Thousands and thousands of years and still no peace reached between the vampires and werewolves. Perhaps no truce can be found…
Skyscrapers were something Xarn never truly understood, but he had been too amused in the past to complain. Like a cat studying a mouse, the werewolf decided to wait until the human fetish for building tall, looming structures died, but what seemed like a harmless experiment turned out to be a nightmare. The manufacturing humans only got smarter and now, standing before him was the grand opening of another, more advanced building, called ‘Midnight Masque.’
“Cheer up, love. It’s not the end of the world,” Dilamath Montgomery whispered in her mate’s ear.
Tensed, Xarn didn’t answer. A hundred years wasted was all he could think about, but at least the newly constructed nightclub was here, in Santa Carla, the murder capital of the world. The chance to live in a beach city of blood and madness was just too good to pass up and Xarn reluctantly became a partner.
His wealth welcomed by many, including Santa Carla’s newly elected mayor, Mimi Krinard.
McKenzie also smelled the blood in Santa Carla. It flowed like a river’s current, arousing the animal instincts within her to prowl and hunt. She fought it, taking great pride in appearing more human than the others did.
“What to you think, Mac?”
His daughter stared at the humans dancing so close together and felt an ember of jealously growing to a fire. Not that she would ever admit it.
“It’s wonderful, Da,” McKenzie lied. She walked away, wanting to explore every aspect of her new life. Drawn to the sword display beside the bar, she felt a moment of fear grip her heart.
Her father, the tycoon of the Montgomery Clan and more importantly, the Pack, had left Ireland, away from family, away from the only kin McKenzie had ever known. She was among humans now, in an entirely different world.
Turning, McKenzie glared at the male server. He hastily made his retreat behind the bar, warily looking back. Once again, she turned her attention to the sword display. Several ancient samurai swords were arranged by date, some rusted, others gleaming from the colorful lights above. Tenderly, she traced the outline of one, wishing with all her might that she were back home where she belonged.
“Marco? Where are you going?” a little boy asked what looked to be his big brother.
Closing her eyes, she waited for the big brother to make his approach. Without turning around, McKenzie counted to ten. Only when she still sensed his presence, did she open her eyes and gasped. He was standing only inches from her face.
He was taller than her four foot nine, but the way he bent towards her put them at eye level. His hair, blond and curly, draped down pass his shoulders.
He even smelled masculine with the hint of beer, strong tobacco and cologne, the stuff humans loved to spray themselves with, but only, this time, on him, it was alluring. Realizing she was staring, McKenzie backed away, shifting her eyes back to the swords.
“You like blades?”
He smiled. “What’s your name?”
“McKenzie Colin Montgomery,” she answered, “And you?”
“That’s it? No last name?”
“Yes, I like blades,” Marco replied, sidestepping the question.
Interested, McKenzie drilled him on every type of swords she could think of and surprisingly, he was more of an expert than she was, answering every question without hesitation. Too bad he’s human, thought McKenzie. He would have made a fine werewolf.
“Would you like to get something to eat?”
“I doubt raw children is on the menu,” muttered McKenzie. Strangely, the boy paused, as if he heard her, which was impossible for a human.
“Hmmm, some other time, perhaps. Nice to meet ya, Marco, see you around.”
She left him, hurrying back to her parents. She heard his answer but was puzzled by it.
He said, “Count on it.”