Alpha’s Secret: A Bear Shifter Romance (Bad Boy Alphas Book 10)

Grizz

My cell rings just as I climb onto my bike. I answer with a grunt.

“Where have you been?” Parker snaps. “I’ve been fielding calls all day from the wolf pack. They want to know when you’re returning to the Fight Club to collect the package you left.”

“On my way right now. Meet me there. I need your car to transport the package.”

Trey is waiting for me by the back door when I roll up.

“You here to collect the leech?”

“Yep.” I resist the urge to lift the dumpster lid and check on Benny. Don’t want him burning to death too soon. “Just waiting on transport.”

Trey offers me a beer while I wait. At my startled expression he shrugs. “You threw a match. Won the pack a ton of money. I think everyone’s pretty much forgiven you. Everyone but Caleb. He wanted to beat your ass.”

“That bear has too much crazy in him. It would’ve been bloody.”

“Who was that redhead, anyway?”

I shake my head. The fewer people know who Jordy is, the better. I know there’s another fox shifter in town—or at least half fox. She’s mated to one of the wolves, but things are too hot to introduce them. Keeping Jordy safe is way more important than building her social life.

“Wouldn’t have guessed there’s anyone in the world you cared about,” Trey muses.

So much for hiding my feelings. Fates, I gotta figure out what to do with Jordy.

“If I needed safe passage for someone out of town, could the wolves provide it?”

His eyes light. “A favor?”

I swallow my pride. “Yeah.”

He stares a moment, then shakes his head. “No favor required. Not if you’re helping someone out of the goodness of your heart.”

A day ago I’d say I was helping Jordy for the benefit of my dick. Now, I’m not so sure.

We wait in silence. The white Camaro appears as the last fingers of daylight loosen their grip on the mountains.

Trey and I load Benny’s still body into the trunk of the Camaro to the soundtrack of Parker’s griping.

“This is a new car! Well, new-ish. We just got it cleaned!”

I slam down the hood, silencing the complaints. “See ya around,” I say to Trey.

“Yeah,” the werewolf rubs the back of his neck, slaps the trunk, and disappears into the Fight Club. If everything goes right, I might not be back here again.

If everything goes wrong, I’ll be dead.

“Grizz? Ya ready or what?” Declan calls.

“Yeah.” I pivot on my boot and point to Laurie. “You take my bike. The rest of you, into the car.” I tromp to the driver’s side and glare at Parker until he scrambles out of the seat.

The club looms in the rearview mirror until I turn out of the parking lot and gun it, ignoring the further protests of the shifter Stooges.

No more nostalgia.

I’ve got vampires to catch, and a murderer to kill.

“Where are we going?” Declan asks.

“Frangelico.”

There’s a flurry of frantic activity in the back seat. “We can’t go there! He’ll kill us!”

“Pull over,” Declan shouts, grabbing the wheel.

I do. “What the fuck?”

Laurie and Parker are already out on the sidewalk.

“We made a bet that you’d win the fight.”

“So?”

“So we might have borrowed a wee bit of money to do it.”

I sigh. “And you borrowed from Frangelico. You don’t need me to tell you that was fucking stupid.”

“You were supposed to win the match!”

My hands tighten on the steering wheel. I gotta get Benny to Frangelico now. Every second that passes is another chance for the one-eyed vampire to get away.

“Get in the car,” I order. “I’ll put a word in with Frangelico for you.”

“Really?” Parker perks up. “You’d do that?”

“He won’t kill you on my watch. Won’t even bleed you.” They’ll just be in his debt, which is arguably worse.

We pull up to the mansion and I park in front of the gate.

“Tell Laurie to park my bike out here,” I order before exiting and grabbing Benny out of the trunk. The sucker gurgles as I arrange him over my shoulder. He better not drool blood on me.

“And you’ll talk to Frangelico about our debt?”

“Yep.” I wave without looking back. I flag the attention of a lookout camera and tip Benny into view.

The gates creak open and I jog up the hill. Benny feels lighter. Loss of blood? Vampire anatomy is so weird.

This time, no guards greet me at the front door. The king trusts me. Or he’s impatient to get his claws into Benny. Or fangs.

“Don’t envy you, sucker,” I mutter to the unconscious vampire as the front door swings open.

Frangelico appears in the foyer, dressed in jeans and a white button-down shirt. It’s the most casual I’ve seen him. “Is this for me?” He rolls up his shirt sleeves. I’m about to point out that white is a bad color for what we’re about to do when Benny gurgles and jerks. The stake falls out and my burden starts to thrash.

“Shit, he’s waking up.”

Frangelico is by my side in a flash. Literally. I didn’t see him move. He didn’t even blur. Shit, fast vampire! My defenses stutter while Frangelico grabs his sired.

“Shh, I got you,” the king croons as if he’s holding his child. Which, in a way, he is. Benny’s eyes flutter and land on the king’s face, where they widen in terror. A moan breaks from the smaller vampire when he realizes who’s holding him.

“Good evening, Benedict,” Frangelico says in the fucking creepy crooning voice of his. “Have you been a bad boy?”

I turn away before I barf, just in time to miss Frangelico breaking Benny’s arm. The lesser vampire screams, but the king just lifts him. “Get the door, will you?” Frangelico asks me and I scramble. “We’ll finish this in the dungeon.”

