Ella dressed in a dark green gown of satin and lace that showed off her figure and the pale skin of her chest. She slid on her boots and tied them slowly before pulling her hair back in a braid and tying it at the base of her neck.

She stared at herself in the mirror and noticed that she looked paler than normal, something she didn’t think possible, and her eyes were surrounded by dark circles.

The knowledge of what she was going to do tonight was weighing heavily on her. Life mates were supposed to be a gift and she was going to destroy hers.

The words ‘return to sender’ flashed through her mind and she laughed. It was a hollow sound that echoed sharply off the walls around her. Her body felt heavier somehow as she moved slowly across the bedroom and grabbed her thick black cloak. She draped it over her shoulders and left her room. She was going toward the front door when she heard a cry from downstairs.

“Help us!” a feminine voice yelled. Ella rolled her eyes. The sound of the screaming was muffled enough deep beneath the earth that no human ears would hear it but it was enough to drive her crazy. She hated the sounds of desperate, trapped screams.

She had screamed her share of them when Faugrimm had first captured her. For a long while the sound of screams had filled her with fear, now they simply filled her with annoyance. When would prisoners realize that screaming was useless? That no one was going to come help them simply because they called for help? No one had ever come for her.

Ella walked to the trapdoor that would lead to the cellar and moved the rug that laid atop it. She grabbed the thick iron rung handle and pulled hard, the heavy door creaking as it opened and the cries for help growing louder.

Ella made her way down the long, curving staircase. The first half were made of wood and then they simply became ledges carved into the dirt as she went deeper and deeper underground.

Warren liked to ensure that his ‘pets’ wouldn’t be found or heard by mortals.

“Would you shut up?” she stated irritably as she entered the damp, dark cellar. Her eyes needed no time to adjust to the lack of light thanks to her vampire vision and she saw the women, dirty, sweaty and appearing quite miserable in their cages.

“Warren never locked us up like this before!” one of the women cried out accusingly.

“Yes, well he also never left you here with me when he went away.” Ella stated. Always before he would erase the memories of his pets and send them away until he returned.

“Why can’t you erase our memories and let us go?” one of the women asked as she shivered in the corner. Ella shrugged.

“It’s not my place.” she replied. Warren would punish her soundly if she ever did something like that. If he hadn’t erased their memories and let them go it was because he hadn’t wanted to.

“When will Warren be back?” The dark haired woman who had entered her room the day before asked. She was still naked and shivering since Ella had not wasted time in dressing her.

“Tomorrow.” Ella replied with a shrug. “The next day. Whenever he chooses.”

“Can we have some food?” the blond asked with another shiver. Ella was irritated. This was not her responsibility. Then again she had once been a prisoner and understood that rumbling, burning, aching gnawing in your gut that came from days without food, whether you ate bread or blood. She did not wish that desperate feeling on anyone.

Without bothering to speak, Ella walked over to a cabinet in the corner of the dark and dingy room. She pulled out a couple of new candles and a pack of matches and lit the candles around the room to offer the women a bit of light.

Then she took out a loaf of bread and a chunk of cheese, both of which she had brought down the evening before when she had fed the women.

Ella reached through the bars and handed the food to the dark haired woman, who was quickly surrounded by the other two women and they all attacked the food much like a pack of wild animals.

Ella found this slightly amusing since her kind were the ones considered savages, or animals, by mortal such as the dirty, screeching ones currently finding over crumbs of stale bread.

Ella decided that she had wasted and killed enough time. It was time she got busy doing what she knew she had to do tonight. It was time to go hunt down her newest victim.

Her life mate.

***

Ella used the life mate pull to her advantage and found her feet carrying her to the darkest and dirtiest of the saloons around. It was on the east side of town, right on the river and only the worst of the worst came here.

Ella didn’t normally come to this saloon because there were no women working here. It was a favorite gathering spot for outlaws and wanted men who wanted to be able to drink and gamble without worrying about being recognized by lawmen. Lawmen tended to stay away from this place.

Ella pulled her cloak tighter and made sure the hood was covering her face and hair before entering the dusty building. The antler chandelier’s hanging from the ceiling cast a dim glow. The sound of poker chips begin stacked and tapped filled the air along with loud laughter, bragging and story telling.

