Page 133 of Echoes of the Banshee

I realize that they’re gazing at me with desire and it sends a rush of heat through me, pooling low and traitorous.

“You said zombie,” Zair says hoarsely, “not ruin-my-life zombie.” Somehow, him struggling makes it even worse. Shit, we’re in trouble. We make our way to the pack house, but the air between us feels charged. I can’t help but think: This feels like a date. But it’s not. It can’t be.

Zair asks me a few times if I’m sure about going, and I keep saying I am. He’s a good friend, and I won’t let him down on the one thing he’s asked me to do.

The pack house hums with energy, the low murmur of voices blending with the upbeat rhythm of music. I stand at the edge of the room, taking it all in; the scent of freshly grilled food mingling with the earthy undertones of shifters, the flickering light of string bulbs casting a soft glow across the open space.

There’s laughter in the air. I hover on the sidelines, uncertain of my place in this world. I stand beside them until Benson gets called across the room by a shifter.

“Holy shit, Thea!” Dylan calls out, grinning as he approaches with a woman beside him. “Did you know she was hot?” he asks Zair.

“It has crossed my mind a time or two.” Zair’s voice is low, and there’s something in his eyes: heat, focus, want, that slips past every wall I’ve built. It shouldn’t. Not when I’m still looking for someone else. Not when I swore I wouldn’t forget.

“Shut up, guys,” I tell them, my cheeks dangerously warm. Why does Zair have to look at me like that?

“I’m just glad you finally made it. I was starting to think Zair was never going to drag you to a party.”

I roll my eyes but smile. “I was blackmailed.”

“Good to see you out of your cage,” he winks, then gestures to the woman. “This is Sierra.”

Sierra smiles warmly, her red hair catching the light beneath a delicate gold circlet. She’s dressed as a nymph: flowing green gown, bare feet, golden leaves woven into her hair.

“I’ve heard so much about you from Dylan,” she says.

I raise an eyebrow at him. Dylan, for the record, is in a full banana costume.

“Really?”

He shrugs. “You’re a better wingman than Zair.”

“Well, in that case…” I lean in towards Sierra like we’re sharing a secret. “Have you seen him lick clean a honey jar?”

Sierra bursts out laughing and leads me to a seat. We slip into an easy conversation while Zair and Dylan hover nearby. She tells me her older brother is set to be Dylan’s Beta when he becomes Alpha. News to me. I’m a little terrified that he’ll someday lead a wolf pack. She’s here with her family for the weekend to catch the soccer finals. She’s a bit younger and hasn’t gotten her wolf yet, but I can tell she’s hoping Dylan will be her mate.

I catch a glimpse of Benson across the room. He’s got a girl on his lap, two more leaning in like he’s the most fascinating creature alive. He looks utterly miserable. He makes eye contact and mouths, ‘Help me.’

I send a wave of air and the girl on his lap’s skirt flips up, revealing more skin. She giggles and puts his hand on her leg. He gives me a pointed look that clearly says, ‘That’s not what I meant.’

I’m just about to go and rescue him when a massive wolf shifter forces his way onto the couch beside me. He’s wearing a velvet coat, oversized gold chains, and sunglasses indoors… at night. A ridiculous cane lays across his lap. He rests his hand high on my thigh, possessive.

“I hear you like big guys, Thea. Want to try me on for size?” he growls, clearly expecting me to be impressed. “I’m bigger than any goblin you’ve met.”

I look him up and down slowly, assessing the situation with a coolness that borders on detached. He seems to think I’m impressed, and it only fuels his ego. “Name’s Marco, by the way. You’ll need it when you’re screaming it later.”

I cock an eyebrow, my lips curling into a cold smile. “That is without a doubt the worst pickup line I’ve ever heard. Did those steroids shrink your brains as well as your testicles?”

Sierra’s laughter rings out and a smirk tugs at the corner of my mouth.

“Now listen here, you little bitch.” His claws spring forward and dig painfully into my thigh. The blood wells up and something inside me snaps. The magic swells without warning. Before I can control it, his grip tightens further.

Bang. The room freezes.

The huge shifter’s muscles convulse, his body jerking in an involuntary spasm. His face contorts in confusion and pain as his form ripples and shifts. Fur sprouts, his features elongating into a snarling, fur-covered wolf. A low growl erupts from his chest, a sound of surprise and frustration. He stumbles, blinking furiously and looking utterly ridiculous in the shreds of his pimp costume in the middle of the party.

I look down and see the blood on my thigh. The wolf growls again.

“Well,” I say, voice dripping with venomous sweetness. I tilt my head as if to look under him. “Seems I was right, no balls.” The laughter explodes around the room.