Sigma

Chapter 1

Sam set Sugar’s small pink suitcase in the trunk and slammed it shut. Love sucked. No matter what Sam did in a relationship, he got screwed. If he loved a woman, she wasn’t interested. Or worse, she fell in love with someone else.

Not that he blamed Sugar, his only human friend, for breaking his heart years ago. Who could compete with a Nosferatu vampire warrior? Not him.

The Omegas, his small pack of friends, had hired Daedalus to teach them how to fight over two years ago. The Nosferatu could twist Sam into a pretzel, dip him in hot sauce, and have him for dinner without breaking a sweat. His kind was a different class of vampire, more monster, less human. Considering Sam could lift a mini van over his head showed the vampire’s strength and skill. Sometimes he wondered if Sugar was the only reason Daedalus hadn’t eaten him yet.

His inner beast grumbled, sulking in the corners of his mind. Ever since Sugar had been attacked on his watch, when Katrina’s old werewolf pack from China had broken into their home, his animal nature didn’t seem interested in the outside world. Even when he shifted to his beast form, it remained distant, not sharing in the hunt, or even sex.

His love for the human female had faded over the years and transformed into something more brotherly, but the rejection still ached. Every woman he’d been involved with took off. Some base instinct kept him from caring about anyone new and he was tired of it. Shit, even his beast couldn’t stand hanging around him anymore.

All his roommates had shacked up, but he still slept in an empty bed, the one-night-stand wonder. Fuckable, but not worth loving. Better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all. He tried to believe…

The rehabilitation center night security guard let him park his car in front of the entrance, since Sugar was being discharged. Six weeks in physical rehabilitation, yet she still couldn’t move her left side. The scans showed she’d suffered a stroke after the attack, something that could happen to trauma patients, even young ones.

Daedalus, her vampire lover, was supposed to be picking Sugar up. That’s why they’d arranged a late night discharge, but the vampire had vanished, leaving a note for Sam to take care of Sugar. The asshole didn’t need to write an or else on his message. It was implied. Sam rubbed his temples, his pulse pounding, the sure sign a migraine would be paying him a visit soon.

He and Daedalus had never been on the best of terms. The vampire had discarded Sam when he first started training the pack to fight, and focused only on Eric as alpha. The vampire had known Sam’s feelings for Sugar, yet had still stolen her away. Now, the bloodsucker could barely look at him. Daedalus blamed him for Sugar’s injuries.

The vampire was right, though. It was Sam’s fault. He was Sugar’s Sigma. Spice, his pack’s female alpha and Sugar’s twin, had charged him with shadowing her sister. Not every pack owned a Sigma, not every pack needed one. They protected the innocent or the weak, like orphaned pups or the elderly, who had no children to care for them. In his case, he took care of their token human.

He strolled through the corridor of the rehab center, his footsteps echoing in the quiet, and he waved at the nurses. One offered him an inviting smile. Something he would have pursued a few weeks ago. However, his interest in humans had waned. Too fragile for a shifter.

Light streamed from Sugar’s room and he stuck his head through the open doorway. The place smelled of disinfectant, but Spice and Katrina had done a great job of making the room look homey. Thick blankets lay on the bed and a stack of books on the bedside table. They’d even hung pictures of the pack on the wall.

He sighed. “I didn’t think to bring a box to pack her belongings.” The pack should choose someone else as Sugar’s Sigma. He could barely take care of himself.

“No worries.” The young nurse helping Sugar sit on the edge of the bed smiled at him. “I’ll pack her things and someone can come pick them up tomorrow.”

Daedalus hadn’t spared any expense on Sugar’s recovery–private center, the best doctors, and her own nurse. Still, the Nosferatu should be here to take Sugar home. That’s what mattered to her.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, Sugar supported her limp left arm in a sling as the nurse attached the heel brace on her left ankle. Sugar glanced at him and a huge lopsided grin spread across her face.

His heart skipped a beat. The stroke she’d suffered after the attack hadn’t affected any of her true beauty. She contained an inner light that wasn’t affected by her trauma.

“Hey.” He couldn’t stop from returning the silly grin. The original pack members were waiting at the brownstone for her return with an intimate surprise party.

“Hey.” Her gaze wandered away from his as she checked behind him. “I’m almost ready. Daedalus couldn’t make it?”

He shook his head. He could make excuses for the vampire, but stayed silent.

