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Tarnished

By:Becca Jameson

Chapter One


“Have fun. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” Mackenzie Rogers snorted in her sister’s direction and took another bite of her Lucky Charms. No matter how old she got, she’d never be too old for the perfect bite of marshmallows and cereal.

“You’re kidding, right?” Kathleen stopped midstride between the fridge and the table. “You aren’t really going to skip the gathering, are you? Mom and Dad will have a fit.”

“They can fly a kite for all I care. That stupid bi-annual event makes me want to vomit. No way in hell am I going to participate in such a farce again this year.” Mackenzie took another bite, crunching into the cereal and spooning up a balanced combo for her next bite.

Kath took a seat next to Kenzie and grabbed for the red box of sugary goodness. “Hey, you ate almost all of this.”

Kenzie smiled through a mouthful. “Uh-huh.” She swallowed. “And it’s the last box too.”

“Who peed in your cereal this morning?” Kath scowled.

“Nobody. I’m perfectly happy. I have a nice human boyfriend, a college degree, a job, and plenty of friends. I’m about as fantastic as a person can get.” She smiled at her sister. “I sure don’t need to attend some match festival to find some barbaric mate. Been there. Done that. Have the mental scars to prove it.”

Kathleen narrowed her gaze at Kenzie. “I don’t know what happened to you two years ago, but that was last time. How do you know this gathering will be the same? You were only twenty-one last festival. Now, you’re more … mature … sometimes.” Kath ducked when Kenzie swung at her sister’s head, managing to swat her on the top.

“And now I’m wiser. Older. Less stupid. And in no need of a matchmaking service. Boyfriend, remember? Human boyfriend. Sexy, human boyfriend who has a job and likes me for who I am.” Kath had no idea that Kenzie’s mental scars went way deeper than just the last gathering. The events of two years ago paled in comparison to what happened four years ago. Mackenzie kept those details to herself, buried deep inside.

“Really? And who does he think you are exactly? Have you told him about your tendency to shift into a wolf now and then and run free in the forest?” Kath grinned big.

Of course Kenzie hadn’t told him anything of the sort. And she never intended to. “What makes you such an expert? How many guys have you dated, smarty pants?” Kenzie knew her sister hadn’t dated a single guy. She was just twenty-one herself.

“That’s why I’m going to the gathering, smartass. Dating humans is a pain in the butt. It can’t go anywhere long term. Sure, you have a degree and a pseudo-job, but your human boyfriend is a farce, and all those friends you claim to have are really his.” Kathleen’s honesty was over-the-top.

“When I need your opinion next time, I’ll ask for it.”

It was tough being a shapeshifter and living among regular humans. Stressful at best. Downright annoying most of the time. Wolves could scent almost anything. Fear. Anxiety. Stress. Arousal… It gave them both an advantage and a disadvantage. It sucked royally when Kenzie was out with friends and realized one of them didn’t like her. That was why wolves tended to mate with their own kind. It was so much easier than dealing with the nuances of the human world.

But Kenzie had no interest in following wolf tradition and allowing some supposed ruling of fate to determine who, where, and when she mated. It sickened her. She was in control of her own destiny. Definitely.

And lately, things were looking up. Darrell adored her. He was the first man she’d ever dated who truly enjoyed her company, didn’t pressure her to have sex, and smelled fantastically of … well, Darrell. Nothing was going to ruin the human high she was enjoying.

“Have you told Mom and Dad this decision yet?” Kath tipped her bowl and drank the rest of the sugary milk.

“Nope.” She was putting it off.

“We’re leaving in about an hour, ya know. For the opening day.”

“Yep. And like I said, have fun.” Kenzie scooted her chair back, letting it scrape against the floor with an annoying screech that always pissed her sister off.

“Mackenzie Renae, how many times have I asked you not to do that? It scratches the wood floor and…” Kenzie’s mother, Carina, paused midsentence. “Why aren’t you dressed?”

Kathleen chuckled. “’Cause she isn’t going with us.” She ran from the room. The bitch.

Their youngest sister, nineteen-year-old Cassidy, came in on her mother’s heels. “What’s going on? Why is Kath running?”