Chapter four

Both Eric and the others were dedicated to leaving the crime scene so that it was a heist and not werewolves desperately trying to get their food. Seeing the carnage in the parking lot, they had to take many bodies away due to their poor condition.

He felt bad that he hadn't gotten there sooner. Gideon had warned them two weeks earlier that the werewolves were starving after the Valkyries released them. Apparently, those women resented the werewolves for some reason unknown to them, and were capturing them. They would drop them off near some city in the United States and then wipe their hands clean.

Did these women not realize what they were doing? They were trying to keep their identity from the humans, not sow chaos. Of course, it was no secret that vampires had been at odds with werewolves since the beginning of both creations. The two had always fought for dominance, though Eric had suspected about something else. Meanwhile, the Valkyries were busy getting in the way of both of them. They put more fighting between the two clans, making an alliance impossible. Then there were the berserkers, Viking warriors who hardly ever got into wars except when it was their business. They were immortal and when they fought the bloodiest and cruelest battles were unleashed.

 

Berserkers had a bad habit of never leaving anyone alive. Even Valkyries didn't bother them.

 

Eric surveyed the parking lot where the blonde, blue-gray-eyed girl he had held in his hands earlier stood. She was in shock, he had seen confusion and fear in her eyes. When he wanted to read her mind and erase everything he had seen, he found a wall blocking his way. It had rarely happened to her, and she knew that if she forced her mind to let it in, she would suffer.

 

That's why Gideon had to take care of her. The friend had resisted and even kneed her friend in the crotch. When she started to laugh about hurting him, Kenyan had cornered her against the wall of the parking lot and wiped her memory.

 

As everyone was leaving the parking lot with garbage bags containing the remains of werewolves and humans, Eric took one last look at the blonde, who was sleeping peacefully on the ground with her wounded body partially covered in blood. The other dark-haired girl was far away from her. If they never saw each other again, so much the better. Nothing was to make them remember.

Ethan, a banished werewolf who had been on her side since time immemorial and a native, approached her with a nasty wound from brow to chin. It was clear that one of his own had given him that wound with the claw.

He ran a hand over his face, wiping away the blood. His black hair was cut almost straight, and his dark eyes looked up at him with respect and admiration. Ethan was the man he trusted the most and the only one who knew that berserker blood ran through Eric's veins thanks to his father's heritage. He was never out of control in battle, which meant no one could tell on him.

 

The Council didn't know either and would never find out. It was something Eric would make sure of. Not only would he be expelled from the clan if they ever found out, but perhaps his family name would be forever tarnished. And his sister... He shuddered to imagine what they might do to her.

His mother had been a vampire who had been forced to marry another vampire she didn't love for a marriage of convenience. When her mother, Gwyneth, met her father, Aedan, a berserker chieftain who was going to kidnap her to gain greater dominance over the vampires, he ended up falling in love with her. Neither of the two clans agreed to the union, so they were expelled and had to lead a human life. An embarrassment for both of them.

They ended up dying.

 

It was the curse that had been imposed on them. To live ten years before decaying into ashes. Eric could remember the day they both died: both beautiful, without a wrinkle on the inside, but inside all old and withered. They were gone, leaving him and his sister Naylea alone.

 

When several years had passed, they both introduced themselves as a pair of siblings who had lost their parents in a battle against werewolves. No one recognized them. They swore to be loyal to the clan and defend it, but nothing more. In their blood dominated the vampire over the berserker, or so he believed.

 

"All set," Ethan whispered with a frown.

 

"Ethan, you smell especially bad today," Ben grinned, starting at his pulses. "And that scowl isn't helping."

 

"First, I'm sweating. And second, I'd rather smell bad than give off a feminine rose scent," he said huskily, shooting him a sidelong glance.

 

"I don't smell like roses" Ben's tone became curt.

 

"You smell worse than Eric's sister."

 

Gideon burst out laughing with Kenyan as they exited the parking lot through the back exit. Ben started swearing at them as he threw car parts that were lying on the ground at them. Ethan stood to his left, and it wasn't until Eric nodded to him that he turned away from them. His eyes stared at the blond human. His chest followed a slow movement, his heart was no longer beating as hard and his wounds were not severe enough to die on the spot.

 

He left as he heard the first policeman enter.