Sam's POV
Pierre, Jacques, Isabeau and Garret are soundly asleep in my apartment. Pierre sleeps in the living room, Garret and Isabeau in a room nearby and Jacques is sleeping on the floor in my room.
Garret is here because he doesn't want to leave Isabeau alone. They are mates, after all. I make sure that he will not do anything inappropriate until Isabeau reach the age of sixteen. Poor Jacques. His younger sister has already found a beloved earlier than him. Jacques does not seem to mind though.
I keep staring at the empty ceiling, thinking that it is my fault that Marcy ran away.
Why did I even take a step back when she tried to comfort me? I scream at myself inwardly.
Her howl is the most painful thing I've ever heard. I can still see the hurt in her grey eyes.
I toss and turn around, unable to fall asleep. Sighing, I silently walk to the kitchen.
"Can't sleep too, eh, sweetheart?" a voice asks, making me jump in surprise.
I whirl around to see Pierre, who is looking horrible. He has heavy bags under his eyes.
"No," I reply, abandoning the idea to go to the kitchen and walk to the living room to join Pierre instead.
I take a seat on the sofa next to him as he stares blankly at the picture of me, papa and Aunt Zoë. Pierre looks so broken.
"My coven will be here by tomorrow," he informs all of a sudden.
"So is my coven." I think of the phone call I made earlier. Antoine was shocked to know that Aunt Zoë is dead and I calmly explain everything to him. Antoine makes a good second-in-command. He'll bring the whole coven before noon tomorrow.
Pierre and I sit in silence for a few minutes until he speaks up, "Zoë used to speak so much about you." I am too stunned to answer so he continues, "She loved you very much, Sam. She speaks highly of you, saying that you'll make a great leader."
He looks at me with teary eyes before he chuckles, wiping away his tears. "I cry a lot today," he comments.
"It's okay to cry, Pierre."
Without answering, Pierre walks to the balcony and shift into a bat. I decide to give him some space.
He did lose his beloved today.
And I lost my sister.
I feel a scream of frustration threatening to come out in my throat. I quickly shift into a bat and fly to the middle of the woods where no one can hear my screams and cries.
When I'm sure I'm far away from civilization, I scream out my frustration.
Why did I push Marcy away?
How can she run away from everyone who cares for her? Her pack mates, our mother, her mate and I will always be there for her! How can she do this?
"Who's there?" someone calls out. I turn around to see someone with a flashlight, shining the light directly into my eyes. I squint to make out the figure.
"Sam?" the person asks in disbelief. "What are you doing out here? Do you know that there are wolves in this area? It's dangerous out here, especially at night!"
My eyes widen when I realize I know this person.
"George? What are you doing here?" I ignore his question, running to him.
"Wait! Don't come closer!" he yells, switching off his flashlight. Even without light, I can see everything. I look at his face, only to see blood and bruises. He has a big black eye and his lips are busted. He's also hunching so he might break a bone or two. I can smell a small amount of alcohol on him.
I grab his flashlight and shine it towards his face, making sure that it doesn't go directly towards his eyes.
"Who did this to you?" I snarl in anger. George is like a brother to me and someone dares to beat him. I'm going to go after this person and make sure whoever it is will regret it.
George looks down at his feet in shame. "It's no big deal," he mumbles.
I grab his chin so his eyes are locked on mine to see the anger in my eyes. "No big deal?! George! These beatings might leave a scar and it is no big deal?!"
He shifts to his other leg, making him wince in the process.
"George, who did this to you?" I ask in a soft voice.
He shakes his head, not wanting to answer.
"Please," I add.
He looks up as he answers, "My dad."
Driven with anger and adrenaline, I turn around and start to follow George's blood scent where I know it will leads to his house.
"That bastard," I snarl. Now I sound like a very pissed off vampire.
"Wait, Sam! You can't just go after him like that! It's suicide!" George cries out, grabbing my hand.
I let out a humorless chuckle. A vampire killed by a drunk human, which would make a great story to tell children.
"Please, Sam. Just let it go," George pleads.
"No," I reply firmly. "He's got hell to pay."
"Sam, please. If you get hurt, who's going to be my best friend?"
I stare at George blankly. He should know that it's not the best time to joke right now. He rubs the back of his neck in nervousness.
"Fine. I'll let it go," I say, watching George sighing in relief. "But you have to come home with me. I don't want you to be living under the same roof with that bastard."
His shoulder slump in defeat. "Alright."
"And you have to tell me everything." When I say that, he looks at me in horror but did not say anything.
I lead him to my apartment as he tells me what happened. It is started a few days ago when his father started gambling, loosing all his money. He starts to turn to alcohol to heal his pain. Since George's brother is away most of the time, Henry does not know anything about this. George's mother has been avoiding her husband so George is left to be a punching bag.
After hearing George's story, it takes a lot not to run to George's house and beat the crap out of this bastard.
I knock on my door, waiting for someone to open the door since I left the apartment keys inside.
"Sam, why didn't you tell me that you were goin-" Jacques cuts himself off when he looks at George.
I hear Jacques let out a low growl, which makes me wonder why.
Things are starting to get awkward as the two of them stare at each other so I introduce them. "Jacques, this is George and George, Jacques."
Jacques nods curtly at George where as George blushes beet red. I've almost forgotten that George is gay.
"I'm going to clean George's wound so excuse us..." I say, dragging a drooling George to the kitchen.
"He is so hot." I hear George mumble to himself, making me roll my eyes. I start to clean his wounds as gently as I can.
If only George knows that I'm a vampire then I can easily heal him. I quickly shut those thoughts away.
It's better for him to not know anything about vampires and werewolves.
