Page 4 of The Healer (The Blood of Legends #2)

Chapter Four

THE EARLY VAMPIRE CATCHES THE MATE

One month later

R hys stared into the upturned face of Captain Johanna Metcalfe. Her fury pulsed through her body, in her stiff shoulders, clenched fists, pinched lips, and darkened cheeks. He smothered a grin, loving riling her. She was such an easy target.

“If you think for one moment I will let your beasts order my policemen around, you have another think coming.” She shoved her face closer, almost burying it in his chest.

Beasts? This time he did smile, despite looming over the pint-sized human. “Trying to charm me with Callie’s terminology won’t alter the validity of my point.”

Johanna flopped into a nearby chair. Her crisp gray pantsuit didn’t crease, it dared not.

“It’s about trust, Jo-jo.” He lowered his bulk into the leather Queen Anne chair beside her, despite its proximity to a roaring fire.

His bear pushed him to move, skittering goosebumps along his skin, but he resisted, enduring the discomfort for now.

Ignoring his ever-miserable inner beast, he gathered her hand in his massive one, dwarfing hers, and ran a large digit along the delicate vein running from middle finger to her wrist. “You are weaker than us yet hold more power than you realize. Your men can take down a beast, just not during a full moon.”

“He has a point, Captain,” Callie said from the doorway.

Rhys’s head whipped up, and he sucked in a deep breath even as his bear’s attention focused on the one woman he couldn’t have. Mate, his bear roared. He shook his head, trying to displace the urge to toss the gorgeous redhead over his shoulder. Her scent invaded his nose, his lungs, filling him with this driving need to fuck. Crossing his denim-encased legs to hide his growing reaction, he dampened his roaring bear, unable to deal with his continued castigation.

“Morning.” One glance was all he needed.

Her jeans hugged her hips and muscled thighs. Her T-shirt clung to curves and indents he dreamed of running his lips over. She wasn’t his. Gabriel de Winter had claimed her before Rhys knew she existed.

He focused on Johanna, needing to break the mesmerizing lure of Callie’s delicate features and pulsing strength. As a newborn vamp, or suckblood as she called it, she oozed power. For shifters, there was nothing as seductive nor addictive as an alpha female.

“My men won’t follow someone they don’t respect.” Johanna sighed. “That’s true, no matter the species.”

“I’m not saying my men lead, Jo-jo. I’m suggesting my team work alongside yours. What they encounter out in the field will require various skill sets.”

“I like that.” Callie sank into a materialized chair she summoned out of the ether.

Rhys smothered a grimace. Since she had befriended then adopted a polymorph shifter she called George, suckbloods and beasts had formed some sort of truce. He’d learned way more about vampires and their capabilities than any alpha before him. And what they had known hadn’t scraped the iceberg.

“If they’re stumbling on two arguing beasts, let Rhys’s unit handle it and vice versa,” said Callie, now the voice of reason.

Johanna stared at Callie for a while, her brow remaining furrowed. “We’ll do a trial period. So, where have you been, Devereaux? How do you manage to sneak out when Rhys and I are in the middle of an argument?”

Callie’s eyes sparkled as a cheeky smile flared to life. “Gabe had a growing ache I needed to—”

“Nice try, Devereaux. Quit running away.” Johanna’s lips twitched before she morphed them into a scowl.

She chuckled. “Yes, ma’am.” She rested her emerald gaze on Rhys. “George’s en route.”

Rhys nodded. Convincing the new parents that George needed interaction with shifter-children—now that had been an exhilarating argument. Callie hadn’t backed down, her actions that of a defensive mama bear. He had won, but he suspected killing little George’s birth mother and saving her siblings might have played a role in Callie and Gabe’s agreement.

Rhys wanted George to meet with her brothers. She hadn’t seen them since her mom kicked her out of the house. But he didn’t know if she was ready, whether they were after the condition he had found them in. When he returned to the lodge, he would talk to their new father, Reade.

Callie stilled and tilted her head as a shadow entered the luxurious lounge. Not a flame on a candle or in a sconce flickered at the intrusion. A stoic man in black formed in front of them. He was one of a booth of assassins. They served the neighboring vampire hold and had been instrumental in the pseudo battle between vamps and shifters that had brought down a corrupted politician. All at her instigation.

Rhys gritted his teeth, not appreciating the man’s presence and the distrust that came with him, as if Rhys would harm a child. Seconds later, six-year-old George skipped across the Persian rug with her pigtails swinging behind her. She spotted Rhys and ducked behind the man’s leg.

Rhys forced a smile as he sucked in some of his alpha, trying to minimize the dominating effect it would have on a young shifter. “Hey, George. Ready to play?”

“Play?” She peeked around the man. “Hide and seek? Tea parties? Hopscotch?”

