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Chapter 1
JORDAN
Atriptothehospital was the last thing I had planned for my day off but the disgruntled toddler in my arms couldn’t have cared less. Stepping out into the waning evening light I couldn’t help the hiss that escaped my lips as Hazel, my wailing bundle of joy, landed a perfectly placed kick to my abdomen.
My darling niece, whose vocal prowess could rival a heavy metal concert, had been less than thrilled about being poked and prodded by nurses all day, and she seemed hellbent on taking revenge now that we were homeward bound. In any other scenario that would have been fine by me, but Hazel was kicking up enough fuss to draw attention to herself, and that was dangerous.
To my immense relief, I spotted a familiar black sedan parked on the curb and a bored-looking woman eyeing me over the wheel. Flinging open the back door I hauled Hazel into her baby seat, nudging aside a rogue diaper left behind from a previous hospital-related endeavor. While Hazel and her sister donned the tell-tale fangs of our kind, their mixed blood made them two of the only vampires in existence capable of getting the flu.
The various smells of the hospital still lingered in my nostrils, adding to the nausea that had my stomach churning as I tried to wrangle Hazel into the contraption. Despite my best efforts with the belts and buckles, Hazel evaded my attempts with a surprisingly effective escape artist routine, landing a blow to my nose with one chubby little fist.
Dylan turned in the driver’s seat to watch me, painted black lips curving upwards into a smirk. “Smooth moves, Aunty Jordan. Olympic-level coordination right here.”
“Don’t test me today, I conquered a human hospital. I deserve some credit.”
Hazel’s cries reached new heights, harmonizing with the car alarms echoing in the parking lot.
Dylan shot me a wry smile and tossed her car keys onto Hazel’s lap. “I don’t know how you do it. All that blood, I can smell it from here.” She wrinkled her nose, faint freckles visible under the piles of powder she puffed onto her cheeks every morning.
With Hazel momentarily distracted and chewing on a fluffy bat keychain, I managed to conquer the final buckle, declaring victory with a triumphant “Ta-da!” and earned a half-hearted attempt at applause from Dylan.
Hazel, finally secured in her throne, babbled happily and jiggled the car keys like she hadn’t just beaten me black and blue.
I shimmied my way out of the back seat, standing upright and straightening out my suit jacket to maintain some semblance of dignity. “All right, that’s enough mom duties for today. let’s go home–”
My words lodged in my throat when a sudden, shrill sound reached my ears. A high-pitched scream echoed down the street, and along with it came a curious twinge in my chest.
I paused, fixated on the sounds of distress emanating from somewhere just out of sight.
The Manhattan streets were no stranger to sounds of distress. With so many humans piled on top of each other, chaos was a continuous occurrence. But this was different. Something about that sound set my heart thumping. A primal urge to protect swelled in my chest.
Dylan cocked her head at me through the window, brows knitting together. “What is it? You look paler than usual.”
“Did you hear that?” More importantly, did she feel the same tugging on her heartstrings at the sound of it?
My body screamed for me to run, every cell singing for me to follow that sound. I took a step away from the sedan, and then another. “Get Hazel home. I’ll catch up with you later.”
I didn’t wait for an answer, bolting down the street with my heart in my throat. I heard Dylan spew a string of profanities in my wake—no doubt aggrieved at her new role as babysitter. But my mind was elsewhere, the source of that sound the center of my attention.
Panic mingled with a kind of shivering excitement, egging me onward to whatever, whoever waited for me. Another blood curdling scream cut through the air and I picked up the pace, moving inhumanly fast under the glowing streetlights and grateful that the streets around me were empty.
Evening had settled over New York in a purple haze, drifting clouds stained a burnt orange by the city lights beneath them. I passed an aging radio tower and tasted the air. A scent, overpoweringly sweet and enticing, nearly brought me to my knees.
I was eager to leave behind the intoxicating fragrance before I spilled unintentional blood, but a flicker of movement down the alleyway to my left halted my headlong dash.
In the shadows of the alley, near the overflowing dumpster, a small figure was cowering. It wasn’t hard to deduce that this was the source of that tantalizing scent. The shaking figure, a woman I realized as I moved closer, crouched in front of the dumpster while her eyes flicked around wildly in search of escape.
While this individual was enough to pique my interest, it was the man towering over her that set the hair standing up on the back of my neck. In the deepening shadows of the alleyway he looked like a man, but his unnatural height and elongated jaw alluded to his true form.
The shifter hadn’t bothered with a full transformation, but his putrid dog smell was evidence enough that I was certain of it. Werewolf.
They didn’t often visit the city (apparently, the stench of vampire and lack of open spaces was repellant to them) but when shifters did visit, they were to abide by strict rules. No supernatural being was to reveal themselves to humans, and no humans were to be harmed within the boundaries of the city.
These were rules set by my own coven, rules that were to be enforced by me—the new queen of said coven. Anger had my blood boiling and a vicious rage ignited in my chest, my actions surprising me.
“Hey! Leave her alone!” I shouted and barreled toward the two figures.
The shifter turned to face me, yellow eyes glinting in the sliver of moonlight that reached the shadows of the alleyway. From his expression he wasn’t happy with my interference, and the way he bared his fangs told me he knew what I was, too.
