The Vampire Prince is out! We’re celebrating Invisible Day. 

Dor is a precog. He’s only able to see a few seconds ahead of time, and the things he sees are mostly accidents and dangerous situations. For years, he’s been in love with Dante, the vampire prince, and someone is trying to kill him.  

The problem is no matter how many times he saves Dante’s life, he doesn’t recognize him.  

It’s a standalone novella, and you can read the first chapter below! 

The Vampire Prince

People with magic powers don’t have fated mates, nor do vampires, and yet Dor knows he and Dante are meant to be. The problem is that Dante doesn’t see him. He could just as well have been invisible. 

Dante didn’t know someone was trying to kill him until an angry woman gives him a piece of her mind. Apparently, her best friend, Dor, has premonitions and has saved his life several times already. There is something familiar about him, but Dante can’t recall ever seeing him before. He must have if he keeps saving his life, right? 

When the queen, Dante’s maker, learns about Dor’s ability, she wants to hire him to be part of Dante’s guard, and Dante doesn’t mind. He’s intrigued by the quiet man with the fascinating skill and wouldn’t mind having him around. Dor doesn’t think he can protect Dante from anything, but wouldn’t passing up a chance to be close to the love of his life be incredibly stupid? 

Buy Links:

Gay Paranormal Romance: 25,742 words

JMS Book :: Amazon

Chapter 1

Dor Zaman stumbled to a stop on the busy sidewalk. Someone bumped into him from behind and cursed, but Dor couldn’t move, and he couldn’t blink away the vision taking over his awareness. 

Someone would shoot the love of his life, send a stake no bigger than a toothpick through his heart. 

Icy fear gripped him. 

He hadn’t had a vision of his beloved in years. He’d left town, and Dor had been sure he’d never see him again. 

He didn’t know his name, but the connection had been there since the first time Dor saw him when he’d been nothing but an awkward teenage boy. Sadly, his darling hadn’t seen him. Not then, nor any of the other times Dor had been near him. 

He’d saved his life four times, but his beloved had only grunted exasperatedly or cursed at him without remembering they’d met before. Without realizing he’d be dead or seriously injured if it hadn’t been for Dor. 

And Dor didn’t know how to tell him. There had never been a way to say: I saved your life. 

Since Dor hadn’t grown out of the awkwardness when he left his teens behind, he always got tongue-tied in the presence of his darling… and most other people. 

In the past, Dor had pushed him out of harm’s way three times and blocked his way once when he’d been about to get run over by a car. 

Being run over by a car wouldn’t kill a vampire, but the plan hadn’t ended there. The plan had been to ram something through his love’s heart while pretending to check on him. 

Dor couldn’t have allowed it to happen to anyone, but least of all his soulmate. 

As the premonition blocked out the reality around him, his brain whirred. Never before had he had a vision about someone he wasn’t physically close to, so when the vision of the toothpick piercing his love’s heart wound down, Dor looked around. 

He only had seconds. 

His foresight was pretty useless since it only gave him a short duration of time, rarely more than thirty seconds, so he could never warn people about natural disasters or accidents likely to occur if they traveled somewhere. 

Seconds. It was all he was given. 

He scanned the crowd. 

There were vampires, like his love, shifters, and people of elemental power, and then there was him. 

Time. 

Time wasn’t an element. 

Both his parents had earth magic. Their disappointment in how he came out knew no bounds. 

His dad had demanded a paternity test because no son of his could possibly be as flighty as Dor. Those of earth power didn’t get flaky children. And having visions of the future… It wasn’t unheard of, but more myth than reality. 

Dor scanned the throng of people. Was his love here? There was no use in having a vision if he couldn’t do anything about it. 

His mother hadn’t taken the demand of a paternity test well—how could Dor’s dad accuse her of cheating? 

Their union hadn’t survived the conflict, but they both agreed on it being Dor’s fault. 

He didn’t have much contact with either of his parents these days. Some years, one of them remembered his birthday and either sent a happy birthday text or called. It always surprised him when they did. 

There! 

He spotted his love across the street outside the ice cream parlor. Dor hadn’t seen him in years, but he looked the same. Breathtaking. Or maybe it was only Dor’s breath that got stolen at the sight of him. People didn’t appear to stop in their tracks to stare adoringly at his beloved. 

They must be blind. 

His better half had left town, along with most vampires. Dor didn’t know why, but he’d mourned the loss. 

He sprinted out into the street. Cars honked as they hit the brakes, but Dor didn’t care. He only had seconds. If he hesitated, it would be too late. 

His love was deep in conversation with the man by his side—the same man who always was by his side. Both of them held cones with ice cream scoops piled high. 

Dor tackled his love into the guy right as pain bloomed in his upper arm. He grunted as he fell to the ground. 

His darling straightened and glared at Dor as the ice cream splashed on the sidewalk. Some of it landed on Dor’s hand. The cold momentarily distracted him from the stabbing in his arm. 

“For fuck’s sake.” Dark, dark eyes bore into his. There was no sparkling of amusement or signs of concern. Annoyance. It was an emotion Dor was familiar with, but for some reason, it hurt more than it normally did. 

“Sorry.” Dor winced as he pushed to his feet. His knees stung, but it was nothing compared to the throbbing in his arm. He wouldn’t check, but he believed he had a toothpick piercing into his shoulder. He didn’t like blood, so he’d pretend it wasn’t there for as long as possible. 

“Gun!” A woman’s scream sounded from farther down the street, and the guy his love had been talking to grabbed his arm and tugged. 

His darling’s eyes narrowed, and he inhaled deeply. “You’re bleeding.” Fangs peeked out from underneath his upper lip. 

Dor had assumed as much but didn’t dare look yet. He’d hoped his black T-shirt would conceal it, but he could sense a trickle along his arm. 

“I’m fine.” 

Hopefully, the woman who’d noticed the gun prevented the would-be assassin from trying again. Since no new vision swamped his awareness, he believed his love was safe for now. 

“Dante, come on.” 

Dante. Dor gazed tenderly at him. It fit. He looked like a Dante. Dark eyes, dark hair, sun-kissed skin. 

Then cracks spread through his heart. Dante? Not Dante Silversti. Please say it wasn’t so. 

Dante Silversti was the vampire prince, the one meant to rule this city once his mother—maker?—passed on the crown. 

There had been a lot of speculation when the vampires had left, but since no one had taken over the throne, and everyone knew the wolf shifters wanted to, someone must’ve remained in the queen’s place. 

He sighed and watched as Dante’s friend pulled him away. Neither one of them spared him a second glance. 

This was the fifth time he’d saved Dante’s life, and he still didn’t recognize him. Most people treated him as if he were invisible. He was used to it, but it still stung. 

With a deep sigh, he got moving. His arm hurt, and he modified his route to go by Sirona’s place. 

* * * * 

Dor knocked on Sirona’s door. She lived in a lovely cottage-style house in the old part of town. He leaned against the wall next to the door while he waited, careful not to get blood anywhere. 

The door opened, and her frown was instant. “Dor?” 

If he ever wanted proof he wasn’t invisible, all he had to do was go see Sirona. 

“I got shot with a toothpick.” 