Ella slipped through the shadows to an empty table, ignoring the eyes turned her way.

She was surprised to find that she was disappointed to know that Brendon was here. He had seemed like a decent type of man but the fact that he was here with men like this simply served to show that you never knew…

She settled into her seat, blending with the shadows so well that it didn’t take long before no one even recognized her presence. She searched the crowded interior and almost instantly her eyes landed on Brendon’s impressive figure.

He stuck out in this place like a sore thumb. He was broad, clean, confident yet relaxed. There was something about him, something in his aura perhaps that caused him to stand apart from every other man in his presence.

Ella shook her head to clear her thoughts, that was simply the life mate in her talking. Brendon was no different from any other mortal man and his presence here proved that.

It was then that she recognized who he was talking to. The newest werewolf alpha. A mean man with many pets. A man like Faugrimm. Why was her life mate having late night meetings with werewolves?

Ella cursed the noise in this place that made it impossible for even a vampire to hear what they were saying.

All that was left to do was to wait until Brendon left, follow him out into the dark and end his life as quickly as possible.

***

Brendon hated the smell in saloons. The stench of sweat, dirt, beer and unwashed bodies was thick and nauseating. Brendon always had soap somewhere in his belongings and was sure to wash at least every other day, just so long as he wasn’t traveling through the desert.

But he knew that the scent here was the reason the wolves wanted their meeting to be here. He had been approached by one several hours earlier in the evening and had been told to be at this saloon an hour after dusk so their alpha could speak to him.

So now here he was, in this stinky saloon full of drunk mortals gambling away what little money they had and bragging about their lawbreaking adventures, sitting at a table with three werewolves while several more watched him from around the saloon.

The alpha wanted to meet here to hide any scents from his home from Brendon, which was fine with Brendon. He had enough to deal with without worrying about the pets and prisoners at werewolf mansion.

“The whiskey is good and all,” Brendon stated as he sat back in his chair and spun his glass. “But is there a reason you wanted to see me here tonight besides small talk? I had another meeting to get to tonight.”

“Yes the vampire.” the alpha said with a nod. “The one that protects the vampire is out of town and so your quarry is unguarded at the moment. I trust you have learned by now who it is you’re after?”

“I might have.” Brendon replied with a shrug as he downed the last of his whiskey. It burned its way to his stomach, warming him from the inside. Normally Brendon wasn’t much of a drinker but considering he had to kill a woman tonight that he wasn’t all that sure deserved to die, a few drinks could only help. They sure couldn’t make him feel any damn worse.

“Since your business will be wrapping up soon in our fair city and you’ll be on your way, I have a favor to ask of you.” the alpha stated with a businesslike air as he folded his arms on the rough oak tabletop.

“Favor? Why the hell would I do you a favor?” The alpha smiled.

“Because I have money, Hunter. Aren’t you Hunters just mercenaries with titles?”

“What’s the job?” Brendon asked, since he did take jobs from time to time. Mostly to kill the boredom and do something that had nothing to do with the old men on the council. It made him feel more like his own man and less like their puppet, which of course he was… Their puppet that is.

“I thought the mention of money would catch your interest!” the alpha said happily. “Now my name is Vern…”

“Vern?” Brendon asked with a chuckle and Vern’s eyes narrowed as the other two wolves at the table tensed.

“It is a family name.” Vern sniffed defensively and Brendon nodded and managed to wipe the smile from his face. “Now my father used to be the alpha of this pack. He was a fine alpha but he was killed about three decades ago by a lone wolf. A rogue that earned his trust and then turned on him. Back then I was too young to become alpha and so the wolf that took over the pack after me was responsible for getting revenge…” Vern’s hand tensed on his whiskey glass. “But he wasn’t worried about vengeance or revenge. He said there were more important things to focus on.”

Brendon silently agreed but kept quiet. As far as he was concerned vengeance and revenge didn’t really help anything and only served to get more people hurt.

“What’s your point?” Brendon asked impatiently. “As I said before, I have plans for tonight.” Vern glared at him and then nodded.

“Yes well, I took over a few months ago and have been busy making changes and trying to restore the pack to the former glory it held when my father was alive. Part of that is hunting down the wolf who killed my father.”

