Nevermore (Crossbreed Series Book 6)

Just after sunset, I was hunkered down in the trailer, sitting in the shadows by the front door while listening to the party kick into gear.

Crush was supervising two barbecue grills while simultaneously keeping everyone away from the trailer. “If you gotta piss, the woods are right there,” he said on more than one occasion.

We didn’t have a plan. He wanted to wait until all the main people arrived, so I sat in darkness, listening to motorcycles pulling onto the property and raucous laughter. Bottles clinked together as they fished them out of an ice chest. Sometimes they just brought hard liquor and spiked their drinks, afraid that waving beer bottles around might be rubbing it in Crush’s face. At least that’s how it had been growing up. I’d been away for a long, long time. Over ten years now. What did I really know about his life?

I thumped my head against the wall when another headlight beamed across the ceiling. “Hurry up,” I muttered quietly. “I’m getting hungry.”

I jumped when the door swung open and Crush shuffled in. He cut straight to the kitchen and rummaged through the drawers.

“Have you seen my lighter stick?” he asked. “I need to light the firepit.”

“Fun party?”

“Ah, here it is.” He turned around with the long plastic lighter in his hand and wandered over, staring down at my spot on the floor. “What the hell are you doing down there?”

“I was afraid if I walked by a window, someone might think I was a ghost. Can we get this over with? If anyone’s late, they don’t deserve to be at your party in the first place.”

“You got that right,” he said, wagging his finger. Then he took a nervous breath and ran his hand down the front of his sweatshirt. “Do you want to put on a jacket? It’s getting nippy out there.”

Crush had been working the grill, evident from the thick smell of mesquite wood wafting off his clothes. But he looked pretty dapper as far as bikers go. The black bandana tied over his head and knotted in the back kept his hair away from the food he was cooking, but what especially caught my eye was his shirt.

“Turn around,” I said.

He furrowed his brow. “Why?”

When he turned, I couldn’t contain my laugh. Crush was wearing an old sweatshirt I’d given him that said BIKER DAD on the back.

“I can’t believe you still have that old thing. I thought the moths would have eaten it up by now.”

He grinned proudly, his silver tooth flashing when outside headlights briefly beamed in the room. “Best damn present I ever got. People are giving me funny looks about it.”

“Why?”

“I haven’t worn it in years. Not since… Well, you know.”

“Have you lost weight since I last saw you? It used to look like you were hiding a baby in that thing.”

He rubbed his hand over his stomach and squared his shoulders. “Gotta keep fit for the ladies.”

“Help me up.” I held out my hand, and he pulled me to my feet. “Do you want to walk out together, or should I wait for an introduction? If I have to sit in here another minute, I’m going to eat all your ice cream and call it a night.”

Crush chuckled. “Nice try, Cookie. But you don’t like pistachio.” He peered through the sheer curtain. “Give me a minute to round them up.”

“Get moving, old man.” I tugged on his ponytail as he opened the door and went outside.

It wasn’t until that moment that my heart quickened and I found it difficult to catch my breath. I was looking forward to seeing the gang again, but would they feel the same? If they didn’t resent me for skipping out on my father all those years ago, they might because I was a Mage. I didn’t plan on telling them about the Vampire part, especially without knowing how they felt about them. The last thing I wanted was for Crush to be shunned for something he couldn’t help. His friends were a big part of who he was, so I had to make a good impression and win them over again.

“Can I have your attention,” he boomed just outside the door. “Turn the music off; I need you to come around.”

The crowd murmured, and I heard wild speculation and flurries of laughter.

“My hot dog’s getting cold,” someone complained.

Crush replied in his usual no-nonsense way. “I’m all out of fucks to give. I have an announcement to make, and I need your undivided attention.”

I swallowed hard, my ear pressed to the door.

“Get on with it!” someone exclaimed.

“Did you finally pick yourself out a wife?” a woman razzed, generating a few riotous laughs.

“Bitch,” I muttered.

“That would be one desperate woman,” a man tacked on.

Crush cleared his throat. “Some of you asked what my old truck is doing back in the driveway. Yeah, I sold it. It’s not mine anymore, and no, I didn’t steal it back. There’s, uh… The owner is here and… she means the world to me, um… It’s a long story that, uh…”

I couldn’t stand hearing him stumbling over his words in front of an audience, so I swung the door open to rescue him. “I’m not dead.”

One guy’s beer bottle slipped right from his hand.