She growled. She was a short, curvy, water woman—not a mermaid; she had water magic. Her long dark hair fell in messy waves, and she had flour on the front of her dark blue linen dress. 

She was a nurse, a common profession among those with water affinities. Something about water being the healing element, though his parents would argue earth was the healing element. 

He didn’t much care; he’d have gone to her had she been nothing but a normal human whose job had nothing to do with healing. Her best power, in his opinion, was that she noticed him. 

She sighed, grabbed his unhurt arm, and pulled him inside the house. “What happened?” 

“I was in town when I had a vision about him.” 

“Who?” Her frown was instant, but he could tell she only listened with half an ear. Her focus was on the bathroom, where she kept a first-aid kit. 

“My love.” 

She gave him a quick glance before flicking the light switch on the bathroom wall and guiding him to sit on the toilet lid. “You didn’t tell me you’d met someone new.” 

He winced. He’d tried dating, had been dating, but it never worked out. They’d go on a few dates, hook up a few times, then they grew bored with him. He didn’t mind much since by then he was daydreaming about all the things his true love would do differently from how they did it. 

He was well aware he didn’t know Dante, and maybe this infatuation would go away if he were to spend an hour in his company, but it had been there since he was little more than a child. 

It was different. 

He was pretty sure it wasn’t only in his head. His entire being was tuned to Dante. Despite not having seen him in years, his vision had been about him. And sure, he was the intended victim, but it didn’t mean the people near him on the sidewalk had been safe. 

“Dor?” Sirona shook his shoulder. “Are you having a vision or simply spacing out?” 

“Spacing out. Sorry.” 

She huffed. “Tell me what happened.” She rolled up the sleeve of his T-shirt and made a noise at the back of her throat. “If you wanted a piercing, there are better ways to go about it than to shove a piece of wood through your deltoid muscle.” 

Dor glanced at where his shoulder met his arm and hissed. It hurt more when he saw it. There was a long toothpick still stuck in him. 

“It wasn’t intentional.” He looked away. “Let’s leave it there.” Would it have been stuck in Dante’s heart if it had hit its target? 

Sirona barked a laugh. “Sorry, darling. We have no way of knowing what germs are crawling around this stick. I will not leave it.” 

And then she pulled. 

Dor might have hissed and cursed at her, but then she was cleaning his wound and he breathed a sigh of relief. He didn’t want a piercing in his shoulder, arm, or whichever body part the area belonged to. 

“Now tell me what happened.” She slapped on a huge band-aid and went to wash her hands again. 

He slumped against the water tank. “I was on Station Street when I had a premonition. My darling was to be assassinated. I haven’t seen him in years, so at first I believed my powers had developed, and I was seeing visions of people at greater distance.” Though, for a short blink-of-an-eye moment, he might have believed it was because they were soulmates, and he’d know if his better half was in danger. 

Sirona sighed. “Sweetie, you’re thirty-six. I’d say any hopes of your skill developing sailed away about sixteen years ago.” 

She was right, of course, no one developed past their teens, but was this all he was meant to be? He might as well have been born powerless. 

As if she could read his mind, she patted his hand in consolation. “Then what happened?” 

He took a deep breath. “I searched the crowd and spotted him across the street. I only had seconds, so I ran—” She winced. “—and pushed him out of the way.” 

“Could you please stop putting yourself in danger to save others. You ran across the street? There is a lot of traffic on Station Street.” 

He stared at her. “He was on the other side.” 

A nod. “What did he say?” 

Dor thought back. “For fuck’s sake.” 

She tried not to grin. “Okay, then what?” 

“He glared, told me I was bleeding, and ran off with the guy he was with.” 

Anger made her normally pale blue eyes turn into stormy oceans. “What?” 

“It was good. The shooter was still around, so it was for the best.” 

“The hell it was! Didn’t he at least say thank you?” 

Thank you? Dor stared at her. “I pushed him and made him drop his ice cream.” 

She huffed. “Let him die next time.” 

Dor made a wounded sound. “I don’t think there will be a next time. I suspect he’s Dante Silversti.” 

Her eyes, still stormy oceans, went wide. “Dante Silversti? Is he back in town?” 

Dor winced. “He’s a vampire, has been away for years, and his friend called him Dante.” 

She rubbed her forehead. “Okay. That’s… I don’t know if it’s good or bad.” 

“Bad. It means I can never have him.” He’d have to continue to date idiots or be alone for the rest of his life. 

“So dramatic.” She laughed low. “You don’t know him. It’s a childhood infatuation. I bet he snores, drops dirty underwear on the floor, and spends hours admiring himself in the mirror.” 

Dor frowned at her. “Why?” 

“Because men are slobs. Seriously, what’s so hard about putting your dirty laundry in the hamper?” 

Dor was confused. “I do.” 

She patted his arm. “I know, honey, but you’re an exception. If all men were like you, we wouldn’t have any problems in the world.” 

He highly doubted she was right. 

“Come on, let’s have some ice cream. I bought a new flavor I’ve never had before.” 

“Weren’t you baking?” There was still flour on her dress. She brushed a hand over her stomach and frowned. If he wasn’t afraid it would be interpreted wrong, he’d buy her an apron. She often spilled things on herself when she was in the kitchen. Though he assumed she already owned an apron but didn’t use it. 

“Sourdough, I’ve put it in the fridge to rise until tomorrow.” 

He nodded while following her into the kitchen. He’d never understand baking. 

Some days ago, The Vampire’s Honey, Within the Walls Book 7, was released. It celebrates National Pollinator Week, and is about Leonard, a vampire from the Oakmouth community. He’s tried to get out for years and hopes he can find a place in the Myrfolk community. 

Lynx is a former blood slave who was rescued last year. He’s mostly hidden inside the Myrfolk walls since then, but when he figures out Gertrude is taking advantage of Leonard’s situation, he’s furious. He might not like vampires, but he’s had it with people exploiting other people’s fears. 

Like all previous stories in the Within the Walls series, it’s about a new couple, but they’re best read in order. 

Read the first chapter below! 

The Vampire’s Honey

What price does a vampire have to pay to feel safe?   

All Leonard Badrick wants is to get out of Oakmouth and find a place where he doesn’t have to fear for his life every single day. Somewhere he can live without the threat of his neighbors telling on him. He hopes that place is the community in Myrfolk, if only he can get Gertrude to agree to take him in.   

Lynx Kot is a former blood slave. Last summer, the Myrfolk community saved him from the cage he and three other shifters were kept in. He’s been living with them since then, but he isn’t sure community life is for him. He’s contemplating hitting the road when a vampire he’s never seen before places beehives near his favorite tree.   

Leonard is willing to do whatever it takes for a ticket out of Oakmouth, but when Lynx realizes Gertrude is taking advantage of his desperation, something ignites inside of him. He might not be a fan of vampires, but he knows what it’s like to live in fear, and if Leonard isn’t going to stand up for himself, then Lynx will. Someone has to, right?

Buy links:

Paranormal Gay Romance: 60,255 words

JMS Book :: Amazon

Chapter 1

February 

Leonard Badrick wiped a palm on his thigh and gripped the phone in a tight grip. The darkness was thick outside the window, a layer of snow was on the ground, and the stars were starting to come out. 

