Amanda Carlson - Full Blooded

“Jess, that’s not—”

“Tyler!” I yelled. I was finished with this conversation. “We can talk about this later. If we don’t get this body out of here before Ray arrives, he will bring the entire police force down on our heads. If he finds a dead man in my apartment—I go to jail. Period. We cannot kill the entire police force!”

Tyler physically shook himself and walked over to the body. He crouched beside James and asked, “Do you recognize him?”

“No.” James took in a deep breath, mouth open, nostrils flared. “His scent doesn’t register at all, so I know I’ve never met him face-to-face either.”

My cell phone rang.

It was on the floor in the corner, where my purse had been flung when I’d been attacked. I was surprised it was still intact. I walked over and punched the talk button without looking at the number.

I knew exactly who it was.

“Jessica!” my father roared into the phone. I pulled it several feet away from my eardrum. “What in the hell is going on? Your wolf called to mine for a second time tonight, and you cut me off again! Goddammit! I can’t help you if you keep doing that!” His anger was palpable. It sent a searing, physical wave into the room and attacked my emotions on so many levels.

James’s face was inscrutable. Tyler looked away. They both went back to figuring out how to get the mystery man off the floor, ignoring my conversation completely.

I paced away, back into my bedroom. “I’m sorry, Dad. Honestly, I have no idea what’s going on. I didn’t mean to block you again. It’s nothing I’m doing on purpose. I don’t feel a trigger from you or anything. If I did, I would’ve answered right away.”

“Jessica, just tell me what’s going on down there,” he said, forcibly trying to calm himself. “I’m trying to keep you safe, and it seems I’ve missed the godforsaken mark entirely. This can’t keep happening. I feel you, I know something’s wrong, and I can’t figure out what’s going on. It’s maddening.”

“Dad, my secret is out. There’s no slipping under the radar anymore. Someone knows. There was a rogue waiting for me when I got home. I was careless, thinking about other … things”—there was no way I was going into that—“and I wasn’t paying attention. I have no idea how he got in. It must’ve been the balcony, because I didn’t smell him in the hall. It was a mistake thinking I could fly undetected for even one day.” I sat down on my bed, feeling defeated.

“We made a grave mistake,” my father said. “I made a mis-take when I sent you home. I should’ve listened to my gut. I knew it was going to be risky no matter what we did, but I should’ve kept you here, where I could’ve protected you myself. I was dreaming, hoping the wolves would stay calm. It was a mistake.”

“There was no way you could’ve known for sure,” I said. “None of us knew. We had to try. I don’t regret trying. I liked my life. I’m sorry to see it go.”

After a beat of silence. “Tell me what happened,” he said. “All of it.”

I gave him a complete replay of the entire evening. I started with the imp and ended with walking into my apartment, minus the sexcapade.

When I got to the part about changing only partially into my wolf form, I faltered. “Then I gave physical control over to my wolf … and I started to change … but … I sort of stopped midway through … Um, I’m actually not quite sure what happened …”

His silence was so deep it scared me.

I waited a few beats. “Dad?”

“Did you hold this form for long? Were you able to fight in it?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll be down there first thing in the morning. I’m calling a Pack Council meeting tonight. The entire Council should be able to make it into the city by eight a.m. if they leave now. If your secret is officially out, we will address it then to the whole Pack. This thing will be out and we will deal with it accordingly.”

“Dad!” I shouted. “You can’t leave it like that. What’s going on? You have to tell me what’s going on. Danny said a word … he said ‘Lycan’ to me. What did he mean? I know what a Lycan is, but why did he call me that?”

Lycans were our ancestors, the original werewolves. We evolved from them thousands of years ago. We were different from them now, but I didn’t know exactly how or why.

“Jessica, we will talk about this tomorrow,” he said firmly.

“I want to talk about it now.”

After years of dealing with each other, we’d both learned some very valuable lessons. If my father had no intention of telling me over the phone, he would hang up and that would be that. I would either accept his decision or hold it against him later, making his life harder than it needed to be.

I waited.

He sighed. “Jessica, I don’t know anything for sure, because I haven’t seen it myself, but I think it means you are able to do something no other werewolf has been able to do for thousands of years. There have only been myths and legends floating around about what our ancestors were truly capable of doing.”

“What do you mean?”

He sighed. “A True Lycan has not been witnessed in my lifetime. The term ‘Lycan’ specifically means you are able to maintain a perfect suspended form between beast and human. You are able to shift at will, while maintaining your human form. No other wolf can do such a thing.” He paused. “Including myself.”

Holy crap.

“It’s the ultimate fighting weapon, and it is revered in our legends as unparalleled. In the days of old, Lycans ruled the supernaturals. There were none stronger. We’ve evolved over the centuries to accommodate man, and have lost some of those great abilities.” My dad sounded tired as he added, “There is an old proverb among us that states, ‘He who holds the power of Lycan will be lord over all.’”

I was stunned into complete silence.

“I will be there in the morning. I will stop at the Safe House for an update from Tyler first. You are to stay in your apartment and you are not to leave. Do you understand me?”

“Yes.”

“Jessica, that is a direct order.”

“I understand.”

“Hand the phone to James.”

I did.

I ran a wet washcloth over my face and rinsed the last of the smeared blood down the drain. I’d been avoiding the mirror. Trying to imagine what I looked like as a half wolf, half human didn’t come easily to me.

I squared my shoulders over the sink. It was now or never. The mess in my living room wasn’t going to wait indefinitely.

Lifting my head, I gazed into my reflection.

I looked like my normal self, only more worn out.

My hair was messy, falling everywhere, but it was back to my regular length. I had contusions all over, but they were healing fast. I leaned in closer and saw a violet fleck flash like a banked ember in the farthest reaches of my irises. Calling them yellow now would be silly. There was nothing yellow about them.

I had violet eyes.

Just like my father.

I hadn’t remembered to tell my father that bit of news, but my eye color was the last thing I’d been thinking about. I grimaced in the mirror. Lycan must’ve been a horrid sight. A wolf in its full animal form was the most unbelievably beautiful creature in the world. But half a wolf?

Likely the worst.

The most captivating wolf in the world was my father. The image of him in his true form had been as much a part of me as anything I could remember as a little girl. He was glorious—his fur dark as coal, towering above all others, strong and dangerous, but breathtakingly beautiful at the same time. Truly magnificent.

I stepped away from the mirror, tossing my shredded running shoes into the plastic bag I’d grabbed from under the kitchen sink. My clothes would soon follow.