CHAPTER 5—sunce, moje?

TATUM DRAKOVIC RHODES.

‘You came to this town because you were looking for her?’

‘Yes.’

‘My sister is your…sorry was your betrothed in another lifetime?’

‘Yes.’

‘How do you know?’

‘Felt it soon as we saw her.’

‘And now you need to be with her? Sex-wise and umm bond wise?’

‘Something like that.’

‘I can’t let you do that. I understand all this but I can’t let you do that.’

‘You have no choice.’

‘I’m her twin. We share the same blood. What if…I become a substitute for her?’

‘We are not fucking you, Saxen. We can’t fuck anyone but her.’

‘But you need her blood now that your mate bond has been activated right? We can be friends w-with blood benefits. My sister’s blood is the same as mine.’

“Kid? Fuck and I turned down beer for this. Tatum?” Coach Marky taps my shoulder, pulling me out of the memories that have been haunting me for weeks.

“Sorry, coach. Uh, you were saying?”

My stick in one hand, my helmet in the other, I stand by the sidelines with one of the men who’s been supportive more than my pops ever had.

And yeah, I know the rumors. They say the Mallow Reapers are sponsored by dear ole daddy so his sons get to stay on every game on the ice.

Nepotism they call it. Nepo babies they call us.

I could give a rat’s ass about their opinions.

“Winning against the Serpents last week doesn’t mean you are all not slacking, Tatum. I could ask what’s going on at home or in your lives outside of hockey but that’s the school counselor’s job, not mine. You get in here, you leave your other shit out the door.”

He’s asked me what was wrong more times than I’ve seen NVU’s counselor so I know he cares.

“Got it.”

Looking to make his point across, he points at my teammates.

“Ronan’s back but the damn bull can’t differentiate between his teammates and his opponents. I’ve lost more of my players to his body checks than I’ve lost my toe nails. Drex’s out ice skating like a ballerina instead of actually getting the puck. Levi, I’m more surprised to say that he’s the only one not moving like my grandma. And my grandmother is dead, boy.”

“I’ll handle it, coach. Leave them to me.”

“I hope so because you are the finest players I’ve had in a while.”

Now I have to grin, despite the hell I’ve been subjected to, the entire week, “You getting soft on us, coach?”

He waves me off, pulling his cap on and walking off the rink.

I watch my brothers and my other teammates train and while they are playing like they’ve never touched a puck their entire life, I gotta admit the truth.

I’m running low on energy. On blood. On everything.

Maybe that’s one of the reasons I head out to the locker rooms, take off my gear before deciding to ditch all my classes.

The wind howls hard against my hair, the same reeking scent of this little town getting under my skin faster than the need building in my gut.

Mallow Creek was a town no sane person would look at twice.

First time, I ever looked at this town, I knew it’d be inhabitable. Yet I forced my brothers to stay, to play hockey here, to become friends with a girl who’d wind up dead.

The common denominator in all that though was that I forced them to stay because of the white-haired chick with the mouth of the devil.

We lost her last time.

We were not supposed to go after her a fourth time.

I made them promise they wouldn’t. I lied.

I park my bike across the street from Candy’s, the diner where the moms of this fine town go to discuss whose husband is sleeping with who, who the sheriff is investigating for theft and vandalism and which girl should be labelled with the whore sticker for sleeping with all their sons.

The diner also happens to be a hotspot for NVU students. Something about aesthetic and all that nonsensical jazz.

I’d lie and say I showed up here out of sheer coincidence but that’s not the case. Not when my wolf traces her blood is like a beacon trailing all the way to where she is.

Digging into my pants for my favorite Zippo, I pull out a cigarette lighting it up as I watch Candy’s front doors slide open.

Ford Kingsley steps out and see, I notice the douchebag but it’s hard not to pay attention to him when he’s dragging his girlfriend by the arm right into the dark alley beside the diner.

The nicotine that I definitely shouldn’t be ingesting, burns my blood. It fires my anger and the million questions that churn my mind.

For example: Why would she date a prick like Ford?

Why would she allow a wimp like Ford to hurt her arm like that?

Why did I let her leave our mansion if she was going to make bad decisions?

It takes Ford a solid two minutes to leave the alley and surprise surprise…he left his girlfriend behind. Alone. In the dark.

I don’t even think for a second as I cross the road, pass Candy’s and dip into the alley.

“F-Ford I can’t—.”

“It’s not Ford”, I cut her off.

Then I make the mistake of standing in front of her and grabbing her by the chin.

“What are you—.”

“Your little boyfriend do that to you?” There’s a cut on her lip. One that wasn’t there when we let her go.

“What’s it to you? You did worse to me than he did.”

“So Ford hit you?” There’s no humor in my voice, not when I take the cigarette from my lips and cage her against the wall. “You’ve got so much fire for me and my brothers but when it comes to him, you act like a coward?”

“You don’t know me, Tatum so back off or I’ll scream. You can’t kidnap me again in broad daylight.”

Wrong, Ronan took her.

Wrong. I know her. I’ve known four different versions of her in four different centuries.

“You won’t scream”, I tell her.

I get close.

Closer to see those mismatched eyes and the hate that had all of us backing away.

“You know why? Because you don’t have it in you to hurt us. Why didn’t you go to the cops and report Ronan?”

“Why didn’t anyone conduct an investigation into Sax’s death? You have the cops in your pocket.” She seethes.

“You could have gone to your daddy. Or do we have your daddy in our pockets too?”

“Get out of my way. Now.”

There’s that fire in her eyes, the one that leaves me panting and has me hating myself for it.

“Which arm did Ford use to hit you?”

“What?” the surprise in her eyes and the little laugh she lets out tells me she thinks I’m joking. Like I could see the cut on her lip and walk away without doing anything.

“Left or right? Though I’m praying, it’s his right arm.”

“Y-You can’t be serious…”

“We’ve got the cops in our pockets, Sage. The minute I cut off your boyfriend’s arm and send it to you as a gift, no one will bat an eye at me or my brothers, said it yourself. Which hand, Sage?”

“Tatum”, her voice is beyond freaked out by now.

That good girl badge she wears on her face starts to break when she realizes I’m as serious as I’ve ever been.

“We didn’t kill your sister. If we had, you’d be the first to know.”

“D-Don’t…don’t talk about her. You…I know you…did it.”

She knows nothing.

“But she might have been killed because of me and my brothers”, I go on, despite the way she bites her bottom lip to stop her unshed tears.

“We need to find the killer, Sage. We can’t do that without your help. The only way to lure out the killer is if…you date me and my brothers.”

I lie.

I need her close.

“You think I’d…”

“Correction. I should have put it nicely. Break up with your boyfriend and start dating us so we can find your sister’s killer or say no to dating us and I’ll find your boyfriend, I’ll slice his arm up, real good before I send you the parts in a cute little bow. What will it be, sunce moje?”