Caridad Pineiro

Undead Uprising Chapter 2 & Sex in the City

4

Bryant Park has been transformed again for the winter! They’ve set up the Citibank Ice Skating Pond over the great lawn. Luckily it’s gotten cold enough to freeze whatever the surface is so people can skate.

They also had something going up yesterday and my sis caught the activity on her way home and sent this picture — snowmaking at Bryant Park so they could film a scene for the upcoming Sex and the City movie. How cool is that?

Well, you all know that I know about sex in New York City! LOL! Whether it’s the vamps or Catalina and her werewolves, New York City is the place to be for these paranormal passions.

Since so many of you liked the urban fantasy work-in-progress, here’s another little snippet of it on this Wicked Wednesday.

Chapter 2

Dressed, and with her mother meekly following behind her, Catalina made the short walk up the stairs to her father’s study. Once at the door, she knocked, but didn’t wait for his assent to enter.

Striding in confidently, she stood before the massive desk where her father sat, shuffling papers and in general, ignoring her. Her mother entered more hesitantly, head bowed. Her Geisha-like steps timid until she stood just behind her, hovering reluctantly.

She waited only a second before she called for her father’s attention. “Papi. You asked that I come.”

Without looking at her, her father continued to peruse the papers before him. “As you can see, I am busy at the moment.”

She gritted her teeth to keep from unleashing her full anger and instead said in soft but commanding tones, “Since you pulled me from rest, I assumed the matter was important. More important than those papers.”

Her father picked his head up slowly, finally gracing her with his attention. He was a devastatingly handsome man, even in his early fifties. His thick, nearly black hair was only just beginning to show signs of a regal silver at his temples. A few strands of silver shot through the full beard he favored.

When his gaze met hers, she was once again struck by the gold-green color of his eyes, so similar to her own. So wolfen. His gaze was almost level with hers, despite the fact that she stood, a testament to his immense size.

“You are insolent,” he said, although his words were followed by a chuckle and a broad grin that displayed just a bit of fang. “Spirit is good, daughter, but at the right time.”

She finally inclined her head in a show of deference, but remained standing in defiance. Again, it just brought a smile to his lips before he could contain it. Immediately after, however, his look turned serious. When he glanced back at her mother, a wealth of sadness spilled across his features. “Marina, you may go.”

Her mother quickly departed, leaving father and daughter alone in an awkward silence before Catalina broke it. “I know why you’ve called for me.”

“Really? Then tell me,” he said and leaned back, elbows braced on the arm of the chair while his hands hung loosely before him. His posture totally relaxed, which surprised her.

“You wish to call for the Gauntlet, only — ”

“You’re in love with the human. Still, we both know the pack will never allow it.” As he said those words, he shot forward in his chair and slammed his hands on the desk with a resounding thud. “He is not one of us, Catalina. I’ve allowed you many indulgences, but not this one.”

Another wolf in the pack might have cowered from the command in his voice or the way he slowly rose to his full height, asserting his dominance. But not Catalina.

She picked up her head and met his gaze, unflinching. “You have no say in this.”

“The pack will not accept a leader — ”

“Who cannot accept the ways of the pack? Becoming their leader is not my choice,” she replied and took another step toward his desk, unafraid of her father as others might be. Even her half-sisters, next-in-line to lead by birthright, would not dare as she dared.

He bowed his head then — that magnificently regal head — and shook it sadly. “No one else is strong enough. Or cunning enough, but — ”

“How can I control the pack when I can’t even control myself?”

She didn’t wait for his answer and strode from his desk to the area in his office she liked to call his trophy wall. In olden days it would have likely been covered with the heads of animals taken during the hunt and enemies defeated in battle. But this was a modern wolf pack. Prosperity measured success and enemies — other than the vampires — were vanquished in different ways.

The wall carefully chronicled her family’s many achievements. Pictures of her grandfather in the early days, standing proudly before the small locksmith’s store he had opened when the family had first arrived from Cuba. Photos of her father now: sitting before the Board of Directors of what had become one of the world’s premier security companies; standing beside one politician or another; on the set of a Hollywood movie that had encountered difficulties from a native population that had turned out to be more vamp than anything else.

While she stood at the display, her father placed himself behind her. The strength of his presence called to her. The smell of the wolf’s blood coursing through his veins, so unlike a mortal’s. She almost jumped when he laid a hand on her shoulder, but his touch was tender, confusing her. He wasn’t one prone to shows of affection, not even in private.

As leader, displaying his emotions created risks for those he cared about. Presented possible cracks in his armor.

“This is your calling, Catalina. You cannot run from it.”

She stared at the pictures again, but they were just flat lifeless scenes, devoid of what she considered the real substance of life. Without facing him, she said, “Tell me, papi. After you turned my mother aside for another, did this wall bring you comfort?”

An angry growl greeted her and he roughly turned her around to face him. His anger was such that he started to morph before her eyes. The pupils of his eyes glowed more brightly with the wolf emerging. His fangs lengthened, sharp and white against the fullness of his lips. Not that he could completely transform. None of them could until the full moon.

“Do not bring that up again.” The rumble of the animal was strong in his throat.

“Why not, papi?” she pressed, uncaring of the hurt she might be causing.