It takes less than an hour for Benny to break. Usually I’d get involved, but the way Frangelico tortures his own is too much for me. I’ve given plenty of beatings—taken them too—but Frangelico uses both emotional torment and physical pain that’s beyond what I can stand. Plus his dungeon is full of medieval torture devices—actually from the Middle Ages. Fucking creepy. Benny thinks so, too, because he spills everything about the coup against Frangelico and all the players involved. Pretty much all of Frangelico’s sired were planning to overthrow him. When he finds that out, Frangelico drops all pretense about caring for Benny, and gets really cruel.

I almost pity the vampire victim. But then Benny screams something out about “Augustine’s fox.”

“What was that?” I lean closer to Benny’s face. No need to look down his body at what Frangelico’s doing.

“Augustine has a pet. He said you took her. He said he needed her back.”

“Did he say why?”

Benny shakes his head frantically.

“What about the one-eyed vampire,” I ask. “How is he involved?”

“He wanted the fox back too. The experiment is over, they said, but they still wanted the fox back. Something about hiding evidence.”

“Experiment? What experiment?”

Frangelico does something and Benny screams. “I don’t know! They don’t tell me everything.”

I nod to Frangelico and he makes Benny scream some more, but we don’t get anything else about the one-eyed vampire. Just the location of their secret club—behind the basement door where I cornered Benny.

Finally, Frangelico announces that we’ve gotten enough for tonight.

“Join me for a drink?” he invites. As he leaves, he caresses Benny’s limp hand. “I’ll be back for you later.” At Benny’s whimper, we leave.

“I gotta go,” I tell Frangelico after we’ve washed up. The king’s shirt is covered in Benny’s blood, but he doesn’t seem to mind. He washes his hands and inspects his nails as if he spent the last hour getting a fucking manicure.

“In a minute,” Frangelico says.

“Now,” I growl. Every second here gives the vampires a chance to clear out of their club.

“I promise to make it worth your while.”

Okay then. I follow the king into his living room.

“What are you going to do with your sired?” I ask. The king ignores me, going to the bar and pouring two glasses of whiskey. I accept mine but don’t drink.

Frangelico drinks his in one gulp and pours another. Is he trying to get drunk? Do vampires even get drunk? Shit, I don’t have time to play drinking games.

Before I can bow out, Frangelico murmurs, almost to himself.

“Do you have any idea how hard it is to sire a vampire? What’s involved?”

I shrug. “Blood exchange.”

“Yes. A careful, constant feeding. The number of exchanges varies. Too many and you weaken the victim. Too few and the virus doesn’t take hold. Oh yes,” he takes my shock for interest. “Vampirism is a virus. After all the exchanges are done to ensure the victim is primed enough to accept the virus, it’s time for the final step. The sire kills them. The heart must stop and the victim must die. Only then can the virus take over. It takes heart’s blood. The deepest, richest, and most deadly blood of all. The victim spills their heart’s blood, the sire replaces it.

“It’s excruciating,” he whispers, studying the color of his drink. “Waiting by your youngling’s side, not knowing if they will rise again. If you snuffed their life out before its time.

“Of all the sins on my head, the deaths of my children are why I am damned. But damnation is a small price to pay to avoid the long penance: eternal life.” He sets down the glass with a clink. Again, he’s murmuring so softly I wonder if it’s meant for my ears. “I will live forever, alone.”

Lucius Frangelico, all-powerful king of the vampires, is lonely.

Enough of this. I’m not his therapist. I drain my glass and set it down on the bar with a clink.

“I’m going after the one-eyed vampire,” I say. “I need blood. Lots of it.”

Without another word Lucius goes to his bar and draws out a small cooler.

“Here,” he says. I take the cooler’s handle but he doesn’t let go. “This is more than I’ve ever given you. Use it wisely. Drinking all of this could—”

“Kill me, yeah, yeah. I know.”

He raises a brow and I realize I just mocked a vampire king. After a second he smiles and I relax.

“I was going to say ‘bring a person back from the dead’. That’s another use of vampire blood—did you know? Vampire blood—the most healing substance on earth.” He picks up his glass and murmurs to the liquid, “The humans would hunt and breed us, if they knew.”

I wait until he’s finished swallowing before saying, “One more thing…”

“Yes?”

“The shifters who borrowed money from you. To place on me during the fight.”

“Yes? What about them?”

Fuck. How do I say this? “They’re…they’re my friends.”

The vampire king grins broader. It is not a pretty sight. “And you’re telling me this because…”

“Because I like my friends.” It better not get back to the Stooges that I said any of this. “I’d be very upset,” I enunciate carefully, “if any of them got hurt.”

“Ah. I see.” The vampire laughs. “You’ve been hanging out with vampires too long. Learning the art of the subtle threat.” He bends to the mini fridge and fills his drink with ice while I grit my teeth. I’m this close to saying a stake isn’t so subtle when he shrugs.

“I have no interest in killing any of my debtors. You can’t squeeze blood from a stone. Or a dead shifter.” He gives me one of his chilling smiles. “If they cannot repay me, they will simply owe me a favor.”

I suppress a shudder. The Stooges might be better off dead. “Got it.”

“I wish you well on your hunt.”

I’m halfway to the door before I remember my original question. “And your sired? What are your plans?”

The king has moved to a spot in front of his French doors, looking out on the portico. Without turning he waves his hand. “Finish your quest. Have your revenge.”

“Don’t worry, I’m planning on it. But if I run across Augustine and the rest of your sired, do I have permission to deal with them?”

“If they have turned against me, they are no longer under my protection. You may kill them. Kill them all.”

I leave him looking out at the night sky. I have a feeling he won’t move for a long time.