Page 32 of Patrick’s Seduction (Scanguards Vampires #19)

32

F allon sat on the passenger seat of a dark blue Audi. Patrick was driving, and behind him sat Wesley, the witch she’d met the previous night. It was mid-morning, and the traffic over the Golden Gate Bridge was moderate. Following them in a black SUV were three of Patrick’s colleagues, all vampire hybrids: Nicholas, Benjamin, and Cooper. Patrick had explained why they all looked younger than they were: a vampire hybrid stopped aging at age twenty-one.

Her head still swam with all the information Patrick had given her on the subject of vampires. She was grateful for it because it helped her push back the anxiety about where they were heading: into the lion’s den. Or, more accurately, the wolf’s lair.

The closer they got to their destination, the faster her heart raced. As if Patrick knew how she felt, he reached for her hand and squeezed it.

“I won’t leave your side,” he promised.

Moments later, he stopped the car in front of a tall iron gate and rolled down the window. He reached out and hit the button on an intercom system. There was silence for a while, then a crackling in the line.

“Yes?”

“We’re here to speak to William Gallagher,” Patrick said firmly.

He’d told her earlier that William Gallagher was Cameron’s father and most likely the alpha of their pack.

“He’s not expecting anybody.”

“It’s vital that we speak to him. It’s about his son, Cameron.”

There was a long silence, and Fallon wondered if the other person had simply severed the connection when she heard some more static coming from it. It was followed by the same voice.

“Come in.”

The gate in front of them opened slowly, and they drove through it, the second car following them. It was a long, winding driveway, and Fallon guessed that it was about half a mile long. At its end, a massive old brick building rose. It reminded her of the quintessential horror movie mansion. It sported a turret, several dormers, and a couple of gargoyles sitting high above the entrance door as if standing sentry over the building and its residents. She shivered at the sight of it.

Patrick parked the car and switched off the engine. As they got out, she noticed that the three vampire hybrids had parked a few yards away from them and were also getting out. She looked back at the building and noticed the movement of a curtain in front of one of the upper windows, but there was no light behind it, so she couldn’t see who was watching them.

When she heard the opening of the heavy oak entrance door, her gaze was drawn to it. A man appeared at the door, a shotgun in his hands. She recognized the man’s aura: he was a werewolf.

“Vampires,” he snarled. “You should know better than to show up here.”

She noticed him looking at the three hybrids, who were already approaching the entrance. It was clear that the man hadn’t noticed her yet.

With more courage than she thought she had, she stepped forward, drawing his attention to her. “They’re with me.”

His gaze shot to her, and he jerked back visibly. “What the fuck?” he hissed loud enough for everybody to hear.

From inside the house, a male voice boomed. “Byron, what’s going on?”

Without turning his head to reply to the man, he said loudly, “There’s a bunch of vampires here with a female werewolf.”

Seconds later, a second man appeared in the door. He was older and she could clearly see the resemblance to Cameron. This was William Gallagher, Cameron’s father.

Gallagher’s eyes quickly roamed over his visitors, then snapped back to her. “Who are you? What pack are you with?”

She lifted her chin, steeling herself. She had to pretend to be stronger than she was; she wouldn’t let him intimidate her. She let a growl roll over her lips.

“Your son Cameron attacked me three nights ago and made me into this. Against my will.”

Gallagher’s expression didn’t change, but she noticed that Byron showed signs of surprise.

“Cameron died two months ago.”

“You mean he faked his death two months ago?” Patrick interjected, now stepping next to her.

Gallagher narrowed his eyes. “I’m not talking to you, vampire. I don’t know what your game is, but you should know better than to come to a werewolf Alpha’s home and make accusations.”

“It’s not a game,” Patrick replied. “We’re here to get justice for Fallon. Cameron turned her; he has to pay for that.”

Gallagher huffed. “Stay out of our business. All of you.” He swept his gaze over the Scanguards contingent, suddenly stopping at Wesley. “A witch? How dare you?”

“So you’re sticking to your story that Cameron is dead?” Fallon asked, not wanting him to change the subject. “I saw him only three nights ago. I spoke to him on the phone yesterday. He’s alive. And he did this.” She made a hand movement indicating her body. “I shifted last night for the first time. I hate everything about it. I didn’t choose this. He needs to be punished for what he did to me.”

