Chapter 4

Damien Raeken

   I stepped out of the warehouse, then took a calming breath of cool, damp air. My eyes swept the dark alley again when several errant drops of rain hit my head. "Are you sure this is Roberts warehouse."

   "Yes, Alpha," the figure beside me replied.

   Taking the cigar from my pocket, I lit it at the ends letting it burn before I placed it in between my lips, biting the other end with my teeth. I took a deep swig from it, then blew the smoke out of my mouth. The smoke dispersed itself in seconds as if it was never even there to being with. "Only a thief would have his warehouse located in an alley."

   "What should we do with the goods? She we take them back with us?" The figure suggested.

   "They aren't ours to take back, Carlyle." I took another swig from the cigarette. "Find the owners of these goods and return them."

   "Yes, Alpha." The male referred to as Carlyle, my most trusted aide, agreed.

   Once the cigarette burned out until the end, I threw it down when the little stick fell to the ground. Just then, I was about to head out when my sensitive hearing suddenly became more attuned to the sounds coming from a distance.

   I narrowed my eyes and looked around the alley…but found no one. It sounded like that of a female mundane. I heard the mundane females muffled screams, even the most soundless movements of her struggles. I wanted nothing more to ignore her screams because I did not give a damn about her specie, but when I'd heard her scream again, my wolf had woken at the same time in alert, and bared it's teeth.

   The screams sounded closer this time. My wolf became more restless, which in turn, made me restless. I started walking towards the direction from where the screams where coming from.

   "Alpha, is anything—"

   "Carlyle, I have something to do first. Tell the others to carry on with the task I assigned you, and meet me later." I cut Carlyle off and teleported before he could go on another one of his 'you shouldn't go off alone' diatribes.

   This wasn't a good time to be involved in mundane activities, but since my wolf was restless and trying to take over, that was the situation I found myself in. I eased through the dark alley, my eyes adjusting to the darkness. Straight ahead, a turn led off the short alley. I turned to the left with the screams as a guide, running my fingers along the wall until I found something amiss. I stood still, listening to silence that seemed too thick and heavy to be natural.

   Someone was here.

   "You may as well show yourself," I said, listening to a random heartbeat. "I know you're here."

   Nothing, but I thought I heard a heart skip a beat. Enough to get my heart pounding and andrenaline coursing through me.

   "I said—"

   Someone lunged from the corners, darting out so quickly I barely had time to respond. I dove towards the scurrying figure, bringing the person down to the ground in a hail of fists.

   I grabbed a skinny arm, tried to grab another with a bag, a man's hoarse cries filling my ears.

   "Cool it !" I said as I finally managed to snag the guy's flailing hand. I looked down into a grizzled face and hot black eyes.

   "Let me go, worthless VC!" The guy shouted.

   "You're not in Vietnam, man," I tried to assure him, still holding his arm in a tight grip. "You're in Los Angeles. In an alley."

   I was rewarded with a spit in the face.

   I pushed him away, taking a wipe from my pocket and wiping it clean. I'd experienced worse, heard worse than the stream of curses coming from the man's mouth.

   The man reached for his back pocket and pulled out a small gun, he aimed it at me and I couldn't help but smirk. Humans couldn't handle a threat too well, but thought that they should eliminate a threat when afraid. Nothing tasted good than the fear of a prey.

   "Get out of my way or I shoot!" He bellowed, picking up the bag he'd thrown during the fight.

   "I don't like playing guns, but if you insist I'll play with you." I suggested.

   The man's black eyes blazed to n his gnarled face. He looked…furious. "You're a dead man!"

   He pulled the trigger, and watched with a smirk, as the bullet hit me. But his smirk wiped off, when he'd seen I'd caught it.

   "You..you..why? How? How did you do that?" He cowered in fright, his voice wobbling. "What are you, you freak!"

   "I'm not human."

   The man gaped at me with a horrified expression on his face. His gun fell off his hand seeing the smirk on my face.

   "Fuck!" He tumbled down the floor, quickly trying on getting away. I grabbed his arm again, giving the guy a little shake. Not too hard though. I didn't want to rattle fragile bones—at least not yet. His cries filled the air, echoing through the alley.

   I perceived a scent so familiar. I shook my head and ran the tip of my tongue over the sharp fangs in my upper teeth. It was a habit when I was distressed or unhappy and I further knew that these fangs would really want to sink into something. I could perceive a scent but couldn't see anyone.

   Just then, a woman appeared beside us, breathing heavily and trying to catch her breath.

  

    "Hey, why did you take my bag?" She asked.

    How could she ask such a dumb question. "He stole your bag, can't you see that?"

   She turned to me with a frown on her pouty lips. Hair cropped short and plastered her head, a gown that looked like those of nuns. A face that was so familiar my breath caught.

   Elaine.

   It had been over years since I'd last seen her, but her image had been carved into my memories so deep that it seemed like yesterday.

