Page 5 of Craving Her Vampire

I am a thirty-two-year-old coyote shifter. My brother is twenty-seven but I haven’t seen him since he was eighteen. We decided to run away from the pack. We picked the place we would run to. The next day, my brother was gone. Turner was thrilled to tell me he sold him to another pack. I begged. I pleaded. I cried. He didn’t care or budge.

So I started to plan. And I never cried or begged in front of him again.

My parents are a myth. I don’t remember them; all I remember is this pack of sick coyotes. Years ago, Turner informed me my parents were killed by a vampire, but I have no reason to believe him. Obviously, something happened to them. When I was younger, I would dream they would come back to rescue me from this hellish house, but that’s all it was—a dream. Every night, I would close my eyes and try so hard to remembera face, a smell, or anything of the life I shared with my parents. I thought there had to be something. I failed. I sometimes wonder if Turner bought me or stole me from them. I don’t want to believe they would leave me and my brother intentionally.

I glance at the cot in the corner. He stayed here with me. I didn’t trust Turner and the others. My brother Liam is special. He trusts too easily and is a sensitive soul. I worry every day about him. Is he in pain? Is he scared? Did he forget about me? But the worst is if he thinks I abandoned or forgot about him.

Every day, I walk the streets, taking in the scents around me, hoping by some miracle I run across his unique scent. I even went to an investigator, but he asked too many questions. He was a human. How could he look for my shifter brother? I couldn’t explain what happened because I didn’t know. The man wanted to get the police involved if my brother was missing, but I couldn’t allow it. I always have to be careful; Turner finding out about my inquiries would make my life even more difficult.

I have nowhere to turn. I don’t have any family. Your pack should be your family, not the people who you distrust the most and fantasize about killing when they are asleep.

If I kill the one person who knows where Liam is, I won’t be able to live with myself.

I realize my plate is empty and throw it to the bed. I should be more worried about tonight. Turner has given me a mission, and I must fall in line. He probably killed someone in the woods and dropped his stupid watch, leaving evidence. I was taught never to leave clues behind. This isn’t the first time he’s sent me out without telling me the details. Most likely, as I said, he instructed his minions to kill me or torture me into giving up the location of the coin. I should care, but I don’t. I shouldn’t go, but I will. If they try to hurt me, I will do what I always do—fight.

They bit me when I was much younger, and I didn’t know how to fight or defend myself. Today was the first time in a long timeTurner touched me; deep down, he knows I will not hesitate to do what I threatened. The women of the world would rejoice if I sliced off his penis.

I double-check my locks, palm my knife, and go into the bathroom, locking that door, too. I move the heavy vanity in front of the door before turning on the shower. None of my precautions will stop them from breaking in, but they will give me extra minutes to defend myself. They haven’t tried to physically touch me for years, but caution is ingrained in every move.

I strip quickly and step under the water. The bathroom is small, and the shower is even smaller, but it works. I am not a slim girl. I have wide hips, my stomach isn’t flat, my breasts are a D-cup, and my thighs are thick. I am strong, though, and I haven’t had any complaints. I love my body, but my packmates love to talk shit about my curves. Coyote shifters, the ones I know at least, value a slim build. I believe your body is your body, whether small, curvy, slight, or anything in between. It’s important to love it and find someone who will celebrate it. I realize not everyone thinks the same, like the shifters in this house.

I don’t have relationships; I tried, but it didn’t work. Imagine bringing a man to this house where you hate the shifters who live here and they can hear everything. Plus, I haven’t found a mate, so what's the point? Don’t get me wrong—I am far from a virgin. I have casual relationships, but usually, it’s just for a few hours, and we go to their place or a hotel. Turner knows I won’t leave permanently without my brother, so he doesn’t watch me as closely as he used to. Shifters are physical creatures; we love being close to someone, preferably someone we like and are attracted to. I can’t even masturbate in my own bedroom unless the house is empty.

I finish and dry off. I always make sure to have spare clothes in here, so I rifle through the small assortment.

My usual outfit is jeans, light long-sleeved shirts, and T-shirts, sometimes tanks. I like to be covered. Lace doesn’t understand why I don’t show off my tattoos. I explained to her they weren’t for anyone else. I got them for me to enjoy and know the meaning behind them, not for other people.

I dress in jeans and a long-sleeved light purple shirt and brush my hair. I slip a hair tie around my wrist in case I have to run for my life tonight. I put the vanity back and move back to the bedroom just as a knock hits the door.

“Yeah,” I say.

“Time to go, Sweets,” Ryan says.

“I’ll be down in a minute,” I answer, sitting on the edge of the bed to put on my shoes. I love them. I spent the money to buy steel-toed boots; they come in handy.

Ryan is Turner’s right-hand man. They bond over their cruel ways. I’m not surprised he is the one in charge of this outing. He will do whatever Turner asks him to do.

I slip my small knife into my boot and another into the waist of my jeans, hiding it under my shirt. They may be small, but they work the same as big ones. With enough fury behind the thrust, they will do the damage needed. I put the key to my room in my pocket and unlock my phone. Just in case, I text Lace informing her of the night's plan. If I disappear, at least she knows I didn’t bail.

I leave the room, locking the door behind me, and take a deep breath. My legs are sore, but they always are, and I have to suck it up.

As I descend the stairs, the sight below me is straight out of my nightmares. Turner stands beside Ryan, his hand on his shoulder, his low laughter traveling the room. Four others from the pack are waiting with them.

“Ready, Sweets?” Turner asks.

“I’m always ready,” I toss back. “Do I get to know where we are going?” I ask, stopping in front of them.

“Nope,” Ryan grunts.

“Did you decide to come with us, Turner?” Do not show fear.

“I have plans,” he says with a secret smile. He is making a move, sick of waiting for the coin.

Awesome. Five against one.

“Right. So, let's go,” I say. Turner loses some of his cocky expression. Do you think I’m going to cower, asshole?

“Sure.” Ryan shares a meaningful look with Turner.