Prima

Chapter One

The drone of machine guns and alien death cries jammed Daedalus's vampire senses. Eric and Sam, two of his wolf shifter roommates, were busy trying to save the world one video game at a time.

Daedalus sat on the couch, ankles and arms crossed, facing the living room doorway, not the television. Faces scrunched in concentration, the boys pushed past enemy lines to gain entry onto the rival base. He couldn't immerse himself in fantasy like they could. Games gave Daedalus no satisfaction, but watching the shifters’ reactions stirred ancient memories. He'd been in real battles and forged through enemy hordes to gain territories centuries ago. Now, he trained Vasi shifters to fight, but even that hobby was growing tedious.

The other shifters who lived under the roof waited for their turns to slaughter aliens, hooting and shouting at the television as if the electronics could actually hear them. Twelve in total lived in Sugar's brownstone. They'd added two pups to their family in the last year. Shifters loved close quarters.

He didn't.

They didn't truly need him anymore. The ragtag band of shifters he'd come to save had grown into the largest pack in Chicago. Eric, their alpha, could assign Robert or Sam, his beta and sigma, to take over the training. He clenched his jaw and shot a glare down the hall at the closed bedroom door. The only thing that anchored him here was Sugar, and she had taken to the annoying habit of going to bed early every night, so he barely saw her anymore.

A knock on their front door silenced the shifters. He wasn’t sure how any of them heard it even with their exceptional hearing.

Eric checked his cellphone and shook his head. “Shouldn’t be for me. I haven’t had a call all night.” As alpha, most late-night calls were for him, and the pack knew better than to show up on game night uninvited.

Turning off the video game, Sam followed his alpha to the door while the others took defensible position within the household. A swell of pride at their unspoken synchronicity filled Daedalus's empty chest.

He uncrossed his legs and leaned forward. A little over a year ago their home had been attacked by a rival shifter pack. Everyone had recovered from the fight except Sugar, their human friend and the love of his existence. Her injuries had scarred the pack for life. Security in the household had tightened even more since the birth of the pups.

Remaining in his chair by the far wall of the living room, he had a full view of the entrance. Centuries of experience became reflexive. Never expose your back, and always have an escape route planned. He assessed the familiar layout of the room and what moves he could use within that space.

Eric hesitated by the front door and glanced over his shoulder at Daedalus, the unasked question Are you ready? in the way he quirked his eyebrow.

Daedalus nodded.

Opening the door, Eric remained transfixed to the spot, his eyes growing wide.

Sam leaned over to get a better look and blocked Daedalus’s view. “Wow.”

Gritting his teeth, Daedalus rose. “Who the fuck is it?”

“Your friend?” Sam stepped aside. “I hope. Should we let him in?”

“No—” But Daedalus was too late.

The visitor shoved the shifters aside, crossing the threshold of their home and met Daedalus’s stare.

Sweat beaded on Daedalus’s forehead. Shit, he wasn’t carrying a wooden stake. He’d have to break one of the chairs again. Sugar would be pissed. She’d purchased them last week.

He hadn’t seen another Nosferatu in decades. Their guest had as much fighting skill as he did. They'd been made Nosferatu around the same time and been in the same training camp. “Pallas,” Daedalus whispered.

His brother by clan had probably noted each person’s position in the room and made out their weaknesses already. It’s what he would have done.

Daedalus moved to a better position in the room so he could defend the shifters if the need arose. They didn’t have a fighting chance against Pallas. “Everyone, this is Pallas, one of my clan brothers. Pallas, this is everyone.” He gestured to his housemates, purposely not identifying them. There was power in names.

“We need to speak.” Pallas’s gaze darted to Eric. “In private.”

The alpha growled low in his chest, looming over the shorter Pallas.

With a sour taste in his mouth, Daedalus waved Pallas toward the kitchen. “Outside in the garden.” His clan brother had gone into a deep sleep three centuries ago when the great vampire wars ended. They’d once been friends. Someone had awoken him. What were the chances this was good news?

Daedalus didn’t want to invite Pallas to his room in the basement. It was cramped quarters, leaving little room to fight, and he didn’t want his collection of NFL memorabilia to sustain any damage. Some of those things were priceless. Leading Pallas through the house, Daedalus sensed the shifters’ gazes on his back.

As soon as he closed the sliding glass door shut, he’d bet his bank account that his conversation with Pallas would only have a pretense of privacy. Shifter hearing could be miraculous, especially when pressed to cracked-open windows. The distant sound of a chair clattering to the floor in the dining room reached his own sensitive hearing. He could picture his housemates scrambling to find the best places to eavesdrop.

Pallas strode to the center of the moonlit garden. “So the rumors are true. You’ve lost your mind.”

