Annie Nicholas: The Beta

Competent leadership went hand-in-hand with confidence. Tonight, Robert couldn’t find either. The alpha of the Vasi werewolf pack had left Chicago on his honeymoon, which placed Robert, his beta, in charge.

The weight of responsibility crushed him like a big, fat elephant. His goal to keep the pack intact seemed jinxed.

He folded his eyeglasses and placed them in a case, tucking it in his back pocket. If they broke it wouldn’t be a big deal. They weren’t prescription anymore. Becoming a werewolf cured his eyesight. He just wore them out of habit, like a safety blanket.

Before knocking on the apartment door, he took a deep, shaky breath, and prayed it wouldn’t be his last. Burgundy paint cracked and flaked when his knuckles rapped the door.

“What?” a deep voice barked from the other side.

He hated this part of his duties to the pack. It blowed. Why Eric, his alpha, insisted on making him beta was beyond him. Even Daedalus, their vampire trainer, appeared doubtful about the decision. Robert agreed with him. He sucked at confrontation, didn’t like people in general, and preferred computer linguistics over speaking.

Glaring at the door, he restrained his beast who didn’t like being pushed into this situation anymore than he did. “Let me in, Talon.” A thug’s name suited him.

The door cracked open, and a set of dark brown eyes challenged him through a veil of unwashed hair. Talon’s beast had too much control over him. Shifters like him gave their race a bad name. “What’s the problem, Bob?”

A growl rumbled in Robert’s chest at the jibe. “It’s Robert, or do you want me to start addressing you by your given name, Timothy?”

Pulling the door open, Talon loomed over him. “You can address me any way you want, asshole, but I ain’t responsible for my actions.”

This type of macho posturing was why Robert left his old pack before finding the Vasi. He didn’t have time to waste on pieces of shit like Talon and couldn’t care less about werewolf hierarchy. “Actually, that’s why I’m here.”

Robert’s teeth elongated just enough to indicate deadly intent, then he jumped the brute, going straight for the idiot’s jugular. He bit Talon’s flesh hard, not piercing the skin, and they landed on the apartment’s carpeted floor. The scent of stale cigarette smoke permeated from its fibers, making Robert want to gag.

Preferring to remain mostly in his human form, Robert had learned, with a ton of painful practice, to allow his beast’s development in concentrated parts of his body instead of all at once. Now he could grow his claws, teeth, or other things at will. It took concentration and exquisite control to accomplish it. As far as he knew, no other Vasi had this ability.

“So.” He let the word roll in his chest as he spoke around a mouthful of Talon’s flesh.

His prey didn’t struggle, which surprised the hell out of him. He expected…more. But despite the lack of resistance, the smell of fury poured from Talon.

Placing a knee on the thug’s sternum, Robert pressed his one hundred and sixty pound frame on him as he allowed his claws to grow and rest under Talon’s eye. He released his grip on the idiot’s throat. “Rumors are racing through the pack. I thought I’d get the truth from the source.”

Three more days, he only had to keep things together for three more freaking days before Eric and Spice got home.

When Eric won the alpha’s challenge two years ago, Robert thought their problems were over, but they’d only just begun. Thank God, Spice showed up at their doorstep and mated with Eric. The pack needed a strong alpha couple to pull it out of the depravity it had fallen into with the old alpha.

Chicago’s werewolves had grown and matured under their nurturing guidance. They’d chased off most of the troublemakers and supported the weak, but a few issues remained, like Talon.

“Some concerned pack mates called me.” Sweat trickled down Robert’s back as he ground his knee into Talon’s chest. The jerk might be playing nice now, but Robert expected to leave here with quite a few bruises if not worse. “They’re worried you’re going to try something stupid.”

Movement in the window across the room caught Robert’s attention.

Daedalus stood outside on the ledge of the third-story apartment. He gave Robert a thumbs-up then leaned against the frame as if watching a show.

Talon shifted under Robert’s weight and threw him off balance. Landing on his side, he rolled with the force and got to his feet. Years of training with Daedalus, the Nosferatu vampire warrior who surveyed the fight, kicked in.

As his opponent charged, Robert’s heart raced with anticipation. When Talon’s hands reached for him, he twisted out of his way, grabbed his adversary’s head and used the momentum to slam it in the wall.

The plaster cracked and dented inward. Sliding to the floor, Talon lay still.

Robert stumbled back, waiting for retaliation, but his assailant didn’t move. Talon’s chest rose as Robert flipped him over, but his eyes remained rolled back in his head. Robert blinked. Talon was unconscious? He’d won that easily?

Yes! He pumped his arm in victory. All those antacids he’d popped this afternoon were for nothing. His first unofficial challenge, and he ruled.

A tap at the window reminded him of his audience. Heat rose in his cheeks, and he dragged his gaze to his vampire trainer.

Daedalus gestured to open the window, so he scurried over to comply.

“Did you kill him?”

“No.” Robert glanced at Talon’s supine body.

“You’re within your rights. Your pack mates heard him say he was going to attack you.” Daedalus squeezed his six-foot frame through the opening into the apartment. “What a dump.”

“Killing won’t solve my problems. I need to earn the pack’s respect so no one will think to challenge me again, but not this way. Not to mention, killing is illegal.” The idea of murder turned his stomach, though it appealed to his beast. Good thing he always maintained strict control and not the other way around. Too bad he couldn’t say the same for Talon.

Some pack members held poor dominance over their inner beast, losing too much of their humanity as the animal took more and more control of their personality. Some poor souls lost it all and became nothing but animals needing to be put down. The old alpha allowed terrible things like this to happen, which had left the pack a mess.

“In some instances killing is necessary.” Daedalus crossed the room, baring his fangs as he crouched next to Talon.

Robert’s soul shriveled at the sight. “Don’t.” Could he fight the vampire and defend his helpless, yet stupid, pack mate? Sure, but he’d lose.

Daedalus was a gazillion-year-old vampire warrior who thought tossing him around the practice mat taught good fighting skills. After the way Robert just defeated Talon maybe the vampire really knew how to teach. Didn’t mean Robert could defeat his instructor.

Daedalus paused. “It’s a mistake to let him live. He’ll come after you again. Creatures like Talon always do.”

Hanging his head, Robert played with the temptation. Only three more days, then these kinds of decisions went back on his alpha’s shoulders. “Let him be. I’ll deal with it if he didn’t learn his lesson tonight.”

Disappointment passed over Daedalus’s face. Robert hoped it was because of a missed meal and not his decision. He and the vampire were far from best friends, but he did respect the bastard’s opinion.

“Let’s go,” Robert said. “I’m sure there’s still time to find a nice juicy evil-doer before sunrise for you to snack on.” He left the apartment and heard Daedalus close the door as he followed.