Vindictive Violet: Bounty Hunter

I hummed along with the laptop as I continued to stir the brownie mix in my mom’s old aluminum bowl. I had my music player on shuffle and the constant change of genre in the tunes had me filled with a sense of spontaneity and self-pride. At the moment, I was bobbing my head to The Fratellis’ “Chelsea Dagger.” The boys were out for the night, save for Anthony sleeping in the basement, leaving me home with the quiet expanse of our three-story rented Victorian house nestled in the nicer part of Old Louisville.
         “She said my boy, ‘It’s Dagger,’…,” I chorused, tapping the wooden mixing spoon on the side of the bowl before turning to check the oven’s temperature. I licked my cherry chapstick lips, my fingers playing with my blonde bangs that fell to obscure my vision. I hadn’t baked in a long while; I hadn’t touched anything other than utensils, plates, and coffee mugs when it came to food for a solid month. Usually Liam did the cooking. David did the yard work in the summer. James took care of all the billing and money issues. I did the laundry. And Anthony… Anthony did all the complaining and bitching for all of us.
         Sounds funny doesn’t it? A girl living with four guys?
         To put it simply, there are boundaries. We all are part of an elite group of agents for the FBSA. That’s the shortened version of the mouthful Federal Bureau of Supernaturalist Affairs. Told you it was a mouthful. Since we are the five who grew up in the area and are stationed here year-round, the Bureau decided Louisville, KY and its surrounding areas would be our territory to keep eyes on. Supernaturalists have a tendency to run wild. Vampires stalking humans; werewolves running street gangs; witches running little black market charm and herb shops. There are many species of Supernaturalists in our territory; and it’s our job to keep tallies on those who cause trouble. Living together just makes security for our personal safety much easier.
         As I said before there are boundaries between the boys and I, and between each of us individually. I’m allowed the masters’ bedroom so I can have my own bathroom on the second floor. Liam sleeps across the hall from me. David and James sleep on the third floor in the two bedrooms with James’ sanctuary—the library—between them. Anthony preferred the basement and very rarely appears during the daylight hours unless out on an errand. The boys never bothered me when my door was closed; just as I never disturb any of them when they have theirs closed tight. When it comes to chores, grocery lists, and especially medical experience, we usually split it up. Working with unruly Supernaturalists usually ends with an injury or two, so all of us have some skill when it comes to MacGyver medicine.
         I scooped the brownie mix into the pan evenly with the mixing spoon. I shoved the container and its chocolaty contents into the oven then kicked the door shut with the toe of my Ugg bootie. I leaned back against the counter, licking the spoon, pleased with the rich taste.
         But rules and boundaries are made to be broken, and can be done so easily. Too easily for my personal taste. I kept to myself just as they did and I never allowed any feelings for them except for the feeling of Pack.
         Oh yeah… I forgot to mention. The five of us? Werewolves. The Bureau didn’t bother to diversify our unit, hoping the Were blood in us would unite us as a pack that would function as the city’s guardians. They weren’t entirely stupid to throw a female into the mix; because a pack of all male Weres would have turned on itself too easily. Male Weres, like their four-legged brothers, have a distinct need for hierarchy, mates, and order. The good side is I’m the water to cool their testosterone fires; the bad side is when they don’t keep themselves in check, I become a trophy for competition. Hence my need to satisfy all equally; and the only way to do that is deny them all equally. A Wolf pledges herself to one mate and only that mate. The only time that eternal mate is replaced is before the she-wolf has found him and finds temporary mates during the full moon. It’s a lust in the blood that runs as hot as the thirst for blood runs in a vampire.