The crowd of bearded men and dolled-up women stared at me, slack-jawed and wide-eyed.

I stood next to my tongue-tied father and rested my hands on the wood railing, with forty or so of his friends assembled below. “Crush didn’t know I was alive until recently, so he didn’t pull a fast one on anyone here. At the time I faked my death, I didn’t think I had any choice in the matter.”

“What the hell does that mean?” someone spat out. That someone was Tank. Ladies described him as big, black, and beautiful. But he got that nickname because he was badass. Tank used to take care of me a lot when my father was drunk, so I saw him as an uncle. “You broke your old man’s heart, and you want us to believe it wasn’t a choice?”

As the crowd turned on me, I knew why Crush had hesitated. His closest friends must have witnessed him go through hell and back after my supposed death.

“Is this some kind of joke?” someone asked in rapid fire, questions rising to a clamor as the crowd lambasted me.

I’d lost control of their attention, and as I scanned the leather-clad group—some holding beers and others red plastic cups—I realized how little they’d changed. How long did Crush believe he could have kept the Breed world a secret from me? It wouldn’t have been long before I noticed the only one aging was my father.

The crowd parted and simmered down when Ren approached from the back. Ren was Crush’s best friend, and I remembered him as an older guy. But now looking at him, he didn’t seem so old. He had a face that was difficult to pin an age on. Lines etched his forehead, a few light hairs peppered his short beard, and tattoos cloaked his arms like sleeves. Ren was the epitome of badass and biker all blended into one. In Shifter years, there was no telling how old he was, but he looked forty.

When he reached the front, he cast a critical eye at me. “What reason trumps putting your father through a funeral?”

I gripped the rail and kept my voice steady. “Extenuating circumstances not up for discussion in front of the group. Or should I call this… a pack?”

Everyone looked among one another.

Crush put his arm around me and pulled me so close to him that the air squeezed right out of my lungs. “Most of you have known Raven all her life. You’re the only family she’s ever had. I shielded her from your world for as long as I could, but she found her own way in.” He took a deep breath. “Raven’s Breed now.”

I could feel everyone’s eyes on me even though I kept staring at the lighter in Crush’s other hand.

“Some bad shit happened,” he went on. “And I’m looking each of you dead in the eye and telling you that I don’t want anyone here asking her about it. If she wants to talk, she’ll talk. I’ve kept a lot of secrets from her, but she had the balls to come back and tell it straight. What’s done is done, and she’s not to blame. Raven cut ties with me because she didn’t have a choice. You all know the policy. Had I been honest with her from the beginning, she would’ve been home a long time ago.”

That last part he sounded a little unsure of, so I gave him a squeeze and a look of reassurance.

“So she knows about us?” someone asked. “What we are?”

“Jackasses?” I answered. “I knew that all along.”

Laughter broke up the tension.

“I’m guessing most of you are wolves,” I continued. “It makes sense now, but I don’t know how you went all this time without letting it slip.”

One guy who went by the name Tire set his bottle on the ground. “Finally! I don’t have to wear these damn clothes.” In a swift movement, he shifted into a wolf.

Crush let go of me and leaned over the railing, pointing at Tire’s wolf with his lighter. “Someone tie his ass up in the garage. Nobody shifts around Raven unless Ren supervises the introduction, and I don’t know if that’s gonna happen.”

Ren folded his arms. “Why’s that? Is your little girl too good to hang out with my boys?”

“Hell yeah,” Crush said, descending the steps.

Both men confronted each other and laughed, pulling into a tight hug. Ren clapped him on the back and squeezed hard, whispering something in his ear.

When I followed behind Crush, Ren approached me and gripped my shoulders.

“Girl, you look like a mess. Isn’t he feeding you?” Ren gave me a hug, but his was considerably gentler. His voice softened, meant only for me. “We missed you, Raven. I’m sure you’ve got a long story to tell, and if you ever want to talk, I’m here. And if my packmates give you a hard time, let me know.”

The hair on my arms stood on end. I looked closely in his brown eyes. “You’re an alpha, aren’t you?”

He gave me a tight-lipped smile. The way everyone instantly accepted me was answer enough. Ren held authority over this group that had more to do with rank than friendship.

As he moved away, the crowd swarmed me. Some gave me pats on the shoulder and others a welcoming hug.

