Hungry Like a Wolf (Claws Clause 1)

The Para who notarized their bonding license was a Dayborn vampire. Dayborns were a subset of the Vampire Nation; considered the “good” vampires because they didn’t need blood like their Nightwalker counterparts, Dayborns were more like Ants than other Paras. They had a few strengths—like most Paras, they could tell when someone was lying, even though they couldn’t lie themselves—with their most noted being an ability to walk in the sun. They had milder temperaments than the vicious Nightwalkers, mercenary witches, and growly shifters. They were also unusually efficient.

After a couple of quick questions, an analysis of their blood—another trick that only a Dayborn could do—to prove that the mate bond was there, and a couple of signatures, Maddox had their bonding license tucked in the same manila envelope that held the marriage certificate.

A copy of the bonding license was also uploaded to the Web. The Web, with its uppercase ‘w’, was an online database that served Paras only. It was the same database that the Ants at the D.P.R. used to check on a paranormal’s status. From the moment the Dayborn affirmed that it went through, Evangeline’s file had been updated to say Evangeline Wolfe, shifter’s mate.

He couldn’t wait to rub it in Wright’s face.

Maddox tucked the manila envelope under his arm as he led Evangeline out of the Dayborn’s office, bringing her back out into the busy Bumptown streets. The office was along Sunset Boulevard, the vampire part of the settlement, about a fifteen minute’s walk back to Colt’s place, on the edge of the Zoo.

It was beautiful out. He had his mate’s hand in his, the proof of their bonding clasped under his arm, and the summer sun was shining. Evangeline was chatting happily about all of the sights she saw; the Bumptown was clearly something she hadn’t recovered her memories on and she marveled over how distinct each neighborhood was.

Maddox was just telling her about Cemetery Row—where Dodge spent his time when he wasn’t with Colt—when his mate stopped dead in her tracks. At first, he thought she was staring at a bear shifter out for a roam in her fur. But then he noticed the patch of smoke about fifteen feet in the distance. Long and narrow, it was about the size of a full-length mirror, without any color to it at all.

He sniffed. It didn’t smell like fire—it didn’t smell like anything—so he couldn’t understand what the smoke was about. That’s when Evangeline shuddered, taking her hand from his as she covered her mouth with her fingers.

“Oh, no,” whispered Evangeline. “Not now… not again.”

She was staring at the smoke. Again, she said. What did his mate know that he didn’t?

“Angie? What’s going on?”

“It’s her. She’s followed me here.”

The hair on the back of his neck stood straight up at her pronouncement. Evangeline’s voice was flat, the sort of emotionless tone she had when she didn’t know who he was or what he was capable of.

His stomach clenched. The smoke was billowing toward them, but there was nothing to distinguish it from any other patch of dense fog. It had no scent—

Wait.

It had no scent.

Like Evangeline had no scent when she wore that stupid fucking perfume Wright gave her.

Magic. He reached out, grabbing her elbow. “Come on, we have to go.”

She didn’t react. It was like she hadn’t heard him. She continued to stare at the patch of smoke, growing thicker as they watched. Shadows moved in the colorless smoke. Was that a hand? A torso? Legs?

Was there someone in there?

He hesitated too long. Before he knew it, the smoke rushed toward him, wrapping him up in its tendrils. It did something to his wolf, turning it borderline feral. He lashed out, forcing his beast back, maintaining his shape only because he knew, if he let his wolf out, Evangeline would be caught in the crossfires. With the smoke muffling all of his senses, his wolf might attack its mate first, not realizing she wasn’t a threat until it was too late.

He couldn’t keep his claws back. Letting go of Evangeline’s elbow a split second before they would’ve sliced her to ribbons, Maddox howled, then shoved at his wolf. It was wild, snarling, and spitting, its hackles raised.

And that’s when he heard Evangeline scream.

Her scream was high-pitched. Terrified. Pure fear in a single sound. It had the power to make Maddox’s focus turn deadly. Whatever this smoke was, it was no match for an enraged alpha wolf.

“Angie!”

His nose was bombarded with an array of overwhelming scents. The smoke might have blinded him, but his sense of smell had always been exceptionally keen. Warm vanilla to his right—Evangeline. Baby powder nearly dampened his senses, it was so strong. That was the magic.

There.

A hint of spice, coated in frost. Only one person in the world had a scent that reminded him of cold heat.

“Priscilla!”

A laugh filled the smoke, echoing around him. His body tensed, his muscles locked as he swiveled to and fro, searching for the witch.