He laughed. With each question, she ventured closer, and excitement swished in her unbearably pink skirt. “I wouldn’t know, little one. As far as the children know, a polymorph is coming to visit who has the powers of a goddess.” He tucked a black curl behind her ear, then leaned in to whisper. “I think they’re more excited to see one of the pal’tsy.”

He nudged his head at the assassin who belonged to Dimitri Vasiliev, head of the Vasiliev Hold—one of five vamp holds in the city. Unlike shifters who had one pack per city or town, the vamps shared territory.

Her pale blue eyes crinkled, and a giggle slipped out, which she covered with her tiny hand. “I think so too.”

He grinned, unable to help it. “Shall we, cupcake?”

When she slipped her hand into his, he stared at it for a moment, at how fragile it was, weighing nothing. Something intense swept through him, and his bear whimpered, cubs.

After raising his gaze to meet Callie’s, she wore a sweet smile. “Now don’t terrorize those poor kids, George, and remember, they don’t all have what you have.”

Rhys frowned.

Callie pressed a kiss to George’s cheek. “Some of them need shoes and clothes. Some have nice toys, and some don’t.”

“Can I share?” She twirled on the spot, swirling her skirt, while trusting Rhys to spin her like a ballerina.

He did so instinctively. When she stopped, she swayed with dizziness but raised her arms, asking for him to pick her up. He did so without forethought then blinked at the sweet-scented bundle in his arms.

Not minding that she had him wrapped around her pinky, he tweaked her nose. Rising to his full height, he towered over the pal’tsy who didn’t flinch or blink but held his stance. Rhys would drive them to the lodge, and a Vasiliev SUV would collect them after lunchtime. Deviation from this brought Dimitri—self-appointed guardian—to the lodge, and his presence alone raised the hackles on any shifter present.

Rhys hoped to avoid a scene today and had scheduled a tea party for the children away from worried parents. “You look pretty in your picnic dress, cupcake.”

She smiled and looped her arm around his neck for an impromptu hug. His heart leaped to choke him. This had been a while coming. She had been so frightened of him when they had first met. His bear roared. His potent fury fired Rhys’s blood and demanded freedom to shift. Calm the fuck down. His bear grumbled but settled. They placed the blame for the shitstorm they were in on Alrik’s shoulders. Rhys was still mopping up his messes while discovering new ones.

Striding out the Italian-style De Winter hold, he didn’t spare the fine architecture much attention. The volutes, overly tall pillars, the rich gold sconces, and framed portraits done by famous artists didn’t suit him. He preferred the rustic charm of the lodge with its thick rugs, solid furniture strong enough to handle his bulk, and the large kitchen that dominated the space. Shifters loved food.

Alrik had drained the pack’s coffers, but through careful strategizing, they were on their way to recovering, now able to provide for each shifter family. Investments were Rhys’s current focus. The money they had wouldn’t last. He needed to ensure what they did have would remain consistent for generations to come.

“I’m blind.” Jase threw an arm across his face. “So much pink. My powers…they’re leaking…I’m melting.”

George giggled, burying her face in Rhys’s neck.

“He’s just jealous, cupcake.” He nuzzled her hair with his chin. “Ask Callie to make Jase a pink T-shirt for next time.”

George held a finger to her lips. “Our secret.” She raised her arms for Jase to take her.

He did, swinging her before buckling her in. They kept up a steady chat, their heads dipped together. Jase sitting in the back forced the pal’tsy into the front passenger seat. The man didn’t show his opinion in any way. Still, as big as Rhys was, he wouldn’t test the vamp’s skills. Restrained power, that of a coiled snake, poured off the man.

As soon as Rhys steered onto the road, the man lowered the window, flooding the SUV with fresh air. His twitching nose said it all. To suckbloods, shifters stank like wet fur as Callie had tried to explain.

Rhys grimaced at yet another reason why she wasn’t his mate, not anymore. She had survived the vamp conversion and had come out of it more powerful than expected. All he could hope for was friendship, trust, but that wasn’t why he went to so much effort for George. Her situation was at Alrik’s hands, and therefore, Rhys’s responsibility to deal with. If he could reunite her with her brothers, he would chalk that up to a success.

The pack lodges were on the outskirts of the city. They relocated every fifty years or so when the expanding city boundaries began to encroach on their privacy. Hiding their abilities had been harder when superstition ruled men’s hearts. Three years ago their existence became public knowledge. Rhys had considered not relocating and perhaps ring-fencing their properties. Rebuilding cost money, and it meant starting fresh.