He scrolled through his contacts until he found Gertrude Pechtold’s number. 

His heart was beating hard, but he had to try. 

In July, Leonard ran into some people from Myrfolk while leaving the Oakmouth community to find someone to feed from. Finding feeding partners had become harder for vampires, and leaving was now more dangerous, but everyone had to eat. 

Back then, he’d gone to a newly opened blood bar in Wanford. He’d been relieved when it had opened. He’d only been there a few times, but knowing there was a place he could go where he could be pretty sure no one would attack or arrest him was comforting. 

What he’d believed would be a calm night, one he’d hoped to come back from sated and ready to go for another week, had turned into a battle. 

There had been blood slaves hidden in the basement of the bar, and Leonard had helped the Myrfolk residents to free them. He’d hoped it would lead to closer contact, had dreamed that risking his life for their community’s cause would earn him a place there, or at least a plan for how to get out of Oakmouth. 

It hadn’t. 

He’d risked his life but got nothing more than Gertrude’s number, and the bar closed after Dov and Julian, two Myrfolk bear shifters, killed the owner. 

Leonard wasn’t saying the man didn’t deserve to die—he did—but now there was no bar for him to go to when he needed to feed, and the majority of the Oakmouth community were vampires. Which meant everyone was looking for someone to feed from, and Leonard wasn’t the most charming and forward vampire in the world. 

Far from. 

So he dreamed about a life in Myrfolk. From what little he’d seen, the climate there was more harmonious. 

He was sure there were conflicts and problems too, but no one had been rude to him. They hadn’t chased him away with pitchforks or anything, but once he was good to drive back, they’d waved him off without so much as an offer to connect again. 

He’d hoped, still hoped, they’d welcome him there one day. 

He wasn’t certain the Myrfolk community was better, but Jinx had fled from Oakmouth to Myrfolk to keep his daughter safe, and he didn’t appear to be regretting his decision. 

Leonard had to get out of here. 

It wasn’t safe. 

When he’d bought his house, it had been a small community with potential. It had been before the humans’ war on supernaturals had started—it hadn’t been problem-free, but he could go into town without risking his life. Then, as the climate had hardened, more and more shifters had moved away. 

Leonard wasn’t sure why. 

It wasn’t until Czar, their current leader, took over that he felt the need to move on, but then it was too late. Czar didn’t allow anyone to leave. He surveyed everyone, and if he suspected, only for a moment, someone going against him, he dealt with them. 

Oakmouth had become a place where everyone monitored everyone and reported back to Czar. One wrong move, and your life turned to hell. 

Which was why his heart threatened to escape his body as he dialed Gertrude’s number. If Czar knew he called another community leader, he’d most likely be killed in the square as an example of what happened if you went behind his back. 

Several signals rang through, then the call connected. He sucked in a breath as he waited. 

“Gertrude speaking.” 

Leonard cleared his throat. “Eh… hello, Gertrude, it’s Leonard Badrick from Oakmouth.” He winced at his stilted words. 

“Leonard, how are you?” She didn’t sound annoyed, which allowed him to take a breath. Czar could get annoyed simply by someone interrupting him, but then he’d get angry if someone failed to report something too, so there was no winning. 

“I’m… eh… okay.” 

“Yeah?” She sounded amused. “Are you sure?” 

His heart raced in his chest. From what he’d seen, Gertrude was different from Czar, but he wasn’t sure he could trust a community leader to joke with him. 

“Yes.” He straightened his back and wiped his free hand on his jeans. “I… eh…” 

Silence fell. He didn’t know how to continue. 

“What can I do for you?” Gertrude’s voice was hesitant, and he didn’t blame her. 

He took another deep breath and steeled himself. She couldn’t hurt him from where she sat, unless she called Czar and told him Leonard had reached out to her, but he doubted she would. They weren’t on speaking terms as far as he was aware. 

“I have a few bee hives, but I suspect all but one colony has died.” 

“Oh.” 

“I fear there isn’t enough to feed them here. I’ve fed them extra, of course, but last season I couldn’t harvest any honey, and I think it’s because there are no flowers for them to feed from, or few flowers, I should say. Bees are phenomenal at finding flowers, but…” He rubbed his forehead. 

Oakmouth mostly consisted of paved surfaces and lawns. There was little to no diversity. There were some trees, but those that bloomed only did so for a short period, not the entire season. 

Gertrude most likely didn’t want to hear about bees, though. Whenever he started talking about them, people looked around as if they were waiting for someone to come save them. 

Gertrude waited. 

“The cabin I stayed in back in July, is it still empty?” Maybe one of the blood slaves they’d saved had moved in or planned on moving in. 

“It is.” Her voice gave nothing away. 

“I knocked on the hives today, and I only heard a buzz in one of them. I hope I’m wrong, but I suspect it means only one colony has survived the winter, and I was thinking…” Here came the tricky part. “You have a lot of plants within your walls. If I could put a hive by the house I was staying at, it would be away from where people move around, but the bees would still find their way to Rue and Chaton’s garden.” And there was a small forest and a meadow along the wall. He hadn’t seen it, but Gilbert had told him there was a meadow they never cut, which hopefully meant it had loads of native flowers for pollinators to feed from. 

“You want to place a beehive in Myrfolk?” Her tone still didn’t reveal any emotions. 

“Yes.” He squeezed his eyes shut and waited. 

“Isn’t it a lot of work to move bees? And then you have to drive for four hours, one way, every time you need to tend to them. Don’t they need looking after regularly during summer?” 

They did, or there was a risk they’d swarm, and he’d lose them all, or half of the bees and most of his harvest. 

“Yes.” He didn’t elaborate. Driving four hours and then four hours back simply to check on them was insanity. The gas money would eat up any profit he’d get from the honey, but it was a price he was willing to pay if it allowed him a chance, however slim, to strengthen his relationship with the Myrfolk community. 

They might not allow him to join them this year, but if he were there frequently enough, they’d hopefully soon begin to see him as part of them, and maybe, he’d be able to transfer at some time in the future. 

The people in Myrfolk faced the same hardships they did in Oakmouth—more hardships when it came to food, since Oakmouth always had access to meat. But he’d give up meat in exchange for being able to go outside without looking over his shoulder to see who was watching him. He’d be willing to starve a little if it meant he wouldn’t have to fear getting killed and tortured on a whim. 

Czar wasn’t sane, but sadly, the majority of the people living there supported him. Leonard didn’t believe there would be any change coming in a long time. 

“What do I get?” 

He jumped at Gertrude’s voice. His mind had run away with him before he’d managed to implement the first step of his plan—to gain access to the Myrfolk community. 

“What do you want?” 

“How much honey does one hive generate?” There was a rustle, as if she was curling up on a couch or something. He could picture it. He’d been in her living room. She’d served tea. It had been so at odds with how Czar acted, he hadn’t been sure it hadn’t been a dream. 

“These last few years, next to none.” 

“But you want to move them here because you believe the bees will do better within the walls.” 

“Have you seen Oakmouth?” 

She huffed. “It’s not a place I frequent often, for obvious reasons.” 

He found himself smiling. “No one keeps a garden here, and there isn’t much point in keeping bees when I have to feed them all the time to keep them alive.” 