         I sucked on the end of the spoon, staring at the calendar across the room from me. The full moon was in exactly a week. The boys would start flinching soon with extra hormones. I wasn’t looking forward to it. Because even though I hated how they became dominatrix idiots, I couldn’t deny the feeling of freedom and need for fur and skin I would have. The need to side with one of them and be his for the few nights of the full moon would be driving me crazy. I had been in this house with them for over a year and had survived so far…
           I turned to begin cleaning things up before any of the boys came home. Anthony was asleep downstairs; but Liam, David, and James were out and about doing God knows what. I pulled from the brownie mix’s box the sticky note that claimed it as “Violet’s Only,” and crumpled it. I learned fast once I moved in that even though Weres are territorial, they won’t hesitate to eat your food if you don’t claim it first.
         The song died away and switched to an old, familiar Train song, “Drops of Jupiter”. I sighed with contentment. I used to sing this song all the time. I hummed along, eyes closed. I didn’t want to think about a briefing for next week’s assignment. I didn’t want to think about the paperwork I still had piled up from my last endeavor for the bureau. I wasn’t looking forward to another pile to add to the one stacked beside my desk. Unlike the boys, who were used for blunt force, I was used for my ability to become both invisible in a crowd to sniff out some supernatural punk, but also my talent for luring those trouble-makers out into a trap. Usually, I worked with David and Liam. James took care of issuing the orders to us and keeping us in contact with the bureau’s headquarters. Anthony usually specialized in back up positions. Liam and I took point on pretty much everything. And, even though I had talent for brute force as well—let’s face it, being a werewolf has its perks for brute force—I was almost always the bait on the hook. In other words, I was the “hook”-er in most missions to bring out the big bad wolves or vamps who dared to mess with the law. How fun for me, right?
         I licked the last of the chocolate off the spoon and tossed it into the sink. It landed with a supple, clattering crash. Sighing, still relaxed, I began to move my hips with the beat as I wiped a damp towel over the counter.
         A soft closing of the door around the corner caught my ears, perking my senses. My immediate intake of air brought in the warm, comforting smell of Liam. He was no doubt the Alpha; I was never able to deny him that. We all identified Liam as our fearless leader who was not to be questioned. I kept cleaning, my back to the door.
         Large, warm hands touched my shoulders, skimming down my biceps to my forearms, holding them still.
         “Let Anthony clean… He never does shit around here,” the deep, rich voice breathed into my ear. Shit, I’m in trouble. I couldn’t help but tremble ever so slightly, eyes closing, chin turning to press my cheek against the lips that tickled my ear with their breath.
         “Hello to you, too,” I managed, keeping my voice as strong as possible to keep it from falling into a low, husky tone to match his. Oh god, I was in big trouble. It wasn’t even the full moon and here I was: leaning my butt back into the cradle of his hips, spine pressed to his firm stomach. My shoulders eased from their tensed position as if melted like butter.
         “You up for a sleepover tonight?”
         Oh god, how wonderful that phrase rang in my ears, making my knees want to knock and my body to fall to the floor in a puddle of warm liquid. Like I said, melted butter. I bit down on my lip hard, making myself concentrate and stop thinking with my hormones but with my actual brain. I knew there was one in there beneath my blonde hair somewhere… “Probably not a good idea. Everyone’s home tonight. David’s cooking, remember?” I reminded, still unable to turn around and face him. His torso pressed against my back was too nice of a feeling.
         “Let’s skip it. Come on, we’ll go out… Say we’re learning up on targets for next week. We haven’t gone on a run in two weeks. You have to let the wolf out sometime, sweetheart. She can’t stay locked away under that smooth skin of yours forever,” Liam prodded, his whiskery chin brushing the back of my neck while his nose pushed my ponytail aside so he could nip my earlobe.
         “Anthony’s still here,” I whispered, feeling my cheeks warming and my skin beginning to crawl. “He’s going to hear us.”
         “Fuck Tony.”
         “Liam!”
         “Sorry, doll, but I’m tired of hiding this with our little charade of pretending like we don’t give a damn about the other.”
