Shannon Delany - Bargains and Betrayals: A 13 to Life Novel

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

By now you all should know I pride myself on being thankful to people who have made a difference in my life and my journey as an author.

Thanks goes out to Mindy Klasky (a great author of romances), who sat me down to talk, and later, via e-mail, introduced me to the amazing Richard Curtis of Richard Curtis Associates. Mindy and Richardyou rock!

To Panayiotes Asimakopoulous for doing the Greek translation for me!

To the beta readers who helped Secrets and Shadows become the best book it could be and stuck with me through Bargains and Betrayals : Alyson Beecher and Karl (the husband). You guys know this series from the ground up.

Likewise, Robin Wrightyoure one of the very first people I call when my brains become oatmeal, or Im freaking over drama in the publishing worldwell, the drama I can talk about. You may never know how much that means to me, that youre around, but I hope you have a chance to make those same sorts of crazed calls to me (and soon).

Thanks to Christie Webb, the winner of Karen Aldermans auction, which went to support both The Fisher House and Doctors Without Borders.

To the new betas who helped make Bargains and Betrayals what it is now: author Jordan Deen (another writer of werewolves!), who chatted with me about broken down vehicles, displaced alphas, and life in general, is an absolute sweetheart, and reminds me weekly when its Werewolf Wednesday; Lynsey Newton (the teams witty Brit), who knows my characters very well and helped give me the courage to let what happens happen in this story so very important; Saranna DeWylde (an author of spicy paranormal romance), who was the second Textnovel winner and is a scream; Anthony Mincarelli (the treasured male beta), who chewed through Secrets and Shadows and Bargains and Betrayals as quickly as a college schedule can allow, and fascinates me with the tech stuff hes doing and has gotten quite good at talking me back from the ledge. During the course of much madness, these people have become more than beta readers or fans, theyve become my friends. MINE.

Anthony gets double the thanks because the black and white Augmented Reality marker youll find on the next page (a paw print on a heart), which leads you to online fun well beyond this books paper pages, was his concept, too. Check it out!

And, of course, Im thankful to the amazing team at St. Martins Press. Without these folks, the Rusakovas would be nothing: Michael Homler (an amazing editor who understands I occasionally freak out, and who teases me about stuff I have yet to learn about publishingyes, theres much he can still tease me about), and Eileen Rothschild and Sarit Schneider, who help make sure my books get into your hands. Their efforts mean so much!

And finally Thanks to each of you who have embraced the Rusakovas, the Gillmansens, and all of Junctionyou make their weird world turn!

ALSO BY SHANNON DELANY

13 to Life

Secrets and Shadows

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CHAPTER ONE

TWO DAYS LATER

Alexi

My cigarettes called to me, urging me to step outside, to light one smooth cylinder and suck down the richly tainted air before the autumn wind could tug it away. To breathe deep the poison that calmed me. My hand shook, fingers raking through my hair; overanalyzing our current predicament rattled my nerves.

Max, Pietr, and Cat remarked on my smoking once: how could an oborot be a smoker? How could anyone with a werewolfs nose stand such a stink? I was, briefly, a puzzle to them.

Did I not disappear at all the right times to run beneath a moonlit sky? Did I not learn to pick out subtleties of sound and oddities of scent like the rest of them? Was I not quick on my feet and strong as a beast when I had to be?

Of course I was. I was trained by the best. Our parents built me up to be a perfect frauda fine work of fiction.

On the balls of my feet I descended the stairs as soft-footed as any full-blood Rusakova. At the bottom of the steps I turned, breathing deep. The mix of scent and sound told me Pietr and Cat were cloistered together in the sitting room, deep in discussion.

We lived, as my Russian predecessors would have said, like a cat and a dog suitable in some ways but frequently quarreling and snapping at one another. I, once the domineering alpha, was now the too-human interloper skulking at the fringes of conversation until someone realized a need for my expertise.

Time spent working the black market came in handy, though Id closed those doors as firmly as I could.

I need to get her out, Pietr complained. Stating the obvious was only one of his ample gifts. Still bruised, battered, and with bones reset by Wanda, the very woman wed been going head-to-head with over Mothers imprisonment, Pietr was healing more slowly than ever before. Faster than a simple human might, but at a pace unbearably slow for an oborot one transformed .

We did not discuss the fact he almost died trying to keep his girlfriend free. That was the main rule Pietr, as the current and yet understated alpha of the family, enforced.

Da , Jessie should be out, Cat agreed, and I peered around the door frame to watch a moment, patting my shirt pocket to make the cigarettes cease their insistent call.

Cat leaned over, a slender shadow stretched across the freshly repaired love seats arm. What any of us bled on or tore up or warred acrossas a result of Pietrs or Maxs past reckless actions or our attempts to free MotherPietr made sure was cleaned or repaired. He knew appearances mattered to our sister most.

Cat patted his hand. She is only to stay there what?a month?

Pietr groaned and sat back in the chair, his eyes narrow as he gazed at his twin. Da . A month. More, if she does not behave.

Then let her behave. Do not interfere.

He groaned again.

Think, Pietr. She nudged his knee with her foot and laughed. Think with the more proper part of your anatomy, she teased.

He snorted.

Do not become like Max, salivating over a girl. Though I could not see them, I knew she rolled her eyes dramatically as she waved a hand to dismiss the idea altogether. A month is not so long.

Not to you, he said, cocking his head to examine her heart-shaped face. Not now.

Did she seem different to him since shed taken the cure? Was she somehow less now she had more years to her life span? To me, she was still and always Ekaterina Cat beautiful and troublesome as ever. A danger to young mens hearts and anyone willing to try her cooking. Was there something about her my simple human senses overlooked? Something in her complexion, her carriage, her gait, her scent?

I drew back, slinking around the banister to head to the rear of the Queen Anne house we still called home, and the solitude of the back porch.

Each child in a family had a role to play; the eldest was often the leaderthe alpha. For a while the role was mine. When it was necessary I shouldered the heaviest responsibility, took the greatest risks. I learned the ins and outs of the dark side of commerce. I sold my soul as much as anything on the black market to make ends meet once our parents were gone and our safety was at risk.

Everything I did, I did for them . My brothers. My sister. My family .