“So because we have gardens, you believe they’ll do better?” 

He nodded despite her being unable to see it. “A normal yield is forty to sixty pounds of honey, but eighty to a hundred isn’t unheard of. It all depends on the health of the colony.” 

She was silent, and he waited while his heartbeats thudded in his ears. 

“Okay, I want twenty-five pounds of honey for every hive you put on community land.” 

His heart somersaulted. “What?” 

“If you have a low yield of forty, you still get some honey for yourself, and if you have a high-yield, you’re still doing better than you have these last few years.” 

“I need money to pay my bills and the tithe to Czar.” His house was paid off. He’d bought it a long time ago when the world had been a better place. 

“Are you a full-time beekeeper or do you have another income?” 

He rubbed his forehead. Could it be called full-time when it didn’t generate any money? “I fill in at times when they need someone to deliver meat, but yes, it’s my full-time…occupation.” He gave a mental cackle. A full-time beekeeper with one hive. Pathetic. 

“How have you paid your bills and the tithe? Or is the tithe ten percent of what you make?” 

“It’s a set number, ten percent of the average monthly salary.” How much was the tithe in Myrfolk? Was it ten percent of every person’s salary? It was favorable to Oakmouth, but maybe he wouldn’t be able to afford to live there even if his bees thrived, and he somehow managed to get out. 

Jinx hadn’t said anything about how the community worked. Leonard didn’t blame him. They both knew he risked his life simply by talking to Jinx, and now that he was firmly out of Oakmouth, they had no reason to. It was he who sometimes called Jinx when he needed a reminder of there being a world outside the community, but he never asked Jinx to risk his or Ximena’s safety by asking questions that could get them in trouble. 

Gertrude was quiet for a few seconds. “How have you been able to pay the tithe?” 

He didn’t want to talk about this. “I had some money saved.” 

“Had, as in it’s gone now?” 

“I’m sure you’re aware of how expensive everything has grown lately.” 

She made a snuffling sound. “I have a community to feed. I’m well aware of the prices.” 

Leonard almost laughed. A community to feed? She had a community to feed her. He didn’t think any community leaders suffered greatly. But from what he’d seen, Myrfolk was still the better option. 

“I need my hives to make a profit this year, or I’ll be in trouble.” Ice filled his veins. He wasn’t lying. He might have some money tucked away, but it was dwindling fast, and without a steady income, he wouldn’t last much longer. 

There was no help to be had in Oakmouth. Czar wouldn’t take pity on him if he couldn’t pay his way, and no one would feed him if he couldn’t afford groceries. 

“Me having my bees there will help you. I’m sure Rue’s magic makes the plants thrive, but bees will help with the pollination and increase his yield.” He didn’t know if the other magic user they’d saved back in July had stayed in the community. If she had, they had two magic users who could make things grow. Still, pollinators would help. 

“How much?” 

He couldn’t tell if she was curious or if this was part of their negotiation. “Studies show an increase of thirty to sixty percent in crop yields.” 

“That might be, but is it our kind of crops? As you said, the land within the walls is diverse. I’m sure we already have plenty of wild pollinators around.” 

Most likely. “When it comes to berries, the increase is much larger. Some studies show a three hundred percent increase.” He didn’t know if it was true, but he’d read it was. Did they have many berries within the walls? He’d walked past Rue and Chaton’s garden a few times, and there had been beans and tomatoes, cucumbers and zucchinis, leafy greens and cabbages, but had there been berries? He hadn’t walked around the house to the back. Maybe there were berry bushes there. 

“Three hundred? Can something increase by three hundred percent?” 

“It’s what I’ve read.” 

“Hmm.” 

He waited. “Okay, twenty pounds of honey per hive.” 

He gritted his teeth. “Then I get to keep my beekeeping equipment in the house.” 

She was quiet for some time, his heart blocking his throat, then she huffed. “Deal.” 

His breath stuttered. “Deal?” He couldn’t believe it. 

“Yes, deal. You’ll give Rue and Chaton twenty pounds of honey when it’s harvesting time, and you’re allowed to utilize the house when tending to the bees.” 

Leonard was light-headed. It wasn’t the same as allowing him to stay, but it was huge. “Can I move the hives tomorrow?” 

“In the middle of winter?” 

Spring was approaching. “They’re not leaving the hives at the moment, it’s too cold, and I can’t open the silent ones to check if there is life, because then they’ll freeze. But come March, they’ll start flying around. I want them situated before then.” 

“All right. Give me a call when you’re at the gate.” 

Leonard nodded. “Will do.” 

“Okay, see you tomorrow.” 

“Yes, tomorrow. Thank you.” 

“Bye, Leonard.” He didn’t dare trust the warmth in her voice. 

* * * * 

Leonard hitched his trailer to his car and stared at his hives. He’d only had three colonies back in the fall, and now he feared he only had one. He’d move them all anyway. 

The sun had yet to rise, and he hoped he’d get out of here before anyone spotted him. He didn’t want to explain what he was doing. 

As quickly as he could, he got the honey extractor, his beekeeping suit, frames, and other equipment into the car. It wasn’t all he owned, but he didn’t think he could explain moving the honey extractor without people getting suspicious, so he wanted it out of here before anyone took notice. 

They believed him crazy to keep bees, and few took any interest, but if someone spotted him moving equipment, they’d report it to Czar. 

The fear of being caught left him weak-kneed, but he moved as fast as he could. 

He grabbed the closest hive, thankful for vampire strength as he carried it toward the trailer. He then loaded the other two as well, grabbed the stands they were on, and contemplated bringing honey supers from inside the house. 

“Are you moving?” Agatha, his next-door neighbor, was glaring at him from the edge of his driveway. 

They’d never been close, hardly ever spoke. 

Leonard did his best to conceal his fear. He would not grab anything from the house, not with her watching. “Moving the hives before they wake up for the spring.” 

“Move them to where?” 

Fuck. “To where there are more plants.” 

Her eyes narrowed, but he did his best to ignore her and reached for a ratchet strap to secure the hives. He should bring extra feed for them. 

Agatha studied him without saying a word. She looked like she planned to stand there and watch him, but he prayed she had to run off to work soon. If she peeked inside his car and saw all the stuff he’d shoved in there, he’d be in trouble. 

Once he was satisfied with how he’d secured the hives, he looked at her. He should go inside and grab sugar fondant for the still living bees, but he didn’t know if he dared to while she was watching. He couldn’t leave her near his car where she could peek in through the windows. There might be some feed in one of the boxes he’d already put in the car. Hopefully. 

Thank heavens it was still dark. He hoped it meant she wouldn’t be able to see all the things he’d packed. 

She crossed her arms over her chest and gave him a challenging look. Nope, he wouldn’t grab any sugar fondant. He needed to go, now, before she called attention to what he was doing. He’d have to go back to Myrfolk in a few days if he couldn’t find sugar among the things he’d packed. 

The most important thing was to get out of here before anyone could think of stopping him. The rest would have to come later. He’d grabbed the big things. 

He hoped Gertrude wouldn’t get annoyed with him showing up too frequently. He had to keep it at a good level. Not too often, but not so seldom people forgot about him, or the bees got out of hand. 

