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The first night we met, my future roommate snapped off both of his canine fangs. It was his way of assuring me he was harmless. It was also completely unnecessary. I could sense he was no danger to me, but I went along with it anyway since it obviously made my gallant knight in fang-y armor feel better.
By the time I accepted his offer to stay in his apartment—be platonic roommates with our own space—his fangs had already grown back. He’d only been without them for three days which was more than I needed to get a decent read on him.
He was a good guy and, it turns out, a good friend.
So I agreed, and he commemorated me staying in Muncie by taking one of his fangs and turning it into a necklace. At first, I thought it was creepy, but it didn’t take long before I understood the meaning behind it.
In Muncie, anyone wearing a charmed fang is protected from any other vampire. It’s a sign that we have one of their kind looking out for us, that we’re not to be messed with. In my case, something that Aleks did to this charm makes it so that my true scent is hidden. It keeps the other vamps in town from picking up on my shifter nature. So long as I don’t shift in front of them, I seem as human as the next chick.
Because, yeah. He wasn’t kidding when he told the Nightmare Trio—my name for the three female vamps who tried to attack me my first night in town—that I was his.
Of course, he didn’t mean what I initially thought he meant. He didn’t want to drain me, and he didn’t want to fuck me. My roommate has a bit of a savior complex. When he saw Gretchen and her followers ready to attack, it didn’t matter that I was a shifter or a female. I was outnumbered and, to his gentle nature, that just didn’t seem right.
So he claimed me. And, with his fang, he branded me. Any vampire who saw me wearing it knew instinctively that I was under the protection of Aleksander Filan.
Basically, I’m off limits.
So I wear the necklace because I know it makes him feel better. At first, he wanted to make sure that no one gave me trouble. And, honestly, this sucker has saved me from getting into more fights than I count. When someone looking for trouble sees the fang, they keep on looking.
Of course, I’m not a complete idiot. I know fangs like these have another meaning. It’s why Hailey is desperate to get one of her own. Wearing this fang is a sign that Aleks really does consider me one of his.
And, these days, it’s exactly as it sounds.
A few months into our friendship, Aleks confessed that he had feelings for me. By then, I had told him about as much of my past as I felt comfortable sharing, so he knew all about Ryker and the way he rejected me. Because of that, he told me to take my time, and that if I ever decide to return his favors, he’d be waiting for me.
Like I said, vamps are really super patient.
For now, he’s my roommate and my closest friend. I’ve never really had one of those before, so it’s nice. He does so much for me, too, that the last thing I want is to get him in trouble with Roman because I got in a scrap with another shifter.
If I can sense them, they’ve got to be near. Which means, if I want to avoid them, I’ve got to be going.
My hand slides up to the fang, clasping it securely like the pass that it is. I know I’m going to catch the attention of my neighbors if I start jogging the rest of the way so I decide to hold it out, make it noticeable. Humans will think it’s a weird accessory, while vamps will recognize it and let me go on my way undisturbed. It’s a win-win and—
Crap.
The chain hits my hand with a soft slap. I yanked the damn thing right off of my neck.
One downside to shifter strength, I suppose. With my wolf on high alert, warning me away from the unknown shifter scent, I lost a little control. The golden chain is so delicate, so finicky, and… ugh.
That’s the… what? Third time recently that’s happened?
I click my tongue and shove the necklace with Aleks’s fang into my pocket.
It’s one thing to show it off. But if I accidentally drop it, what happens then? I can get the chain repaired—again—no problem, but I don’t want to have to ask my roommate for another one of his chompers.
He’s already done more than enough for me.
* * *
I can’t shakethe feeling that I’m being followed the whole way back to my apartment.
Technically, it’s Aleks’s, but he insisted that I call it mine after I decided impulsively that I’d take the spare room he was offering me. I countered that it could only really be mine if I was contributing. A gentleman through and through, Aleks refused—which led to him getting his first lesson in dealing with an alpha wolf who was finally free to be herself.
I had a job at Charlie’s by the end of my first week in Muncie, I paid Aleks my portion of the rent with that first paycheck, and I’ve happily considered my room my own personal den ever since.
I stay on alert as I quicken my pace, but if someone is following me, they’re good. The unfamiliar shifter scent always stays just out of reach, and maybe if I were anywhere but in Muncie, I’d follow it back to its source. I can’t, though. I’ve worked too hard to make a life here, hiding in plain sight of the pack’s mountain, and I’m not going to let some unknown wolf mess it up for me.
Just in case they’re closer than I think, I pass the front of our building, cut through an alley, and approach it from the back. There’s a long, steel fire escape that connects the balconies on each level of the twenty-floor building. Each tenant—nearly all of them vamps—owns their own floor. The twelfth floor is Aleks’s, and he’s lived here for the last forty years.