         I turned around to face him, pressing myself against the counter to stare at him. I was on dangerous ground. No, more than dangerous ground. I was on perilous, treacherous, ‘you-will-die-if-you-cross-the-line’ ground. “Liam, no. The Pack—”
         “Will what? Fall apart? Not gonna happen. They don’t question my authority or yours. It’s obvious you’re the equivalent of my mate, Violet. You’re the Beta, doll, if not Alpha Female. And if we don’t tell them, we need to tell the bureau. You know they won’t separate us if we’re potentials… It’s too dangerous to separate us.”
         Potentials. That word sounded like bittersweet poison in my ears. And I knew exactly what he meant. Potential mates. Potential life partners. But it was too risky. The pack was too new; and this close to the full moon only meant trouble. One of them may deny that I was devoting myself to Liam temporarily and would cause a fight. One of them, whether they wanted to or not, would be driven by hormones to fight back over the only female in the pack to claim as theirs.
         I shook my head, given the fact I couldn’t find words to say no or yes to him in response. I kept up this gesture, eyes clenched closed to keep from showing any other emotion that may sway him to which conclusion my brain had come to. I stilled and cracked an eye open. He was gone…
         Liam had a tendency of doing this to me. I don’t know how he always managed it; but when he wanted, he could slip away right from under my nose without thinking twice. And he was the only one who could do it. I could usually pick up where he was immediately after. I always knew where he was, what he was doing, even if he wasn’t in the same building. It was a sense; a sense to know where and when my Alpha was, in which to serve if needed.
         And right now he was headed up the steps and into his room. I could hear the door close, even though he made sure to make it as quiet as possible. I snarled at myself and turned back to check the brownies.
         This whole dangerous affair of mine had started about three months ago. And it had been purely by accident. It had been a risky night when we were set off to fetch a crook by the name of Travis Madden. He was a werewolf who’d gone rogue on the hierchy of the bureau. (Yes, there are higher up Alphas other than Liam.) The idiot, unlike most Weres, had the ingenious idea to rob a blood bank for some vamp, hoping to get a stake—no pun intended—on the industry when the vamp hit it big. When Liam and I went after him, Madden pulled a gun and took a good hunk out of Liam’s shoulder and my thigh. All I wanted to know at the time was who hell pulls a gun when you don’t need to… We’re freaking werewolves! We don’t need guns in a fight. That’s just plain cowardice. Use your damn claws and teeth like the rest of us, asshole.
         The night ended with Liam sewing up my thigh while I sat propped against the bathtub in my undies and me holding an ice pack to his bruising shoulder blade, which led to low voices, which led to attraction, which led to intimacy, which led to…
                You get my point.
                I didn’t regret it. There was something that night that completely clicked between us. And from that point on, I hadn’t wanted another when it came time for the moon to rise fully. Though when he decided to start this labeling us as “potentials” scared the fur right off my skin. Rilo Kiley’s “Portions for Foxes” had begun to play.
              “Oh, ha-ha,” I snapped at my computer and the irony of the song choice.
              “…And the talking leads to touching. And the touching leads to sex. And then there is no mystery left. And it’s bad news…” Jenny Lewis sang, making me cringe, knowing Liam could easily hear the lyrics. I had a mind to toss my laptop to the floor, and let it shatter. It would make me feel better for probably a few moments until I would realize that I was totally fucked that my Mac was on the floor in pieces and I would have no money for another one. Instead, I calmly walked over and clicked the ‘next’ button.
              I was rewarded with “Foreplay,” from Boston.
              “Oh, you’re real funny,” I muttered, considering again the whole smashing scenario again and came to the same aggravating conclusion. I not-so-nicely tapped the ‘next’ button again.
              My computer treated me again to “Sex on Fire” by Kings of Leon.
              “Really!” I exclaimed, just turning the music off altogether. Obviously the Mac was having fun poking at me with its choice of shuffle music…
              “What the fuck is your deal?” Tony’s sleepy voice grumbled as he stumbled into the kitchen. I glanced at him once, taking in his disheveled appearance. I rolled my eyes, hiding my smirk as I bent to check the brownies.
         “Nothing. I just need new music, in a serious way.”