“Have a nice day.” He opened the door to the driver’s seat and slipped in without giving Agatha a second look. He needed a believable story in case she reported him to Czar. 

Where could he say he’d moved the hives? 

So far, Czar hadn’t cared what he did with them. As long as he paid the tithe, he didn’t care, but if he moved them outside the community, he might. He didn’t like anyone being where he couldn’t keep an eye on them. 

His hands trembled as he drove toward the gate. The Oakmouth community wasn’t surrounded by a wall like Myrfolk, but all roads had boom barriers operated by guards. They hadn’t before, but Czar had installed them after the whole Jinx debacle. 

He slowed as he neared the barrier. Drystan, a fellow vampire who always wore black clothes and sported a scowl along with several scars both on his hands and arms, walked up to his window. He might have scars in other places too, but Leonard had never seen him without clothes. A black T-shirt was the most undressed state he’d seen him in. 

Drystan looked at the trailer with narrowed eyes. “Where are you going?” 

“I’m moving my hives to their summer placement before they wake up for the spring.” He kept his face blank. Normally, he liked talking about bees, but now he hoped he’d be waved forward. 

Drystan frowned, then he shrugged and pressed a button to open the boom blocking the road. Leonard didn’t waste any time. He got the car rolling while his heart banged frantically in his chest and drove toward Myrfolk. 

He’d been too nervous to eat any breakfast, and when he reached Wanford, which was about halfway, his stomach was growling. He didn’t want to waste money on fast food, and he didn’t dare walk into a grocery store. He did in Oakmouth, but there he was pretty sure he wouldn’t be attacked. Here, he didn’t know how people would react. Wanford didn’t have a community, so people weren’t as used to supernaturals. 

He didn’t think anyone would know he was a vampire on sight, but once he’d used his card, they’d be able to see since he was registered. 

He might as well get used to starving, with Gertrude demanding twenty pounds of honey. He went cold. He hoped she wouldn’t demand sixty. What had she said? Would he owe her sixty pounds if he put all three hives in Myrfolk, even if only one colony was alive? 

Fuck, he’d been too nervous to think straight. 

The gnawing hunger in his gut was replaced by worry. 

Maybe he should turn around. 

No. If he owed her sixty pounds, he’d simply have to give her sixty pounds. If he could scrape sixty pounds together. 

This was a long-term plan. He’d survive until he could get out of Oakmouth. 

About two and a half hours later, he could glimpse the walls of the Myrfolk community and called Gertrude. 

“Good morning, Leonard.” 

He was surprised by the amused tone. “Eh… good morning. I’m outside.” 

“Already? You must’ve driven in the middle of the night.” 

“Early morning.” 

She snorted. “I’ll meet you at the gate. Bye.” She hung up before he could reply, and he blew out a shaky breath. Calm down. He didn’t want to walk out there smelling of nerves. 

He parked outside the gate, doing his best not to block anyone’s way. 

When he got out, he stretched and winced. 

“Hey, man!” Arnou, a wolf shifter he’d gotten to know a little back in July, waved at him from the other side of the gate. 

“Hey.” 

“What’s going on?” He neared the gate but made no move to open it. Gabriel, one of the few vampires in the community, watched them from on top of the wall but didn’t make any motion of wanting to join the conversation. Leonard gave him a wave anyway. He hadn’t spoken to him, but he too had been there when they’d freed the blood slaves. 

“I’m moving my bee hives here.” 

Arnou widened his eyes. “Bees? Are you insane?” 

Maybe. Before he had time to answer, Gertrude came walking. She looked at the trailer and nodded. 

“Three?” 

“I think there is life in only one, but one can dream, right?” And if they thrived here, he might be able to get a nucleus hive, though he didn’t dare hope for it yet. 

Should he ask Gertrude if his having three hives meant sixty pounds of honey? No, not when there was an audience. 

“Okay. There are no vehicles inside the walls, so…” She pursed her lips. “Are they heavy?” 

“Eh… they’re not light. Can I unhook the trailer from the car and pull it with me?” 

She looked at the gate. There was a door in the iron fence meant for people to walk through, but he believed the entire section could be opened. 

“Sure, let’s open it and we’ll pull the trailer.” 

While Arnou got started on the gate, Leonard opened the car and placed the honey extractor and the other things he’d hidden in the trunk and backseat on the trailer. 

“Wow, that’s a lot of things.” Gertrude walked closer to him. 

“I have more left in Oakmouth. I didn’t bring any honey supers, and I have more frames and things, but I didn’t want anyone to get suspicious, so I’ll simply have to sneak out a few things at a time.” 

Gertrude narrowed her eyes. “I see why you wanted use of the house.” 

He forced himself to appear relaxed. If she had any idea of why he wanted access to the cabin, she most likely wouldn’t be as accommodating. 

He wanted that cabin, didn’t see how he’d ever afford to buy it since he didn’t think he’d be able to sell his house in Oakmouth, but he wanted it. Jinx’s house was still untouched from when he’d moved out over a year ago, and Czar wouldn’t allow anyone to go near it. He was pretty sure he’d suffer the same fate if he ever managed to leave, but he wanted the cabin here. 

There were no visible neighbors. Julian, Dov, and Gilbert lived nearby, but their houses were hidden behind trees. It was a slice of paradise as far as Leonard was concerned. 

If it were his, he’d fill the garden with flowers for the bees. Or maybe he would grow vegetables like Rue and Chaton and have something to eat during summer, since he soon would be out of money. 

Vampires could survive without solid food. It wasn’t pleasant, and it wasn’t pretty, but he didn’t need to eat to exist. 

He’d be a danger to everyone around him, but he’d survive. 

Arnou appeared by the side of the trailer. “What’s that big thing?” He pointed at the honey extractor. 

“It’s to get the honey out of the frames. You fasten them inside and spin them, so the honey is forced out. Then you pour it from the tap.” 

He nodded but looked a little confused. “Are you sure they won’t sting you?” 

“They’re locked inside the hive at the moment, but I have the beekeeping suit on when I mess around with them.” He gestured at the suit he’d placed next to the extractor. “They don’t want to sting you. A bee dies after having stung someone, so it’s not like they’ll attack without reason.” 

Arnou snorted. “My experience is they’ll attack.” Then he shrugged. “All right, so where are we taking this?” 

“You’re on guard duty.” Gertrude sounded exasperated. 

Arnou whined like a discontent child, which had Leonard staring. Had someone done that around Czar, they would likely lose a limb… or their head. 

Leonard grabbed the handle by the coupler and carefully pulled the trailer with him. Better to get moving before any blood flowed. 

Gertrude fell into step next to him, and together they walked through the open gate. 

“So they’ll wake up soon?” 

He nodded. “Yeah, they’ll normally start flying on the first warm days in March.” 

She nodded. “And what will they eat then? There are no flowering plants in Rue and Chaton’s garden right now.” 

“Any early spring bulbs?” 

“Maybe a few crocuses and snowdrops, but not much until there are daffodils.” 

“Alder and hazel?” 

She gave him a clipped nod. “I’m bad at trees, but I know there are a few hazel trees. Chaton picked nuts last year.” 

“Good, they bloom now and will provide early food for the bees.” 

