist to piston it into his chest. He falls back several steps, hitting a table, surprising its patrons who move away from us.

"You are very stupid vampire. I gave you more than one chance to walk away." I snarl.

"It's very fucking stupid to point out to my face you have been in my territory. I'm going to kill you now." I lunge my claws in mid descent over my nails. He opens his arms at the last second and moves to throw me expertly but I dig my claws into his chest. I head butt him hard enough my vision tilts and he curses as we fall to the floor. I'm straddling him, and I punch him in face. Before he can respond and I can piston my furred hands into his face again I'm being pulled off him, hard arms wrapping around my chest and arms. I snarl and scream at him, kicking the citizen who swears. I recognize Brax's voice and stop attacking him, instead turn my attention back to the vampire.

"I'll kill you corpse. I'll kill you for coming near my territory. I'll string it out so you suffer you fucking bastard!" I screech so high it's easy to hear me over the music which has been turned down significantly. Most likely security will be here in moments to kick us out.

"Dowan, calm down." Liz is in front of me pinning me with a hard stare. I clench my teeth together, digging my fangs in my lip and hiss at him. My vision is impressive shades of red despite my eyes being a bright eerie yellow.

The vampire stands and licks the blood away from his split lip so I could see it has already stopped bleeding. I wanted to make it gush; I want him bloody and broken. I snarl and he grins.

"The statues are very nice. The ones on the rowan shelf over your bed." I throw myself against Brax's arm, kicking my head back to bashing him in the nose. His arms loosen in surprise and I'm on the vampire again. I don't remember what happens next but when I come to I'm being dragged off him again by two men in yellow shirts with SECURITY in black lettering over the front and back.

"You are dead, fucker. So very dead."

"Someone already beat you to it, wolf." He arches a brow with a playful smile. We watch each other intently, his gaze is knowing and intense. I'm just focusing all my abilities in the one need to make him spontaneously combust. I'm being pulled back from him, toward the stairs and when I reach them a woman appears before me. She's a were-tiger with stripes over her arms, across her neck and visible through her white wife beater. Her muscled legs are wrapped in tight leather pants tucked into knee high kick ass boots. She has short hair that bordered on butch, the piercing stare she directed at me would maim me if looks could in fact kill.

"I don't give a shit if you have a beef outside of this club but there is no fighting in or around my premises. Take it outside or don't ever fucking come back here again. I give one warning then I hand you your ass on a fucking platter, got it?" Her teeth are sharpened, eyes bleeding yellow with her imminent change. I jerk my head in agreement as I force my change to revert. Now that I have some distance my head clears an inch but I'm still practically blinded.

He's been in my home, in my room. I remember smelling fresh rain when I stepped up to the shelf, figuring it was from the persistent rain that day but now that I look back. How had I not thought about that? Because I'm so complacent at home, I never expected such a thing could happen. Hell I don't even lock the balcony door or window. I will now. I feel so stupid and angry and no way to get it out unless I see him out of these walls. Shit was that why he was here tonight? Did he know I'd be here? Did he come to screw with me? Why hasn't he made a move against my house? Attack my family or me? How the fuck does he know where I live? Who the fuck is he?

I shoot him a furious this-isn't-over glower and shake off the hands on my arms. I brusquely spin away, stalk down the stairs and shove through the front doors.


So I love this vampire. He's wormed his way into my heart but will he manage to do the same with Dowan? She's pretty angry and she has every right to be which begs the question: Why is he intentionally pissing her off? Follow the story, review with your ideas and thoughts. I need them for this story to continue. I mean the story is actually already fully finished but whether you get it or not is up to you. Thanks everyone, I appreciate the crazy amount of views.