Free Witch Wolf by Winter Pennington

adjusted the bracelet to fit his wrist, slipping the end of it through the little plastic buckle.
    "How do you know I won't wear it again and try to sneak in?" The tone in his voice made me stop fiddling with my bracelet to look at him. He gave the woman a playful and almost flirtatious look.
    I rolled my eyes and buckled the bracelet.

    "Because you have to go through security first." She pointed out the obvious. If Security recognized a person and suspected they were trying to sneak in, chances were they'd either turn them away or ask to search. Rupert smiled again, but this time, it was a quick and embarrassed spread of lips. Kind of like, "Aw, shucks."
    When he was done pretending to be just an idiot tourist, we headed in the direction of the large double doors at the far end of the lobby.
    A wave of pounding industrial music battered my ears as we hit the ballroom beyond. Energy slammed into me and I stumbled, turning and catching myself against the inside wall.
    Rupert reached out, as if he would try to help steady me. I shook my head.
    "I'm fine."
    "What is it?"
    At the smell of sweat and arousal, the wolf stirred within me, pushing against the surface, stealing the breath from my lungs. I placed my hand flat against the concrete wall, trying to focus on my breathing. I drew in a slow breath. That was another mistake. There were so many smells-too many perfumes mingling with the salty scent of sweat and desire. I exhaled the breath through my mouth, eyelashes fluttering. I closed my eyes and saw the wolf inside my mind. She paced, back and forth, threatening to push against the surface. Her elongated ears swiveled and a growl trickled from her lips, from my human lips.
    My eyes flew open as Rupert took a step back. "Kass?"
    I had to shield. In order to shield, I had to get my breathing under control. I couldn't breathe through my nose, but I could steady my breathing through my mouth. I closed my eyes, breathing in through my mouth, out through my mouth, focusing on visualizing a tall tower that would metaphysically contain the wolf.
    The wolf hit the wall of that tower and I clutched my side, sliding down the wall. I felt her eyes glaring at me. She thought one thing: Food . We were surrounded by so much food.
    Then I felt something, a cooler energy that sent a shiver up and down my spine. Distantly, I heard Rupert talking, but for the life of me I couldn't make out what he was saying. The room reeled as the wolf took what felt like another frustrated yet invisible swipe against the insides of my body.
    Cool fingers touched my cheek, spilling cold energy into my skin. The wolf went still, ears flattening against her skull. I could suddenly smell the scent of cool air, like a cold winter's night when the ground is covered with snow. Gently, the tips of those fingers lifted my face and her silvery eyes met mine.

    She smiled down at me with lips the color of bloody pomegranates. My stomach sank. My heart skipped a beat.
    I knew who she was. I didn't know her, know her, but I'd seen her on the covers of local newspapers.
    Lenorre, one of the countess vampires of Oklahoma, stared down at me with the most glorious and surreal eyes I'd ever seen. Vampires, like werewolves, have their own hierarchy and social structure. As countess, Lenorre was their queen. She was the community's, or clan's, political link and leader. Fortunately, since ye olden times, vampire killings have diminished greatly.
    Murdering your dinner is generally viewed as déclassé, not to mention it's terribly bad for publicity, which most vampires care a lot about. That doesn't mean it doesn't happen. From what I know, the punishment system with vampires generally stays with the vampires, unless something has become such a problem that the government has to step in. In fact, there are even some vampires in our government. Thankfully, most of them aren't Republicans. Over the years, the vampires have managed to charm and seduce the media, granting