It was strange to walk through the community with Gertrude by his side. A few people peeked out their windows at them, but it was a cold, gray day, so there wasn’t much activity. He wondered what they did all day. In Oakmouth, people worked in the meat industry. Myrfolk had always had restaurants and nightclubs, but they’d been forced to close all but a few, so what did people do? No one hired supernaturals these days, so unless they had some business Leonard didn’t know about, he suspected the unemployment percentage was high. 

They passed Namir’s and Jinx’s house, and Leonard looked longingly toward it. Jinx had gotten out. He was sure Czar would kill him if he ever got close to Oakmouth, but he was safe while inside the walls. 

He glanced at Gertrude. He didn’t think Gertrude had it in her to hurt a child, and Jinx had Ximena. Czar had no qualms about using children, but he didn’t think Gertrude would. 

They came up to Rue’s garden, and Leonard wanted to linger and look around, but Gertrude kept going. He spotted cabbages and kale, but nothing flowered. He couldn’t see any berry bushes either. 

“Do they have berry bushes?” 

She shook her head. “I think there might be a current bush or two toward the edge of the property. Jagger might have some, though I think there are mostly fruit trees in his and Ty’s garden.” 

Leonard nodded. “Bees like fruit trees.” He didn’t know Jagger or Ty, and he didn’t know where they lived. Next door, maybe? The house ahead of them looked deserted, so most likely not there. 

They passed a few more houses, then the square, and then they entered the small forest. Soon, the cabin came into view. 

“Still here.” Gertrude smiled at him, but it looked a little forced. 

He pulled the trailer over the frozen grass before letting go of the handle and looking around. It looked like he remembered it. A slice of land framed by trees. Perfect. 

“They want the entrance facing south or southeast to get morning sun.” He grabbed his phone and opened a compass. “So facing this direction.” He pointed south-south-east. 

“Okay.” She nodded. 

Leonard grabbed the stands and placed them in a row. Some people kept colorful hives, but his were made of cedar wood. He found them prettier, they looked more like they belonged in nature than something red or blue or yellow. 

He undid the ratchet straps and reached for the first hive. Was there a faint buzz? He leaned closer. Vampire hearing was good, but he didn’t dare believe what he was hearing. He’d been sure this colony was dead. 

“How’s your hearing?” Did tigers have better hearing than vampires? 

Gertrude walked closer. “What are we listening for?” 

“A buzz.” 

She too, leaned closer. “I think there is a low buzz.” 

He let go of the hive and knocked on the one he knew there was life in. 

“Much louder there.” 

Hope still sparked. “Do you have any insulation, Styrofoam, something?” He couldn’t open the hive; it was too cold, but if he could save the ones still alive, it would help a lot. 

Gertrude stared at him as if he’d lost his mind. “Why?” 

“If the queen is still alive, they can recover, but with few bees, they won’t be able to keep warm enough.” 

“Huh. We can… Jasper might have something. He often builds things.” 

Leonard was aware there were wrappings one could buy to keep on hives during winter, but he didn’t have any. 

He carried the hives to the stands, checked so everything looked okay, and made sure the small entrances to the hives were open in case any bees wanted to get out. It was too early, but soon. 

“Is Jasper home?” He looked at Gertrude and prayed they’d come up with some solution. If the queen were dead in the hive, there wasn’t much he could do, but if she was still alive and some of the worker bees were too, then maybe he could save them. 

“Let’s check.” Gertrude turned to walk back the same way they’d come, and he hurried to follow. 

A few days ago, Solitary Witch was released! The day we’re celebrating is One Day Without Shoes. 

Acier is a witch who is captured by werewolves. He manages to escape, but the only place he can think of hiding where the wolves won’t follow is in Vampiretown. The problem is he’s running without shoes, and he accumulates a few cuts. Vampires go crazy over witch blood. 

But he’ll solve that problem when he gets there… if he gets there. 

Read the first chapter below! 

Solitary Witch

When running from werewolves, hide in Vampiretown!

All Acier Le Doux wants to do is live a quiet, peaceful life away from witches, shifters, and vampires. As a witch on the run from his coven, he’s fully aware it’s a near-unattainable dream, but he hadn’t believed it would be werewolves who messed it up for him.

Abduction is so out of fashion, is it not?

He only gets one chance to run, and when it presents itself, he takes it. The problem is he’s now a witch on the run from both werewolves and witches, and there is only one place he can go. No wolf would ever follow him into Vampiretown. The problem is he’s not sure he’ll be able to leave there with his life intact. Vampires go crazy over witch blood, or it’s what he’s been told, at least. But better a little short on blood than living in captivity, right?

 Buy links:

Paranormal Gay Romance: 38,534 words

JMS Books :: Amazon

Chapter 1

Ever impersonated the monster under the bed? Acier Le Doux hadn’t before now, either, but needs must. Or maybe this was all unnecessary. He wasn’t sure.

He held his breath as he listened for sounds in the corridor outside his prison cell.

It wasn’t the kind of cell with bars over the windows. No, it had three huge arched windows taking up most of the wall facing the yard. The bed had been thrown in as an afterthought, most likely after the wolves had managed to grab him.

He couldn’t believe he’d allowed himself to be taken. How could he have let his guard down so much he hadn’t noticed someone approaching—several someones.

Hiding was what he did. For years, it was what he spent most of his time doing. Hiding from the wolves, so they couldn’t kidnap him and force him to work for them. Hiding from the vampires, so they wouldn’t eat him—vampires had a thing for witch blood. Hiding from other witches, so they wouldn’t kill him or force him into a coven.

He refused to be in a coven.

He’d gotten out.

He’d built a life for himself.

He’d been happy. Or somewhat happy at least.

And now the wolves had ruined everything. He had to get out of here before it was too late.

They were planning some fucking ceremony to bind him to the pack, and while he didn’t think they’d be able to, he couldn’t allow it to happen in case they knew something he didn’t.

He wanted to believe he was superior when it came to magic. It was what his species did after all, whereas the shifters’ main thing was to turn into animals, fight for dominance, and growl at each other. Not super productive, but to each their own.

They could do whatever the hell they wanted as long as they left Acier alone.

Sadly, they weren’t planning on leaving him alone.

They needed him. He wasn’t entirely sure for what, but it had something to do with power. It was always about power, wasn’t it?

Witches had a reputation of being deadly creatures, and Acier wished it were true. He wouldn’t argue against covens being downright cruel at times, but as a solitary witch, there wasn’t much he could do.

In general, shifters owned large areas of land outside of cities, and vampires owned the cities. Not entire cities. There were humans, some other strange beings like psychics, and he was pretty sure he’d met a jinni once. Maybe. They’d been some species that didn’t fit with anything he’d interacted with before.

But the vampires ruled the business districts. They wore perfectly fitted suits, whereas shifters wore torn jeans and T-shirts. Clothes that wouldn’t hurt their wallet too much if they happened to rip during a hurried shift.

Acier feared he would have to disappear into Vampiretown. It was the only place the wolves wouldn’t follow—or they might follow him there, but they couldn’t break in and grab him without consequences.

Given he managed to get in somehow.