Her smile faded a little. “That’s okay. Me and you always manage to have fun together no matter what.” She tried to hide her hurt feelings, but he’d known Sugar long enough to see through the veil of cheer.

The nurse set the wheelchair next to her and locked it.

Sugar reached for the far armrest with her good hand and shifted her weight to the edge of the bed.

His heart dropped and he stepped forward, ready to lift her in his arms, but the nurse gave him a don’t-you-dare look over Sugar’s head.

With halted grace, Sugar shuffled onto the chair and settled her paralyzed limbs. He understood the need for her independence, but it destroyed a piece of his soul each time he watched her move.

He forced his hands to relax. Nosferatu warrior or not, he would have some things to say to Daedalus about this, even if the vampire could tie him into a pretty bow for crossing him.

She straightened her light sweater. “I’m ready.”

“Then let’s do it, boss.” He steered the wheelchair out of the room and zoomed down the hall. As he passed the nurses’ station, he popped a wheelie with her chair.

She squealed in delight. The sound eased the tight knot in his gut. He didn’t care what the doctors said about Sugar’s poor recovery. She had options most humans didn’t have. Living with a pack of shifters and having a vampire fiance, Sugar could choose to become either one and heal.

They just needed to convince her.

He parked the chair by his car and opened the passenger door. His need to care for her would suffocate him, but he didn’t cradle her in his arms like his instincts cried for him to.

She held out her hand. “Let’s dance.” Somehow she always knew what to say or do to ease the suffering of those around her. This was another of those moments.

“How?” He took her delicate fingers in his hand. She’d done all her occupational therapy with Daedalus or Spice. He didn’t know how to help.

“Place my hand on your shoulder. Then support my hips, especially my left side.”

Following her directions, they ended up standing face to face. Her body pressed against his. He cleared his throat. “Daedalus will tear my hands off if he hears about this.”

“He won’t. If he wanted to dance, then he’d be here.” Her smile took the edge off her words. “Now, shuffle your feet with mine as we turn, then sit me in the car.”

“It would be easier if you’d let me carry you around.”

“This is more fun.”

Guilt still shadowed his soul. He set her on the seat. “Sug…I wish you’d reconsider–”

She pressed her fingers to his mouth. “No. My physiotherapist thinks I’ll be on crutches by the end of the month.” She lifted her left leg into the car. “Is this why Daedalus sent you? To sweet talk me into becoming a vampire?”

He sighed. “No…maybe.” Chuckling, he shook his head. He wouldn’t put it past Daedalus to have arranged this pick-up for that reason. “He never actually asked me to do it.”

Leaving the wheelchair with the guard, Sam jumped into the driver’s seat and prayed his car would start. Maybe he should have borrowed someone else’s vehicle. Cranking the key, he listened to the whine and pumped the gas pedal three times. Four would flood the engine and two was never enough to turn it. The motor roared to life as black smoke spewed from the tail pipe.

“Why don’t you buy another car?”

“Babe, this is a classic.”

“You can afford something better. I know the pack has you watching over me during the day for Daedalus.”

He twisted in his seat. “You do?” So much for being sneaky.

“You’re my Sigma. Spice explained it to me.” She touched his cheek with her fingertips. “You’re always so sad and angry around me lately.”

He blinked, then geared the car into drive. Pulling out of the parking lot, he remained silent.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.” She fiddled with the edge of her sweater.

Shoulders sagging, Sam sighed. “I’m the one who should be sorry, Sug. I’m saving my money.” Without having to look, he could sense her perking interest by her scent.

“For what?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. A rainy day?” A house of his own would be nice. Maybe he’d meet the right female and want to buy her a ring. Glancing at Sugar, his heart ached, but it didn’t last long. He’d once thought he’d met that special someone, but now he had moved on.

“Does this rainy day have a name?” Teasing humor laced her question.

“Not yet. I’m still hunting.” He grinned. It would be nice having Sugar home again. She was the heart of their family. The place had echoed with emptiness in her absence.

“Oh Sam, women aren’t prey. One-night-stands are not the way to find love. That’s like taste testing at the supermarket. You need to slow down and enjoy the meal.”

His stomach grumbled at the mention of food. There would be a ton at home. “If I recall right, you and Daedalus didn’t wait. Right into the cooking pot.”

She gazed out her window. “And look where I am.”

