Shameful by May Dawson

10

Legacy

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“Hi,”I said cautiously. “We’re actually closed rightnow.”

He took a step back to look at the sign on the door. “It says open til ten. It’s only nine-forty-five.”

Fine. This guy gave me a creepy feeling, but I could kick any human’s ass just fine. He smelled bad, but not vampy. If either of us should be nervous, he was the one who should be scared.

“What can I get for you?” I demanded.

“A vanilla latte, please. The last time I was here was delicious.” He pressed his fingers to his lips in a chef’skiss.

I headed for the espresso machine. He came over to the counter, folded his arms, then leaned on his elbows on the countertop; it made it feel like he was too close as he watchedme.

He seemed a little too comfortable in my home territory. “That’s an interesting name. Legacy.”

“It’s interesting that you remember it from hearing itonce.”

He smiled to himself, like there was a joke that I wasn’t in on. “Well, it is very unusual. How’d your parents pickit?”

My parents had struggled to get pregnant. I was their legacy, long awaited, their chance to raise kids who followed their steps in the pack. My father made no secret of how proud he was that Courage and I were both fierce fighters.

“Guess it sounded catchy,” I said lightly. We don’t owe anyone our own stories.

“Legacy Quinn,” he mused, and my blood ran cold. How’d he know my last name? No one had said my last name, had they? “I guess itdoes.”

I put the top lightly over the cup—let this jerk burn himself, I didn’t care—and set it on the counter between us before backing away. “There yougo.”

“I haven’t paidyet.”

“On the house.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it. I want to give you a tip, anyway.”

“Oh? What’sthat?”

“Marrying Lucas Harley is a mistake.”

“Oh. Really?”

He reached into his interior jacket pocket. Maybe he was just reaching for his wallet. “You see, he owesme—”

But I’d reached my quota for weird. I wasn’t going to make polite small talk until the man made his move to hurtme.

I could feel something bad coming—and I would besomethingbad.

I dove the few steps between us—his eyes widened—and grabbed his drink, then launched it into his face. The hot liquid washed over his face before the Styrofoam hit him, and he let out a screech as he stumbled backward.

I vaulted over the bar and slammed into him feet first, knocking him onto hisass.

The next second I grabbed his collar and dragged him toward the door. Part of me wanted to just run out the door and not look back. I’d promised Linda I’d lock up, and I wasn’t breaking my promise for this creep. I’d eject him from the café, lock the door, and call for help—just in case there was more to him than met theeye.

I dragged him out the front door. He might’ve been too shocked to resist because he barely put up a fight. The second the glass door slammed shut behind me, though, everything changed.

He suddenly burst into motion, trying to scramble away from me. He grabbed my wrist, his nails digging into my skin so hard they drew blood, crunching the small bones together. My bones ground. Pain shot through my arm, radiating into my shoulder.

I slammed my fist across his face, and he buckled. His grip loosened as I punched him again and again, not lettingup.

Now I knew it was him or me. I wasn’t going to let him get away. I was going to make sure he didn’t get up and get another chance to hurtme.

“What about Lucas?” I demanded, slamming my weight down on him. I didn’t trust anything this guy said, but I wanted to know why the hell he was botheringme.

I leveraged my weight, since he was bigger than me, making sure my knees found the pinch points in his shoulders where I could control him and keep him down. His teeth gritted, and he frowned up at me, his dark hair flopping into hisface.

“Lucas took my girl from me,” he said. “And I’m going to take you away fromhim.”

Something chilling settled into my stomach. Had Lucas slept with this guy’s girlfriend? Or done something even darker?

But I growled out, “Women aren’t things.”

I punched him in the face, and his head jerked to one side. Blood spurted from hisnose.

He grinned up at me, his teeth bloodied. “Are you trying to convince me? Or are you trying to convince yourself?”

“Why the hell did you come here?” I demanded, wrapping my hand around his throat.

I glanced up at the quiet street; the streetlamps shone down on me. A car was going past, slowly, and I made eye contact with the driver. Their eyes were wide, and they seemed to be fumbling for something—probably a cell phone. Fuck. The first rule of being allowed out in Crosby—or anywhere else—was don’t draw attention to the pack. But I wasn’t going to let this guygo.