I turned in a semicircle, looking among the sea of beards and bad fashion choices. I had something else to settle regarding the people who had heckled my father. I could have ignored it, but I knew these guys. They would have talked about it later, and I didn’t want my father to be the butt of anyone’s jokes. “Who was the bitch making the jokes about my daddy when he was giving his speech?”

A few men regarded me, eyebrows arched high.

“That’d be me,” a blonde said, strutting into view.

I’d never met this one before, so I stepped up and matched her height. “What’s your name?”

“Lilah.”

“Is there something amusing about his marital status?”

She pursed her hot-pink lips and jutted her hip out. “Everyone knows Crush is a wallflower.”

I tightened my gaze. “That’s my daddy you’re talking about. If he’s not married, it’s because there isn’t a woman out there good enough for him. And if you think anyone’s going to consider you a catch after mocking a good man like Crush, then you picked the wrong day to put on those red pumps. Don’t ever mock my father again. Are we clear?”

She sighed, and her small mouth turned up in a smile. “You’re just like your old man. Good to finally meet you, Raven. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

I looked around. “Who’s the guy that made the wisecrack right after Lilah?”

A husky man stepped forward, a bandana secured around his head and his square jaw full of whiskers. “That would be me.”

I reeled back my arm and threw a hard punch. He bent over, his nose bloody.

Some of the men standing nearby hit their chest once with a closed fist and muttered “Respect.”

The confrontation fizzled out with no hard feelings. That was the law among these men, and I knew their code. Nobody ever took shit personally, and the bikers had a motto that if you don’t stand up for yourself and say your piece, no one will ever respect you. These men were partly responsible for why I was strong-minded and outspoken. Humans preached these qualities in a woman but rarely accepted them. It was why I’d had trouble holding down jobs let alone boyfriends. But these tools aided in my survival, allowing me to live in the Breed world where only the strongest of women survived. Little did I realize these men had empowered me with one of the greatest gifts, and that was the ability to think for myself, look after myself, and fight for myself. They truly raised me as an equal. Speaking one’s mind was a way of life for these guys.

And defending Crush was a way of life for me.

Tank pointed over my head. “Someone get our guest of honor a beer.”

“Tequila,” I shouted. “And a hamburger with the works.”

“Your wish is my command,” Tank said, shouldering his way through the crowd.

Crush found me again and put his arm around my shoulders, leading us toward the firepit. “Some of the guys want to shift.”

“Why?”

“Remember what I said about things getting a little more free-spirited around here over the past few years?”

I got it. Without me around, everyone was allowed to be themselves and shift at the parties. “That’s fine. They can do whatever they want.”

“If you’re not up for introductions, I can tell them no.”

“As long as nobody humps my leg or goes for my jugular, I’ll agree. And don’t think I won’t stab the first man who tries.”

“Don’t think I won’t stab them first.”

I climbed a ladder onto the roof of my father’s trailer. Usually I just scaled the tree, but after a few drinks, I decided to be safe about it and prop a tall ladder against the side of his home. The music played some forgotten slow jam by Badfinger, and a few of the guys below were trying and failing miserably to hit all the high notes in the chorus. Wolves dashed around the property, some stopping to bay at the moon. Since the trailers in his park were a fair distance apart, residents had enough privacy to do whatever they wanted. Crush informed me that some of his neighbors were rogue Shifters who didn’t belong to a pack. There was a stereotype about rogues since wolves lived and died by the pack, but people seemed to overlook it as long as they contributed to the community. Viktor probably could have been a beta wolf, but he’d chosen to do something else with his life—something good.

I sat cross-legged and took a swig from my beer, exhausted from having spent the entire evening listening to old stories and meeting wolves. Ren had supervised to make sure the wolves didn’t do anything stupid like maul me. As it turned out, I’d already met a few. In the early days when my father used to drink, some of Ren’s packmates used to guard the trailer whenever I was home alone. I’d just assumed they were stray dogs.

“Thought I’d find you up here.”

I glanced at Switch as he climbed onto the roof.

He walked toward me and took a seat at my side, one knee drawn up. “Man, they’re awful.”

I smiled at the men whose voices were giving out as they reached the chorus. “Did your dad come?”

“No, I think he had work he couldn’t get out of.” Switch gave me a lingering look and tilted his head to the side. “You’ve changed.”

I took a swig. “In what way?”

“I don’t know.” He swept his long hair away from his face and studied me for a beat. “You’re tougher. I still remember the shy girl who cared what everyone thought about her at a stupid dance.”