Sam’s gut clenched. “He would have been here. I’m sure of it.” He swallowed around a lump in his throat. The vampire had better have a good reason for hurting her. She’d suffered enough and shouldn’t be made to feel like a burden. “Something really big must have come up, end of the world proportions, for him to have missed tonight.”

“Something bad…”

He took the on-ramp for the interstate, reaching for her hand, but a car shot past him and cut him off. He swerved into the next lane to avoid a collision, barely missing the vehicle. “Asshole!”

Sugar clung to the chicken bar above her head, but didn’t utter a word.

With both hands on the wheel, he sped and maneuvered next to the car.

A woman with short brown curls spoke into a cellphone, oblivious to them, as she clutched her steering wheel with a white knuckled grip. She kept glancing at her review mirror, her eyes wide and frantic.

Sam’s boiling blood cooled to a simmer. He didn’t need to smell her to sense her fear. He checked his own mirror.

A black sedan tailed her. The back window on the driver’s side lowered and a man leaned out.

“What is he doing?” He glanced over his shoulder to make sure he’d seen right. The guy held a rifle. “Duck!” He shoved Sugar down, bending her in half, and then slammed on his brakes to let the gunman pass.

Sugar struggled under his hand. “Get off me.”

The gunshot split the night air. The rear window of the car driven by the woman shattered into shards, scattering on the highway.

Using her good arm, Sugar swatted Sam’s grip on her neck and pulled herself upright. “Are they shooting at her?”

“Yeah.” He fumbled his cell out of his jean pocket. “Can you call nine-one-one?”

“Why are you slowing down?” She pointed at the car chase ahead of them on the almost empty interstate. “You’re Sigma, you’re supposed to protect. Go help her.”

“No.” Sam tossed the cell on her lap. “I’m your Sigma.”

“Then you’re fired.” She slapped her hand against the dash. “Go.” Her voice cut like sharp glass. “Can you really turn your back on someone in need?” She pointed to her chest. “I can’t. Move this rust bucket.”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” He shoved the gas pedal to the floor. “Daedalus is going to tan my hide and use me as a throw rug.”

“Never mind him.” She waved her hand in the air, as if dismissing the thought of her lover.

Clementine’s car wouldn’t go any faster. She’d bought the piece-of-shit from a second-hand dealer for cash so she wouldn’t leave a paper trail for Pal Robi to follow. She glanced at her review mirror again.

Unlike the ancient vampires’ unbeating hearts, her young undead pulse galloped. How had they found her? “I can’t shake ’em.” Her cellphone lay on the passenger seat now with her master on speaker.

“Take the next exit. I’m not far and on an intercept course. Evade them at all cost until we meet. I’ll take care of them then.”

The back window shattered with a loud shot. “Jesus!” She swerved the car toward the shoulder, keeping her head low, and regained control before hitting the cement wall. “I’m not trained for this.” Being a vampire didn’t mean being immortal as most humans thought. The older the vampire, the better they healed, but at her mere one hundred and twelve years, a big hole in her head could kill her. Or worse, leave her in a zombie-like state.

“Drive, Clementine,” her master yelled over the phone before it slid off the seat.

She was doing her best. They didn’t teach car chase driving to accountants at Pal Robi. She left that yahoo crap to the ones who wanted risks.

The screech of tires grabbed her attention. She glanced back. Another car chased her. Great. Let’s have a parade.

It squeezed between her and the gunman’s car. What the hell? She squinted at the mirror. Had she seen that hunk of junk before? It was the same one she’d almost collided with upon merging on the interstate.

“Master? There are two cars now.”

“I need that thumb drive.” He sounded furious.

Cold sweat beaded over her skin. It slicked her palms where she gripped the steering wheel. “I know. I know.”

She’d been so careful following her master’s directions. She had still let him down. No one was supposed to know she’d stolen the data. She jerked in her seat as one of the cars bumped hers.

Struggling to maintain control, she passed a sign announcing the next exit in one mile. She chewed her bottom lip, almost puncturing it with a fang. “I’m at the exit. What now?”

“There’s a wooded park to the north. Ditch the car and run. Take the phone. I’ll be there within minutes.”

“North? Which way is north?” She crunched numbers for a living. She didn’t have an internal compass.

“Make a right at the lights. And don’t wait for it to turn green. Blow through it.”

She could add racing a car through Chicago, being shot at, and corporate espionage to her resume after this week.

She’d offered her master loyalty in exchange for safety all those decades ago.

This was not safe.