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“I feel like there’s a punch line there somewhere,” Francis says with a laugh. The Alpha doesn’t respond.
“I was taken over three hundred years ago and turned into a vampire against my will. Ever since I escaped, my maker has tracked me relentlessly,” I answer.
Conner sits back in his chair. “Please don’t take thisthe wrong way, but what does that have to do with me or my pack?”
“Because he will come looking for me. He will not stop until he finds me, and when he does, he will wreak havoc on Charleston.”
The Alpha stares at me, without answering. “This seems like a situation that could be handled by other vampires. Why involve lycan?” Micah asks.
“Because I don’t have anyone else,” I answer truthfully. “I was held against my will for over a hundred years. I was abused and tortured in every way possible. I’ve been on the run from him for over two hundred years, and I don’t want to live that life any longer.”
“What are you asking from us?” Connor asks.
“Manpower,” Luna answers. “There are four of us. I don’t know how large your pack is, but from your size and power, I imagine there are plenty who would be willing to help.”
“My pack is large, but there are not many who will be willing to help a vampire. I can’t force them to come to her aid, simply because she doesn’t know anyone else.”
I close my eyes, willing tears not to fall. “I understand.” I stand from the chair.
“No, hold up,” Francis says, moving toward the large man. “I’ve lived in this city my entire life. Hell, I was born in the dining room of the same house I live in today.” She pats Thorne on the back. “Imagine my surprise when I discovered that this handsome youngman is not only a vampire, but he’s my grandfather several times removed. The city I grew up in was built on the willingness to help others. You have an opportunity to bring your two groups together. An opportunity to help someone when they truly need it. Vampire or no vampire, she needs your help.” She looks around the room. “Hell, what else do you have to do? Entertain drunk tourists?”
“What’s your name?” Connor asks.
“Francis Hawthorne. This is my great-great-great-grandfather, Captain Hawthorne Rex.”
“I appreciate your words, Ms. Hawthorne, but I cannot risk the lives of innocent lycan for an issue that isn’t our concern.”
“Dammit,” Francis says, moving away from the desk. I follow her to the door when an old black-and-white photograph catches my eye.
“May I?” I ask, pointing at the picture.
“Of course,” Connor answers.
Picking up the photo, I run my fingers over the face of the young woman staring back at me. Her eyes peer into my soul, reminding me of someone I knew long ago. “Who is this woman?”
“My grandmother several generations back. Her husband drew that picture right after they were married.”
“She’s beautiful.” I continue running my hands over the picture. The wind is knocked out of me the moment I realize why she looks familiar. The large eyesand round face are identical to my younger sister Bonnie.
“Elsie? Are you okay?” Thorne moves to my side.
“Was her name Bonnie? Bonnie Abernathy?”
Connor stands, moving closer. “How did you know that?”
Pulling the picture to my chest, I can’t control the tears that flow. “My name is Elsbeth Abernathy. Bonnie is…was my younger sister.”
“Elsbeth?” Connor repeats my name. “You’re Elsbeth Abernathy?”
“Aye,” I whisper. “My sister wasn’t a lycanthrope,” I state the obvious.
“No. My grandfather fell in love with a human. He was the alpha and could love anyone he wanted.”
I wipe a stray tear. “Bonnie married a lycanthrope?”
“She did,” he answers.
“Was she…was she happy?”