“It wasn’t stupid. It was just another example of how I never fit in with everyone else.”

“Who the hell wants to fit in? Most of those clowns are working desk jobs and trying to figure out if they should trade in their SUV for a minivan. You’ve always fit in with us.”

My eyes glazed over as I stared down at the flames licking the night air from the firepit. Crush looked so damn happy sitting in his lawn chair with a bottle of orange soda in one hand and a stogie in the other. I could faintly hear him telling another one of my childhood stories.

“I don’t think I can lose him,” I admitted quietly.

Switch bent his other knee and draped his arms around them. “We all lose everyone eventually. Nothing lasts forever.”

“But I have to lose him sooner, and I can’t bear to think about it.” When my words faltered, I turned my head away.

His voice softened, and he bumped his shoulder against mine. “You won’t be left alone, if that’s what you’re afraid of. The packs are your family. Always will be. Ren’s not exactly a lovable guy, but he treats you just as good as he treats his own daughter. That’s why he accepted you back with no questions asked. Everyone knows you’ve got a story, but whatever happened doesn’t take away the love they still feel for you.”

I tugged on a long lock of my black hair and twirled it around my finger. Telling my story might garner sympathy and understanding, but it felt safer to hide the emotional scars. I didn’t want to risk scrutiny or judgment. How could a bunch of Shifters sympathize with my choice to drink a Vampire’s immortal blood, especially knowing that by doing so, I’d be abandoning my father? That before it took hold, a Mage suffused my core light with his, and in the midst of chaos, my body accepted immortality from both my maker and Creator. My existence was an impossibility to some and an abomination to others. I sure didn’t want to delve into the details about how my Creator was a light addict and held me captive. Aside from all that, what would they say about the countless men I’d murdered? There were too many land mines to navigate.

“What have you been up to all these years?” I asked, eager to deflect the attention from myself. “Why aren’t you in a pack?”

He stretched his arms forward and then gripped his wrist. “I left my family when I was about twenty. I don’t know how much you know about Shifters, but it’s customary the kids leave the pack when they’re of age. Some mate right away, others get jobs and find their own pack.”

I looked up at him. “You’ve been on your own for more than ten years?”

“Something like that.”

When he steered his eyes forward, I noticed how his prominent brow jutted out a little over his eyes, giving him an interesting profile. Switch was a handsome guy, and it was a wonder someone hadn’t snatched him up already.

“So what are you waiting for, a mate?”

“That would probably make my life easier.”

“Why’s that? You could join a pack if you wanted to.”

“I just meant it would be easier for me to mate since I’m not in a pack. If she’s already settled, I can just join up with her. Well, as long as the Packmaster approves. The only exception would be if she was still with her original pack.”

“Which would mean you were robbing the cradle.”

“Yeah. I don’t want a twenty-year-old.”

I chuckled and sipped my beer. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard that come out of a man’s mouth.”

He turned his head to look at me and tilted it. “What about you, Raven Graves? Any special man in your life?”

I stared down at the fire again. “My name isn’t Graves anymore. It’s Black. Raven Black.”

He watched me with inquisitive eyes but didn’t interrupt.

“And I thought there was a man, but now I’m not sure if what we have is real or in my imagination.”

“Sounds to me like he hasn’t made his intentions clear. That’s his fault. No woman of mine would ever have to wonder if I’m courting her. If this man of yours isn’t careful, someone else is going to come along and steal your heart.”

“It’s more complicated than that. So back to you, Switcharoo, what are you doing these days to make money?”

“I’m a nanny.”

I bumped shoulders with him. “Seriously.”

“Seriously.”

My head jerked back. “You’re a nanny?”

“Why? You think it’s only a job for women?”

I raked him over with my eyes. “You’re a biker who dresses like he just got out of the clink. When’s the last time you trimmed your hair? I’m just surprised anyone would entrust you with their babies.”

“I’m actually good with kids.”

“Wait, who do you nanny for?”

“One of the local packs.”

I set my beer bottle down. “I thought packs took care of their own?”

“Do you really wanna know all this?”

“I live with a Shifter, but I don’t really have any idea how the pack thing works. My dad hangs out with a bunch of Shifters, so I might as well learn.”

“Okay.” Switch stretched out his long legs, crossed them at the ankle, and leaned back on his palms. “The bigger packs can usually work out a schedule between all the packmates, but the smaller ones struggle. Especially when they’re not doing well financially and everyone has to get a job. Because of the hectic hours and small household, it’s tough for them. So sometimes they hire nannies.”