“You know why. After you, your mother was barren.”

“And so you forgot your love for her and chose another to bear you a son? But for nothing. All you got were daughters. Worthless females to — ”

“Silence,” he snarled. The hairs of his beard bristled and his muzzle elongated with his outrage.

“I see I’m not the only one who cannot control myself,” she shot back and walked out of the reach of his grasp. If it came to blows between them, she needed the space to fight.

Her words, however, seemed to drain the energy out of him, for he almost deflated before her eyes. He stood there, large graceful hands hanging downward at his sides impotently. “Your words are as sharp as your sword.”

The longing and defeat in his voice humbled her. Did he, too, wish for things to be different between them? That he could think about her needs first rather than those of the pack, the way a normal father would?

“Papi?” She approached him and laid a hand on his chest in a gesture meant to comfort.

“You are all that we have, even though there are those who doubt you can lead us.” He placed his hand over hers. A father’s hand accepting a daughter’s solace.

“As do you. I’ve seen it in your eyes that you doubt me.”

A heavy sigh, filled with sorrow, came from him. “You wish to be other than what you are. You wish to ignore the rules of the pack. But I cannot allow that. You’ll soon turn twenty-five and we face too many challenges to not have our hierarchy in order.”

“Please do not do this, papi,” she pleaded, but he walked away from her and back to his desk, placing that imposing piece of wood and leather between the two of them as if he needed the distance to maintain his determination.

She walked to the edge of the desk and leaned on it, repeating her plea. “Do not do this. Por favor.”

He surprised her then, moving with a wolf’s speed and certainty for weakness. He whipped out with his hand and caught her injured side. The blow strong enough to weaken her knees and draw an anguished gasp. Now her hold on the desk kept her upright as a sickening wave of pain washed over her, followed by an equally debilitating throb between her legs.

“Did you think I wouldn’t know what happened tonight?” He eased back into his chair and trained his gold-green gaze on her.

She sucked in a few rough breaths before she answered. “A minor injury. The vampire who did it is good and dead. Unlike Hemmerich’s luck tonight.”

“Hemmerich is a fool to go out alone when he is not at his strongest,” her father replied, but worry marred his handsome face.

“He is one of our top wolves. If he were to win the
Gauntlet — ”

“Hemmerich will not win. There are others who want you more than he does,” her father jumped in, his words curt.

Catalina considered her father’s statement carefully and finally sat down before him. “They want me even though I can’t control the wolf? Despite the fact that I yearn for a more human life?”

Her father shrugged carelessly. “You are a desirable woman. And the most alpha of all . . . except for me.”

She would allow her father his prideful comment, although if it came to a fight for control, she suspected she could best him despite his much greater size and strength. She could win because unlike her father, she hadn’t yet lost her heart. Giving up her mother had cost him. She had sensed that he had never been the same after that day. Still, it was dangerous to underestimate anyone. Especially an alpha like Hemmerich.

“He may not want me as much as the others, but he wants to lead the pack. I think he would do anything for that.”

“Like challenge the vampires in his human state?” her father posed, obviously puzzled by that.

She shrugged. “The cycle of the full moon begins tomorrow. He is at his strongest now as a mortal, only . . .” Something was not quite right. The same sensation of wrongness had shadowed her during the fight with the vampire earlier that night.

“The newbie vamp I faced was armed — silver claws that took a bite out of me. They’ve never armed themselves before.” She waited, inviting her father to appraise her comment.

“Nor travelled in pairs. There’s talk amongst the pack that the vampires are organizing into larger groups.” As he spoke, he leaned forward and clasped his hands together on the desk.

He was worried as well as he should be. The vampires had mostly been rogue creatures before, with little binding them together beside their lust for blood. Their groups were generally small in size and the members tended to hunt alone. It was part of the reason why the Villalobos clan had always been so successful in eliminating vamps who chose to hunt humans. If they were uniting into a larger band . . .

“It will make it harder to punish those who kill — ”

“They all kill,” he said, his words harsh. “Don’t ever forget that.”

“Do all wolves kill, papi?” she challenged, since there were others like them that were not quite as noble and pursued humans as either sport or prey.

“Do you so quickly forget our family’s vow? The reason why we are what we are?” His voice rose with every word, until there was that ominous rumble once more that said he barely mastered his animal. Not a common occurrence, but with the full moon almost upon them, sometimes an unwanted bit of the wolf emerged when least expected.

“I have not forgotten, but I cannot blindly follow.” Tired of their discussion, she rose and strode to the door of the room, but with a burst of speed, he met her there and slammed his hand on the thick wood to keep her from leaving.

“You will not disobey me.”

She picked up her chin defiantly and faced him. “I follow my heart, papi. Would you punish me for that?”

“You must never follow, but always lead.” His tone was a little more tender, almost reconciliatory.

She would have none of it. “Then you may be better off choosing one of my half-sisters.”

“Your half-sisters,” he began, but stopped and released a harsh sigh. “They are half of you in every way. Only you can uphold the Villalobos legacy.”

“You mean the Villalobos vengeance, don’t you?” she said, yanked the door open and strode out, but knew she could not forget the events that had forged her destiny.