It had taken him some time in this town before he figured out where Vampiretown was, but once he’d seen the fenced-in buildings, he’d known what he was looking at. Old, beautiful houses. And the fence… He was pretty sure no one put a toe inside without a vampire security team knowing about it.

But first of all, he needed to get out of here.

He believed he’d been in this room for about three weeks. The first days were a blur. They’d knocked him out, and he’d lost track of time there for a bit.

One thing he was sure of was that time was running out. They were planning their fucking ceremony to turn him into their slave, and he believed it would happen today or tomorrow.

He hadn’t escaped the rule of the coven only to be forced in under someone else’s command.

Filling his lungs with air and slowly blowing it out did little to calm his heart. He wasn’t sure if they could hear his pulse. They could if they were close. Shifters had great hearing, but he didn’t think they could hear it through walls. Which was why he was playing at being the monster under the bed.

There were always two guards out in the corridor, but when they’d delivered his breakfast, he’d heard one of them had to go meet the alpha after lunch. That left only the creep the ceremony would bind him to.

The meeting had something to do with the ceremony, so it could be his future husband who’d been summoned, but from what he’d managed to piece together, he didn’t have any power, so Acier believed it was the other guy who’d leave.

They were to fix the final touches.

He was unsure of what role his future husband had in the pack before they managed to kidnap Acier. He was far from the top tier, but maybe he had some special skill since he’d be able to force-mate Acier.

Did wolves have special skills?

Their hierarchy was built on dominance. An individual was more or less dominant; it was ingrained in their being, but did they have special skills? More or less magic? More or less psychic abilities?

He knew next to nothing about shifter magic, but no mate bond could form without consent, which was where the ceremony they were planning came into play. They were going to force him to accept the bite somehow.

Since he had no plans of allowing them to trap him like that, he needed to get the hell out of here. Now. Today. Before the one who left came back from his meeting with the top dog.

Acier hadn’t seen the alpha yet and didn’t want to.

There was a murmur of voices. They were too low for him to make out any words, but he believed one of the guards was about to leave.

All he had to do now was to wait.

His intended husband had a hard time staying away from him. There was an unhealthy gleam in his eyes whenever he looked at Acier, so he was sure he would come. Acier had no doubt. Given he was the one who stayed, of course.

He walked in here every chance he got. Without the other guard here to run interference, something he did often, Acier was sure husband-to-be would want to cop a feel when no one was there to stop him.

The other guard had told him to wait, saying something about how it would be harder to sway Acier’s mind during the ceremony if he hated or feared him.

It was too late. Acier was not a fan, and he would not allow them to mess with his brain.

He breathed calmly and waited. Watched some dust dance in his exhalations.

It took longer than he’d believed it would before steps neared the door. They stopped right outside. Hubby dearest was most likely looking in through the window. Which was exactly what Acier had predicted he’d do.

He held his breath and prayed his heartbeats weren’t loud enough for him to hear. He needed him to come look for him.

The door opened, and sturdy boots came into view as his fiancé walked closer to the bed.

He didn’t speak, which was unusual.

Normally, he’d tell Acier all about what he planned on doing to him once they were mated. Acier had never slept with a wolf shifter, but he hadn’t believed they were into blood. It was something he’d written off as a vampire thing. Blood sex. Sounded like a vampire thing, right? But this creep talked about Acier’s blood all the time.

“Come out, come out wherever you are, little witch.” He sounded amused. Acier didn’t mind happy people. They were refreshing, if a bit naive. The slightly unhinged laugh following his words was disturbing, though.

Acier took a deep breath and centered himself. He was a witch, but he wasn’t the most powerful one, so he needed to focus. He closed his eyes, reached inside to the warm glow residing in his chest, and gathered sleep.

As a witch, he couldn’t use magic for anything evil. It was their most guarded secret, and coven or no, it wasn’t one he was willing to reveal. Magic was a funny thing. It wouldn’t allow you to use it to harm anyone, but sleep wasn’t harmful, and if Acier slit the wolf’s throat while he was snoozing, it had nothing to do with magic.

He wouldn’t be slitting any throats. They’d been careful not to allow any weapons near him, as if they believed he could turn them against them.

He couldn’t, but he didn’t mind them thinking he could.

“I can smell you.”

Yeah, that was the problem. He could hide the scent of his body, could pull air around him to create a barrier. It was a neat trick when freezing, keeping warm air around him and preventing it from leaking away, but he could do nothing about the scent of his clothes.

Or he could lock himself, clothes and all, inside a bubble, but then neither sound nor scent would penetrate, and not only would it drain him faster, but he believed he needed to be able to hear when he was sneaking away.

There was a rustle, then hubby dearest sank to his knees. He grinned when he spotted Acier underneath the bed. His eyes were glowing amber, and his teeth were too big for his mouth.

“There you are.”

Acier blew at him, filling his breath with sleep and allowing it to waft over him. The idiot slow-blinked. Once. Twice. Then there was a thud as he fell to his side.

Perfect.

Though Acier suspected he wouldn’t have long. Had the guy been human, he’d be out for an hour or two, but now he feared he only had minutes.

Crawling out from underneath the bed, he tore his clothes off. They smelled of him. They also smelled of sweat and grime. They’d allowed him to shower every third day or so, but they hadn’t given him any clean clothes, which meant they stank.

He got his shirt off and managed to get future-hubby’s T-shirt off him with some difficulty. Wolves were big, bigger than the average human, while Acier was on the smaller side.

He took another deep breath and reached for the magic inside to form a skin-tight air shield around his body, then he slipped the T-shirt on with a grimace. It was warm. Shifters ran a little hotter than witches, but sadly, the shirt wouldn’t stay warm.

He needed to get out of here, and while May had brought sunny days and blossoms, a jacket or at least a sweater would’ve been nice. The shield around him would protect him some, but he wouldn’t be able to keep it up forever.

He dropped his jeans to the floor. A scowl took over his face as he hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his underwear and allowed them to fall too.

Undressing an unconscious man was cumbersome, but he made do. His hopefully now ex-fiancé’s jeans were way too big, and he didn’t wear a belt. Sadly, Acier hadn’t either, though he doubted they’d have let him keep it if he had.

The shoes were a no-go. He’d fall if he tried to run in too-big boots.

He was about to reach for his jilted boyfriend’s socks when there was a sound in the corridor.

Fuck! Was the meeting over already?

He ran barefoot toward the middle window while digging around in his jeans pocket. One of the guards had used a key to unlock it one day to air out the room while Acier had been in the shower, and he believed all guards had the same set of keys.

He singled out a small key from the bunch and prayed it was the right one. It slid into the lock easily, and he blew out a breath. He twisted the handle and pushed it open.

Luckily, they kept him on the bottom floor. There was a small drop to the ground, but not high enough to cause a fracture.

He climbed out. The impact of the landing was jarring, and his knees threatened to fold. Then he made sure his scent was still contained behind his barrier and reached up to push the window closed. He had no doubt they’d notice it was unlocked, but maybe it would take them a few seconds longer than if he left it open.

He crouched and scanned the lawn. He couldn’t see anyone, but it was surrounded by trees, and it wasn’t always easy to see wolves in the forest.

Which way should he go? He had no idea where he was. He believed he was in the pack house, but he didn’t know in which direction to go to reach town.