   "What? Oh, no, my name's not Elaine, it's Lydia. Lydia Martinez." She seemed lost.

   I swallowed hard around the dry lump in my throat. Was fate playing a cruel game on me. They took her away—only to bring back her look alike.

   Shaking off the unpleasant memories, I turned my attention back to the man. "Stealing from weak little girls."

  "Here… I don't need her bag anymore. Just let me go, please." The man cried out.

   I ignored his comment, grabbing him by the throat, then slamming him against the wall by the side. "Well if you really want to steal? I can help you. I'll give you guns and you can go Rob a bank."

   "What sort of advice are you giving to him?" She asked, still with a frown. "We should try to save his soul and not ruin him more. We can't advice him to continue stealing."

   Her boldness and open expression unnerved me. I wasn't used to people being so open towards me. "Darling, some souls just aren't meant to be saved."

   She dropped her gaze, looking appalled, her cheeks blazing. "I know, but everyone deserves a second chance…they deserve the benefit of doubt."

   Swallowing a surge of irritation at her perception about life, I forced myself to remember that she wasn't the enemy—but I just couldn't control myself. I needed to change that perception of hers, as soon as possible.

   I let go of the man in seconds, and grabbed hers instead in a very slight grip.

   "Second chance? Benefit of the doubt!" I growled in her face. Her hands flew to my hand holding her neck and tried to remove it, but that only seemed to anger me more. I tightened my hand, causing her legs to leave the ground. "Not everyone was given a second chance…as you put it. So why should I give this to him?"

   She struggled against my tight grip on her. "She was not guilty, she was innocent. But no one…no one gave her a second chance." 

   I narrowed my eyes maliciously and smirked, my grip tightening even more around her neck. She grabbed my hand and helplessly tried to get away—but my grip was very firm.

   She stared pleadingly, silently begging me to spare her life…

   I suddenly felt uncomfortable—as though I'm strangling myself. I frowned when I felt short of breath. My hand left her neck and instead flew to mine, while trying to catch my breath.

   My frown deepened when I felt myself breath again. I glared at her. Who is she? How could I feel her pain, how is that even possible? Is she—

   I stopped my thoughts when I noticed the very familiar scent was actually coming from her. I watched her closely, then took her hand—I perceived her scent. Her scent was like that of a potential mate.

   "Who are you?"

   "I'm Lydia Martinez." Her voice came out squeaky.

   I leaned closer, and took another whiff of her scent, then pushed her away from myself and got up as if she'd just burned me. "This must be a joke."

   

   She stared at me with her brows furrowed.

   "A very funny one at that." I got up pacing in front of her, still deep in thoughts. "What are pack do you belong to?"

   Her brows furrowed even more and her eyes blinked repeatedly. "Pack?  As far as I know only wolves go in packs and I don't look like one."

   I frowned at her. "Dimwit!" I growled beneath my breath. 

   I looked up at the sky, then growled loudly with a lot of emotions twisting in my guts—pain, anger, guilt and more pain. "Is this a joke? Are you taunting me? Do you derive some sort of happiness from my pain."

   "Lia! Lydia!!" Someone called out in the night darkness. Just then a petite lady with a rich Chestnut mane and a young man with a dark hair came running towards us.

   "Lydia, why did you run off like that? You got me so worried I had to go get Colin—" Tracy trailed off. Maybe, she seemed to have caught a sniff of the tension in the air.

   Lydia separated herself from the latter and walked closer to me, with her retrieved bag in hand—the thief long gone. "Thank you for helping me, I don't have anything to express my thanks—" she paused and met my gaze. "God bless you…"

   "Don't…I don't need his fucking blessings!" I yelled, refusing to believe it. 

   She flinched back and grabbed hold of the guy, beside the Chestnut haired lady. 

   "I.. I.. Everyone needs God's blessings." She stuttered.

   My hands clenched in a fist, I needed to hit something hard. And fast. "He wouldn't waste his blessings on me, he'd rather curse me!" I growled.

    Pausing, she stopped me with one hand on my arm. "That's not true." 

   

   I couldn't help the pang of longing that hit me with her earnest words. How much I wished that was true. Just then, Carlyle strode in with a frown.

  

   "Leave now, before I change my mind and kill you."

   "But…"

   "Let's go, Lydia." The lady with the Chestnut mane said. She and the guy dragged Lydia's arms and pulled her along.

   I glared maliciously at her as her friends pulled her away. My hands subconsciously moved to my neck.

   "Alpha Damien, who was that? Why do I perceive your scent on her?"

   I ignored his comment as I had also caught my scent on her earlier.

   "Could she be your mate?"

   I threw a very harsh glare at Carlyle. "She's not my mate! My mate died years ago!!" 

   "Yes, Alpha." Carlyle said as he bowed his head.

   I glared at him a few more seconds, then turned away and glared at the direction the trio just went. "I want every detailed Information about her."