I reached for my cell, my fingers still wrapped around his throat. “Text Lucas,” I said, not daring to take my eyes off this guy. “9-1-1, café.”

“Oh good,” he said, trying to nod; I could feel the attempt at movement under my fingers, but he couldn’t actually pull away. “Get Lucas out here. That’ll clear things rightup.”

“What were you going to do to me?” I growled.

His eyes widened innocently. I didn’t know how he seemed so unaffected, and my fingers tightened in his throat. My wrist still ached where he had grabbed me; I was dripping my own blood steadily onto his shirt. The little red droplets spread when they hit the white fabric.

“Nothing, Legacy Quinn,” he said. “Not a thing.”

Suddenly, his face flashed to one side. His mouth opened, and long, white fangs appeared.

Vampire.

Panic flared in my chest. I dropped to grip him tighter.

He was watching me from the corner of his eye, smiling, just before he turned his head and sank his teeth into my wrist.

I let out a scream, I couldn’t help it, as he tore at my wrist. A chunk of flesh and bone came away in his mouth. My blood splattered over usboth.

He grinned up at me, his mouth bloody, my own skin hanging from his lips. “I just knew you’d be delicious.”

I slammed my elbow down into his face, trying to break his nose. He was impossibly fast though, suddenly rolling away from underneathme.

He was faster than any human.

I was face to face with the shifters’ oldest, most dangerous enemy. They were impossibly fast but I’d been trained in how to go for their weak spots. That was what I would do now. I couldn’t let him go. He was a danger to me, to Lucas, to thepack.

It would be easier for me to fight him as a wolf. But I couldn’t shift. Not here, where someone might see me. Instead, I closed in on him quickly, slamming my good fist into his face. I couldn’t quite raise my other arm, the one with the shattered wrist.

He didn’t hit me back. He was still wearing that demented, bloody grin. He licked his lips and came at me again, his mouth opening, revealing those long, dangerous fangs. I ducked beneath his fangs and slammed into him, knocking him into the long quiet street. He rolled and came up to his knees, shaking his head, trying to get up. I slammed into him feet-first, felt the solid crunch of my kick finding his face. I landed with one foot on cement, one foot on his chest, wobbled, caught myself.

I went to stamp my boot into his face, to end this. He caught my ankle, rolled. I slammed into the cement on my shoulder, and my bad wrist hit too, sending pain arching through my body. The pain was electric. But adrenaline soared through my body, urging me to scramble up again.

He dove for me, his fangs slamming toward my throat. Too late to escape entirely, I slammed my shoulder into his mouth instead. As if I were fighting another wolf, I grabbed his head, yanking him closer, shoving my shoulder so deep into his mouth he would choke on it. His fangs tore through my skin, agony lancing through my body. But his fangs were his greatest weapon, so even as his talons scratched over me, drawing blood, I kept my grip on his head, kept forcing his face into my shoulder.

I slammed my knee into his crotch, over and over, felt him give. Trying to protect himself, he opened up his stomach, and I kept slamming my knee into his guts until he was gasping for breath, trying to escapeme.

He rolled his head to one side, his fangs tearing through my shoulder, but I forced him back. I don’t think so, asshole. You think I’m delicious? Eat the fuckup.

The two of us struggled in our death match. His legs went out from under him, trying to escape me. I let him fall, then followed him down to the cement. His teeth finally tore loose from my shoulder, and I caught a glimpse of red flesh and white bone. Fuck. I was barely feeling it now, the adrenaline so intense, but my body was lagging. I couldn’t control my muscles.

I was killing him, but I was dying myself.

I slammed my fist into his face one more time and his head snapped back. He hit the cement hard, his eyes fluttering closed.

His fangs folded back into his gums the second he passed out. I stood over him, breathing raggedly, blood coating both of us. He just looked human now. I could leave him and no human blundering across his body wouldknow.

The world spun dizzily aroundme.

I had to get somewhere safe to shift.

If I didn’t, Lucas might arrive to find my body in the street, just as bloodied and broken as the vamp’s.