I was trying to imagine Switch with a baby under one arm while he chased after a rambunctious group of children, and it kind of tugged at my heartstrings. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but wouldn’t packs prefer a woman over a man to watch their children? People see all those stories in the news.”

Fire blazed in his eyes, and he threw me a rigid look. “No one hurts my kids.” Switch launched to his feet and literally jumped off the roof.

“Switch, wait! That’s not what I meant.”

When I bent over, I saw nothing but a pile of clothes and a wolf dashing into the woods.

“Good job, Raven. Insult the only people who care about you.”

I knew Switch would never harm a child. But people cling to stereotypes, and I wondered if that had hindered him in any way from getting work. Unfortunately, it had all come out the wrong way.

I stood up and swayed for a minute. Then I grabbed my beer and walked to the end of the roof where I’d propped the ladder. It took me a minute to get on it, but I managed to descend the ladder without killing myself.

Ren eased up, his hair all combed back in that wavy style that made him look like a character out of Grease. He had big, hulking shoulders, and maybe that was why I’d always been intimidated by him.

Or maybe it was just the fact that he was a wolf in biker’s clothing.

“Everything all right?” he asked.

“I think I pissed off Switch. I didn’t know he was a nanny.”

Ren put his arm around me, and we ambled across the yard. “Hope you didn’t judge him too harshly. Murder isn’t a badge of honor for a man who still hasn’t joined a pack.”

I halted in my tracks. “Murder?”

By the look on his face, Ren realized he’d divulged more than I knew. “A few years ago, Switch worked for a reputable pack in the territory. One day he found out an uncle of one of the boys had done things an uncle shouldn’t do.”

Chills ran down my spine.

Ren veered toward the firepit. “Switch was young and impulsive. Instead of going to the Packmaster like he should have, he took matters into his own hands. Caught the uncle out one night and murdered him in cold blood. After he explained his actions to the Council, they released him. The Packmaster could have pursued a charge against him since it was within his rights, but he fired Switch instead. He couldn’t forgive his crime.” Ren put his hand behind my back. “Switch did a noble thing, but it put a mark on him.”

“How so?”

Ren stopped in front of me, arms folded. “He’s a loyal wolf, no doubt about it. But going behind a Packmaster’s back was impulsive, and that’s going to make it hard for him. A Packmaster wants loyal packmates who respect the hierarchy, not someone who circumvents rules. It wasn’t his right to carry out justice. That right belonged to either the Packmaster or the boy’s parents. Switch chose to ignore authority, and that’s a sign of disrespect. I have no doubt the Packmaster would have taken out that wolf himself—no one would stand for that kind of evilness. But it is what it is.”

“So that’s why he hasn’t joined a pack yet.”

“Some wolves wait two hundred years before settling down. No big deal. But usually they’re bounty hunters proving their worth as warriors. Switch is watching kids. Maybe in time people will forget what he’s done, but even if he moves away, his past will always follow him. Packs do their research.”

I scanned the property but saw no sign of Switch’s brown wolf.

“He takes good care of those kids,” Ren went on. “Switch has always looked out for little ones, even when he was a kid himself. Some wolves have a higher instinct to protect than others. He would have made a good watchdog.”

I thought about Switch’s admirable actions when he took me to that dance on short notice after I was stood up. I’d never sensed reluctance but remembered him going out of his way to show me a good time. Thinking back, Switch was always that guy. His tender heart was perhaps his most attractive quality of all.

“He’s a good teacher,” Ren continued. “He doesn’t just babysit, if that’s what you’re thinking. Switch teaches classes and gives those kids a solid education. That’s not something all pack children get. They learn the basics of reading, writing, and arithmetic, but most of the jobs we do in this world are trade.”

“I always wondered why he didn’t go to the same school as me.”

“It’s really up to the parents, but most of us don’t want our kids mingling with humans. It puts ideas in their heads that clash with our beliefs. What use do they have learning about human history or human biology? Most of us run family businesses or learn a trade from a packmate.”

“Maybe it’s not so much what they’ll learn in the classroom. Going to public school would give them experience interacting with humans on a social level. It’s a big world out there, Ren. You can’t isolate yourselves from everyone.”

Ren patted my back as we reached the firepit. “You’re just like your old man. Anyone ever tell you that?”

I took a swig of beer before stumbling into an empty chair. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”