“My son would have never done such a thing. Clearly, somebody is impersonating him.”

Gallagher lifted his chin in a gesture that reeked of superiority. She saw it then: he was used to his word being law. Was it really possible that he believed Cameron to be dead? He certainly had a good enough poker face not to give anything away. But was Byron just as cunning? She ran her eyes over the younger man. There was something almost refined about him, something that made it hard for her to believe that he was a werewolf. But his aura didn’t lie. His face, however, showed more than that of William Gallagher. She could read the guilty expression as if it were written on a big billboard. William Gallagher was lying.

She trained her gaze back on the older Gallagher. “Cameron won’t get away with this. I will find him. And he will pay.”

Gallagher’s lips peeled back from his teeth. “You shouldn’t make accusations that you can’t substantiate. As for your vampire friends…” He cast a dismissive look at them. “They’ll use you for their own interests. You don’t belong with them. You belong with a pack. A werewolf on her own is always in danger. Something might happen to you, and without a pack, you have no defenses.”

The threat was clear. “You think I would join your pack? Then listen carefully.” Her hands began to tremble, and she balled them into fists to hide that she was close to breaking down. “I spit on your pack. You disgust me. You’re harboring a criminal. Cameron is a killer.”

Gallagher’s face was beet red. “Lies!”

“She’s not lying,” Patrick interrupted. “Cameron killed two hikers here in Marin County, and one jogger in the Presidio in San Francisco.”

“That’s a false allegation! Cameron isn’t a killer.”

“Isn’t?” Patrick asked, his voice cutting now. “Didn’t you mean wasn’t ?” He let out a bitter chuckle. “We can prove that he killed the man in the Presidio. We have footage. Now all we need is to find him. There’s a warrant out for his arrest.”

Fallon was surprised at Patrick’s claim. He hadn’t mentioned anything about a warrant earlier. Was he bluffing?

“Then why aren’t the police here right now, huh?” Gallagher challenged. “I tell you why: because you have nothing. Just conjecture.”

“So you’re sticking to your story that Cameron is dead. Fine. We’ll find him without your help. Harboring a murderer makes you an accessory.” He tipped his head in Byron’s direction. “Just like the rest of your family. You want them to pay for Cameron’s crimes too?”

Gallagher growled low and dark, and she could see that he was close to shifting. She knew it because she could feel it in her own bones. With Gallagher about to shift, her own need to shift grew. As if Gallagher knew, he tossed her an evil grin. He knew what was happening to her. He knew if he shifted, she would too, and she wouldn’t be able to control it.

“Patrick,” she whispered. “We need to leave.”

Gallagher scoffed. “Might wanna listen to the pup. Now get the fuck off my land! If you ever come back, I’ll rip your hearts out myself!”

Wesley suddenly raised his arms, a few Latin words rolling over his lips, but Patrick stopped him with a quick movement of his head.

“We’re leaving,” Patrick announced.

Her nape prickled with tension, and she couldn’t wait to get in the car. Only when the engine finally howled, and they drove back to the gate that opened by itself, did she feel better.

“It was a mistake to come here,” Wesley said from the back bench.

“No, it wasn’t,” Patrick said. “We now know that Gallagher knows full well that his son is alive and that he merely faked his death. He probably helped him.”

“How? The guy looked pretty stone-faced from where I was standing,” Wesley said. “Wouldn’t wanna play poker with that asshole.”

Fallon looked over her shoulder. “Byron gave him away. He knows that Cameron is alive, and he also knows what he’s capable of.”

“Exactly,” Patrick confirmed, and squeezed her hand. “We’ll get him.”

“How?” Wesley asked.

“What would you do if your son was being hunted by vampires?”

“I don’t have a son, but, well… I would probably try to help him get to safety,” Wesley mused.

At Wesley’s words, Fallon relaxed into the passenger seat. Patrick had a plan, and she was grateful for it because she was close to breaking. The argument with William Gallagher had cost her more energy than she’d expected. But she’d withstood his demands and insinuations. She was stronger than even a few days ago. Was the wolf inside her lending her this newfound strength?