Daedalus chuckled. The other Nosferatu hadn’t changed. They’d been close once. “Maybe. I wish the one about you was true.”

Pallas spun around. “Which one?”

“You being dead.”

“That would be too convenient.” A familiar crooked smile bloomed on his ugly face.

Daedalus laughed louder and shook Pallas’s hand, squeezing his fingers together as hard as he could. “You’re such an ass.” Bearer of bad news or not, he was still a brother, a tie to his past, and a comrade at arms.

Pallas returned his strong grip. “I learned from the best.” His clan brother, and he used that term loosely since they weren’t born from the same parents, bore the trademark appearance of their people—bald, pale, and deadly. “You’re creating quite a stir in the council, enough for them to coerce me to wake and seek you out.”

They released the painful handshake, and Daedalus shook his numb fingers, grinning as Pallas did the same. “You can tell them, for once, I’m happy.”

He snorted. “Like they care. I can’t believe you’re living with shifters again.” He made a distasteful noise. “Nasty habit. They said you left your post.”

“I did, and I left it in good hands.” Then the fools were killed and the traitors who took over tried to have him assassinated, but Pallas didn’t need to know that.

“Your company is in chaos. I went there before arriving here.”

“No.” Pal Robi Inc. was his private security company, hence it being named after him. What better than hiring an almost indestructible vampire as a guard? The company also served as a front for the vampire political structure in his area. Vampires had revealed themselves, with the other supernatural creatures, to humans fifteen years ago. Vampires were expected to follow human laws and their government, but vampire society had had these things in place long before humans had figured out how to organize themselves. The Vampire Council didn’t expect their people to follow human laws, but Pal Robi Inc. was developed to give his people legal jobs and to police their hunting. In other words, if a vampire couldn’t feed without killing, it was his responsibility to stop that person before humans were aware of it. “I didn’t assign those who presently think they are running my company.”

Pallas sighed. “Are they under your command?” He gave Daedalus a pointed stare. “Currently.”

“No.” Daedalus shrugged. “How much damage can they do? The last thing they want is to draw the Council’s attention. I haven’t truly lost control.”

“Your estate is abandoned.”

“It’s not abandoned. I dispersed my staff to other tasks, and there’s a shifter house sitter. You probably scared the shit out of him.” He’d have to call Stephen and check on him. The young shifter didn't like company, let alone drop-ins from hell.

“A little scare never killed anyone. The council wants you to straighten things out at Pal Robi Inc. and return to your post as Prime. Things are falling apart in the area.”

An alien sourness curdled his stomach. He examined the odd sensation and decided he didn’t like the source. “Or what?” This visit was expected. Not Pallas himself but someone the council would send. The Prime kept the peace among vampirekind in his area. Sort of like a sheriff. If those traitors hadn’t been so greedy and tried to kill him, things would still be fine.

“They’ll make me kill everyone at Pal Robi Inc…” Pallas’s gaze wandered to the house, “…and here.”

“Do you think you can defeat me?” It had been ages since he’d fought one of his own kind. Living among the Vasi pack had softened him.

A hard shield fell over Pallas’s eyes. “Yes.”

Sugar’s eyes snapped open. A sharp noise like a chair hitting the floor had woken her from a deep slumber. She searched the room, but nothing moved and her bed remained empty.

She let her head flop back on the pillow. Daedalus hadn’t joined her yet. She’d tried to stay awake, but with each passing day she grew weaker. She punched the mattress with her good arm. She needed to schedule later or longer naps, like the pups, so she could spend more time with Daedalus at night.

The silence in the house that followed the loud clatter gave her the creeps. Where were the others? They hadn’t discussed going out. Most of them held day jobs and needed to be up early in the morning. Lately they’d been playing that crazy alien shooting game every night.

She swore Eric and Sam dreamt about the video game.

Rising from her bed took some skill. She’d been in a rehab center after her stroke for weeks to learn how to take care of herself. Even though she had seven roommates, a twin sister, and a vampire fiancé all willing to dote on her every whim, she fought them off. She would take care of her basic needs or die trying.

She strapped her leg brace to her partially paralyzed left leg and tucked her useless left arm in the pocket of her robe. It bothered her to see it swing at her side like a dead limb. Her cane rested against the nightstand within reach of her good right hand.

Limping toward the kitchen, she hesitated at the entrance and blinked. Everyone had their ears plastered to the walls or windows, out of sight of the sliding glass door. Katrina was even perched over the kitchen sink, peeking through a crack in the curtain. What the hell was going on in Sugar’s garden?

Spice, her identical twin, crouched on her hands and knees between Eric’s legs as they both listened by the sliding glass doors. “What council are they talking about?” Spice whispered.

Sugar took a few steps into the kitchen, but everyone seemed so focused on what was happening in the yard they didn’t notice her approach. “Who’s outside?”