“Hunting a single lone wolf who killed your father thirty years ago? Sorry but that seems like trying to find a needle in a big old haystack if you ask me.” Brendon replied. “I really should get going….”

“Wait. I have a name. I know exactly where he is. He is no longer a lone wolf. As a matter of fact, he is an alpha.” Vern snorted. “Imagine that, a rogue, not even born a wolf, thinking he could be an alpha.”

Unease worked it way down Brendon’s spine. He knew a wolf that had once been a mortal, that had been turned about three decades ago and killed the wolf that turned him… Though Brendon had no idea where Grange was from or whether or not that wolf had been an alpha…. Why hadn’t that ever come up?

“So you want to pay me to do your dirty work?” Brendon asked with a raise of his brow and Vern shook his head.

“No, I’ll kill the bastard. I just want you to capture him and bring him to me.” Brendon snorted.

“I don’t play babysitter to werewolves. Sorry but I have a thing about fleas.” Brendon tipped his head at the angry look on the three wolves faces. “No offense meant of course.”

“I would pay you enough that if, by chance, you do contract fleas from the worthless mutt, you would be able to pay to have them taken care of.”

“Where is this wolf?”

“In the western territories. I can give you a map with his approximate location marked.” That spark of unease quickly became a raging inferno of unease.

“Well I was fixing to head west, as luck would have it. Just what is this wolf’s name and exactly how much are you paying me?” Vern smiled and poured himself another glass of whiskey before replying.

“Grange. His name is Grange. And you’ll get eight thousand dollars for bringing him to me. Four now and four when he’s in my possession, alive,” Vern added as an afterthought.

“You’ll have to give me quite a bit of time but I’ll get the job done for you.”

“I’ll give you three months. That should be more than enough time to finish yoru business here, get to his territory, capture him and return here.”

“Wouldn’t it be easier to have some of your little gophers here to go get him?” Brendon asked with a frown. “It sure would save you a bit of money.”

“Yes it would but Grange would recognize the scent of the pack that made him. You however smell no different than any other man and he won’t suspect you. You can get closer than we ever could.”

“So this wolf is powerful?” Brendon asked, making a mental note to tell Grange that he had this young alpha’s paws shaking at the thought of facing him himself, without the help of having Grange already tied up and starved of course.

“He did manage to kill my father.” Vern replied, his voice suddenly sounding very serious. “I wouldn’t underestimate him.”

“Wolves are easy to kill. No challenge at all really.” Brendon stated with a grin and the two beta’s tensed. The bigger of the two, a man with a square head and almost no neck leaned forward and cracked his knuckles.

“Is that right?” he whispered in a voice full of deadly quiet.

“Yep.” Brendon replied with a shrug before pouring a bit more whiskey in his glass and taking a long swig.

The square-headed beta growled and probably would have attacked Brendon had Vern not put a hand on his chest to restrain him.

“Calm down.” he ordered. The beta instantly sat back in his chair, his eyes downcast. Brendon was reminded of a whipped pup and almost told the beta so but a scent reached his nose then. He wasn’t sure how, with the cloying scents already filling this dingy saloon, but reach it it did.

Herbs and sweetness.

Instantly his eyes went to the figure sitting in the shadows at a back table. It was her. He knew because he felt that stirring in his soul. That pull. His entire body responded to just the scent of her and the knowledge that she was there, hidden beneath a thick black cloak and shadows.

“I’ll do it.” Brendon said, forcing his eyes back to Vern.

“Good.” Vern said as if he never doubted for a moment that Brendon would. “One of my Beta’s will get your money to you tomorrow. Four thousand.”

Brendon simply nodded, hoping that that would mean the conversation was over and these wolves would leave. He had business to get down too. Business that was much more important to his immediate future than warning Grange that a pissed off pup of an alpha was wanting revenge on him.

Vern stood and left the saloon, the two wolves at the table following on his heels and the others hidden throughout the saloon following shortly after.

Brendon finished off his whiskey. He tried to tell himself that he was biding his time but really he was building his courage and attempting to strengthen his resolve.

He did not want to do this.

Finally he forced himself to stand on his scuffed black boots. He adjusted his rifle on his back and his gun on his side, readjusted the black hat on his head and then walked out the side door into the alley.

He sensed her coming.

Was she hunting him? Aww hell… this was fixing to get five hundred different types of interesting.