Left or right?

He ran to the right.

He ran.

And ran.

And ran.

The afternoon was cold. Way colder than a May afternoon should be, or maybe it was because Acier was barefoot and wearing a T-shirt. He feared it meant his magic was waning. He didn’t think so, not yet, but locking the scent in was more important than keeping the air warm.

He was still high on adrenaline as he trudged through the forest, but he’d crash soon.

Using magic for short bursts, like he had when he’d put the guard to sleep, didn’t take too much out of him. Maintaining a magic weave was something else altogether.

The amount of power a witch had stored inside varied from person to person, and the surroundings played a role when it came to how fast it drained.

Witches needed nature, of which there was plenty in the middle of the forest.

Acier wasn’t among the most powerful, but he wasn’t at the bottom of the scale either. How he measured up against other witches didn’t matter right now, though. What mattered was he wouldn’t be able to keep it up for much longer, and he feared he wasn’t far enough away for them not to pick up his trail.

Wolves were fast.

A twig slapped him in the face, and he cursed. He couldn’t be bleeding. Not only was it a dead giveaway for wolf noses, but he couldn’t run into Vampiretown if he was bleeding. They’d take one whiff before descending on him like sharks, and he’d be all out of magic with no way to defend himself.

A howl cut through the air, and every single hair on Acier’s body stood in attention.

Fuck!

He ran faster.

His bare feet slid on a root, but he pushed on. He hoped he wasn’t bleeding. There was no time to stop and check. His magic wouldn’t conceal the scent of blood when it had trickled out of his barrier.

He ran across a creek, took about five steps, and then ran back. Could they scent him if he ran in the water? If he were bleeding, the water would wash it away, right?

It was bitterly cold, and his feet grew numb within seconds, but he ran in the small stream. The water splashed, wetting the too-big jeans he had to hold onto to prevent from sliding off his hips.

He was screwed if they were close enough to hear him, but he pushed the thought away and carried on. For the most part, the river floor was swampy, but the occasional stone or branch cut into the soles of his feet. He was pretty sure he was bleeding now, even if he hadn’t been before. It stung as if he was, but maybe it would stop before he made it into civilization.

If he made it to civilization.

Another howl sounded, this one closer, and Acier’s limbs filled with lead. He ran but didn’t make much progress. The swampy creek floor turned to quicksand.

When the water took a turn in the direction he’d run from, he jumped out of the stream and continued through the forest. He was fading, so he dropped the weave capturing his scent, and focused all his energy on running.

Shivers took over his body, and he realized with dread it wasn’t only because he was cold and wet. He needed food and rest. His powers were exhausted, and if they caught him now, he wouldn’t be able to use any magic at all. He wouldn’t be able to protect his mind from whatever they were planning on doing to him.

He couldn’t get caught.

His feet were like ice clumps, but he kept on running. His breath rasped in his chest, and he tasted copper at the back of his throat. It didn’t matter. He had to keep going.

He was trembling, but he kept putting one foot in front of the other.

The forest changed. Up until now, it had mostly been pine, but he found himself running between white trunks of birch trees. The bright green of newly opened leaf buds changed the light.

An engine sounded in the distance, and he almost came to a stop. What if it was them?

They couldn’t scent him from a car, could they? Maybe they could, but could they drive a car in the woods? Or was there a road nearby?

No matter how much he wanted to, he couldn’t run on a road. He was too easily seen there, but if he could find a road, he could follow it.

He crashed through the birch forest—one arm held up to protect his face, and a finger of his other hand hooked in one of the belt loops to prevent the jeans from falling off and tripping him.

The road was a gravel one.

It dashed his hopes. If it had been paved, it might have led him to the city, but gravel?

He turned left. Right or wrong, he didn’t know, but taking a right felt like running back. He could’ve been completely turned around and might be following the road back to the pack house, but his gut told him to go left, so he did.

There was no traffic. He didn’t know if it was good or bad—or it was bad since no traffic most often meant he was far from civilization—but meeting a car out here could mean capture.

He kept running, but he wasn’t much faster than walking.

He was stumbling.

Staggering.

Hobbling.

His feet were bleeding, but there was nothing he could do about it.

He drifted off into a daze where all that mattered was putting one foot in front of the other.

He didn’t know how long he’d been running, but when a howl sounded in the distance, he was sure it hadn’t been long enough.

Had they found his trail?

There was an answering howl and then another.

Fuck, they’d found him.

A burst of adrenaline grabbed hold of him, and he ran faster.

After a minute or two, he neared the road again. He’d followed it but had stayed far enough away not to be seen from a car. Now he ran up right next to it.

It was paved.

He almost sobbed. He’d missed when it’d gone from gravel to paved. If it was paved, he had to be closer to the city, right?

To spare his feet, he stepped onto the road and ran as fast as he could.

He didn’t hear the wolves, but he feared they’d be upon him any second now.

Ahead were road signs.

Acier ran faster, or tried to. He wasn’t sure his legs moved any faster than they had before. There was a sound of a car driving in the distance, and he realized the road signs were at an intersection.

He rushed forward, waving his arms and hoping the car would slow since there was no way he’d reach the intersection in time to block it.

The car slowed, and he forced himself to run faster.

The car passed him, but at a slow pace, and he ran after it, frantically waving.

It stopped.

A middle-aged woman peered at him from inside the car. She made no effort to open the door or roll down the window.

“Help.” Acier didn’t know if she could hear him through the closed door, but maybe she could read lips. Was he naive to think a middle-aged woman couldn’t be a wolf shifter?

Finally, she rolled the window down. She didn’t speak, but she raked her gaze over him.

“Sorry to bother you. Could you drive me to the police station?” He wouldn’t go to the police. Supernaturals didn’t go to the police, but the station was in the middle of the city. He’d only have to travel a few blocks from there to make it to Vampiretown.

Getting into Vampiretown would be harder, but he’d figure out a way when he got there.

“Are you in danger?” The woman frowned, and he nodded.

“I was kidnapped. They kept me in a house in the middle of the woods, but I managed to escape.” A howl cut through the air. “They’re chasing me.”

If she were human, she most likely wouldn’t know wolf shifters existed, and telling her they did would lose him his chance of getting a ride. She’d heard the howl, though. Whether she believed it was a shifter or a normal wolf didn’t matter, but she must’ve realized it wasn’t safe to run around in these forests.

“Okay. Get in, and I’ll drop you off at the police station.”

“Thank you.” He opened the backseat door and slid in behind her. He didn’t know if she’d have wanted him to sit in the passenger seat where she could see him properly, but it would take a few extra seconds for him to walk around the car.

“Go.” He looked over his shoulder in time to see a wolf run out on the road. “Please, go.”

The woman saw it too and got the car rolling. Acier blew out a breath as the image of the wolf got smaller and smaller in the rear window. He was sure it could’ve chased after the car, but it would look suspicious.

“How far to the city?” He hoped it wouldn’t take more than a few minutes because while wolves couldn’t run after cars without drawing attention, they sure could slip into their human skin and follow them by car.

“Five, maybe six minutes.”

He nodded. “Hurry.”

Hopefully, it was short enough for the wolves not to catch up with them.