Spice jumped so high, she slammed Eric in the joy sack with the back of her head.

He crumpled to the ground next to her, moaning into her lap.

“Oh, honey, I’m so sorry.” Spice stroked his head.

“No prob, sweetie.” He managed to speak between his noises of misery. “My testicles always wanted to meet my tonsils.”

Spice shot Sugar an annoyed look. “You should be in bed.”

“With all the other babies?” She drew closer to the door and saw Daedalus speaking with a bald man. The stranger tilted his head, and she glimpsed the pointed ears all Nosferatu bore. Another vampire. That’s all she needed in her home, more supernatural beings. “Who’s that?”

“Pallas, D’s brother,” Sam whispered.

Tyler gasped. “He’s threatening to kill us!” With one swift movement, he scooped Katrina from her perch. “Go to the pups’ room. Stay there until we figure out what’s going on with Daedalus and his bro.” He gave her a little shove out of the kitchen.

Both Katrina and Spice’s babies shared a nursery at the end of the hall. The mothers raced to the room. The sound of material tearing followed as they shifted to their beast forms.

The blood drained from Sugar’s face. Another attack?

Eric and the others huddled by the kitchen table, discussing plans in low voices.

Taking a steadying breath, she slid the glass door open and continued her limping journey outside. There would be no more bloodshed in her home. Her cane was made of wood. She’d stake this stranger herself before he harmed her family.

His gaze broke from Daedalus and widened at her presence. “You keep a human in your home. That’s very…modern of you.”

Daedalus twisted, his eyes narrowing. “This isn’t a good time, Sugar.”

It wasn’t ever a good time for them anymore. When they did find a moment together, she and Daedalus spent it arguing.

Ignoring the two vampires, she used the tip of her cane to poke the stranger. “There will be no violence in this home, do you understand me?”

He stared at his chest then back at her with a raised eyebrow. “Will you stop me?”

“No. You’ll do it because I’m saying please.”

A startled laugh broke from the hard line of his mouth. “What befalls your home depends on what your master decides.”

She grunted with surprise. “What century are you from? No one has masters anymore.” Who was this woman using her voice? The terror that had eaten at her soul throughout her life no longer seemed present. She poked at the empty spot it had left within her and realized she had nothing left to fear. If this monster killed her, then her suffering would be over, and Daedalus could find a better life than being her nursemaid.

Her fiancé set his arm around her shoulders, something he used to do often but not so much since her return home. His arm felt heavy and solid. He always made her feel safe. Even though they lived together, she missed him and how they used to be. Daedalus guided the tip of the cane back to the ground. “Let’s not kill Pallas right away. He still has his uses.” He pressed a kiss on her head.

She tossed a look over her shoulder where the pack in beast form had poured out the door onto the patio. If the neighbors were watching, there’d be more notes in her mailbox. “Can we move this inside and keep it civil?”

Pallas gave her a short bow and returned to her home.

She elbowed Daedalus in his solid gut. “You never said you had family.” He hardly ever spoke about his past. After three years, she would have expected to know this at least.

“What?”

“They said he’s your brother.” She pointed at the shifters escorting Pallas inside.

“Oh, not by blood, but by vampire clan. I told you that turning females into Nosferatu only kills them, so my clan is a type of brotherhood.”

A familiar throb returned to her temples, and she shrugged his arm off. “Why is he threatening to kill us then?”

“Vampire blackmail tactics. They work remarkably well.”

She frowned. How could he be so nonchalant about a threat on their lives? What could Pallas possibly want from them? Unless… “Who does he want you to kill?”

Daedalus flinched. “Why do you jump to that conclusion?”

“What else would he want? It’s what you’re good at.” The words came out her mouth before she could stop them. Damn it. Daedalus killed. It was a fact she couldn’t seem to live with. They’d been round and round this barbed subject so many times she had scars on her scars. He probably owned as many. Saying sorry just didn’t mean the same after the amount of arguments they’d had. He knew she’d be lying because once again she’d tossed her stupid high morals at him. They stared at each other as the canyon between their hearts grew wider. What was a few more inches when they had miles to bridge?

Daedalus leaned close enough that she’d only have to go on tiptoe to kiss him. Her broken heart ached that she couldn’t manage even that simple task. His blue eyes had gone dark. “He represents the seat of power of my people. They want me to stop neglecting my duties and return to my position.” He smirked, but it didn’t hide the hurt in his voice. “Please, try to remember that I have more skills than just killing. I am Prime of this part of North America, and I haven’t been a very good one since I’ve met you. I’ll take care of Pallas, just like I do everything else.” Daedalus stormed into the house, leaving her to limp back alone.

She stared at the uneven ground and ignored the heaviness pressed against her chest. He had finally given her the space and independence she craved, and it stung.