As it was, he had men on patrol since snapping a photo of them shifting was a sought-after commodity for the local media. A few armed weirdos had trespassed on their land intent on doing them harm. Other ‘visitors’ were desperate women hoping to become shifters especially around the Lunar Festivals each month. The mutation gene was in the blood at birth, no human or vamp could be converted to shifter without it. There were stories told of attempts made. All failed. Callie becoming a suckblood was for the best. She would have remained human as Rhys’s mate despite the frequent biting during sex, despite his blood flowing through hers, despite the primal connection between their souls. She would have been his mate until her natural death which would be decades before he could follow. And those decades would have been in solitude. Shifters mated for life.

The human police had too much on their plates to deal with these trespassers. It had taken this long for the government to agree to draft laws with the old alpha, Silas McDermott, who’d volunteered as spokesman. He’d stepped down from his position of alpha, an unheard of occurrence, with his pack’s new alpha voted in—also unusual. Colt, Rabidhide’s alpha, had done well since then.

There was talk of allowing shifters to manage their security. Any trespassers or crimes committed against a shifter would be dealt with internally. The problem was with the alpha. If he was like Alrik, the punishment would be death, no matter the crime.

Stopping in front of the lodge, Rhys leaped out of the car to open George’s door. Jase had unbuckled her, but she didn’t move, peeking around Rhys at the waiting children. Her pale blue eyes widened, and the sickly stench of fear tainted the air with an orange blue.

He dipped his head to meet her gaze. “Cupcake, Callie told me how brave you were when that nasty suckblood captured her. Are the cubs scarier than him?”

She shook her head, flinging her curls wild. “Oh, no, Uncle Rhys.” Still, she hesitated. “What if they don’t like me?”

“Sugarplum, everyone will love you. Besides, I’m invited to the picnic too.” Jase grinned, holding out his hand. “You can sit next to me.”

She giggled and placed her hands in his. “You can’t. You’ll eat all the cake.”

“Only a little. Okay, no cake for me.” He drew her from the car, tossed her into the air, and caught her. As a brown bear, he had the strength to. He carried her to the strewn blankets with the cubs and pups chasing each other.

“Wonderful.” Brianne, the resident kindergarten teacher, skipped across the lawn.

Rhys blinked and hid a smirk. He’d never seen Brianne do that, and he supposed she did so now to charm George. His heart swelled with pride, that Brianne would go to this much effort to welcome George. As a member of the Knights Ridge pack, she had heard of George’s tragic situation. As a cub minder, she had brought to Rhys’s attention that George needed interaction with children, shifter or human.

Rhys’s nail in the coffin had been along those lines, and as new parents, Callie and Gabe had caved. Dimitri had been harder to convince. Hence the presence of his pal’tsy. No one knew how many he had trained, but they moved like panthers—merging with the shadows, lethal in their strikes, and silent.

Jase lowered George to the grass, but she kept a white-knuckled grip on his denims. When George shuffled forward, so did the pal’tsy.

Brianne ignored him and dipped to whisper in the girl’s ear. “We’re so excited to meet you, Georgy. Rhys said I could go crazy, so there’s cake, cookies, tea, soda, and tons of sweets.”

George squealed. “Pizza? Hotdogs? Candy?” She clapped her hands and lunged for Brianne’s offered hand.

The children engulfed her, asking too many questions as they touched her clothes with their grubby paws.

“I’ll stay here, Rhys.” Jase folded his arms across his chest. “Noah’s handling alpha business. Why don’t you take a nap or something?”

“As my beta, he can handle only so much before he too will be overwhelmed.” Rhys chuckled. “But thanks, grandma, for urging me to nap.”

“Rhys, look at you. You’re exhausted. Noah worries you don’t rest enough, and overdoing it isn’t helping the pack. We need you at your best.”

Rhys’s bear grumbled, skittering goosebumps along his skin and raising the hair at the back of his neck. He’s not saying we’re not capable of doing the job, bear. Neither is he challenging us for alpha. What the fuck has gotten into you?

“…just for a few days, is all,” Jase continued, unaware his alpha almost shredded his throat.

“Days?” Rhys faced him, aware he loomed.

Bending backward, Jase threw up his hands. “Take a break, visit Aiden in Coedwig, run through the forests, and give your bear free rein.”

Shit, that did sound amazing. To not worry Rhys might be photographed or shot, to sleep in without having to deal with pack business, and to visit with his carefree brother working in another town?

He sighed. Exhaustion saturated every cell as his human bones bore the weight of his bear. “Whose idea was this?”

“Noah’s, but to breach the subject with you, I drew the short straw.” Jase grimaced. “Don’t kill the messenger.”

“Organize it, and I’ll go.”

A bright grin split Jase’s cheeks. “You mean, I don’t die today?”

Noah slipped from the shadowed porch into the sunlight, nodding at Rhys.

“Maybe next time.” Chuckling, he swiped a cookie, dropped a kiss onto George’s dark head then joined Noah to attend to pack business.