Alpha's Possession by Jessica Hall

Chapter 13

Now that Tal puts it like that and directs me closer to his perspective, I have to admit that he has a point. A good one, at that. Vampires are far more dangerous than werewolves. While wolf shifters are angry and capable of ripping anyone to shreds, which is scary, vampires are unpredictable- no one knows how, what, or when they would lose control, so the aspect of surprise makes them worse than shifters.

“Now, hurry, unless you want your bosses to see those marks on your neck and start asking questions,” Tal mutters and offers me his wrist again.

I sigh and give in. Tal is right. The last thing I need is for my bosses to think I’m a feeder on top of everything else they already hate me for. It’s bad enough they already think so little of me. There’s no need to add extra fuel to the flame of their disgust. I don’t want them to think they hired someone who’s an addicted feeder. I’m not one and won’t let them belittle me like that.

“I already called a cab for you so you can get home. And don’t worry, the cost is covered already,” Tal speaks as his eyes inspect my neck, probably to ensure it has healed completely. Once he’s content enough, Tal nods, turns on his heel, and walks away.

I wait for another minute before heading downstairs to the staff area and quickly changing my clothes. Tapping the pockets, 1 check if the money is there and rush outside to meet the cab.

The cab driver is an older, pleasant gentleman who looks like someone who has experienced some hardships in life, so I don’t feel ashamed of my situation when I ask him to take me to a seedy motel near where I work.

I can’t go to a nice motel or hotel, not only because I can’t afford one, but mainly because I can’t hand them an ID since I don’t have one. Okay, maybe I do, but that’s not even a real one- it’s just a shitty ID of my sisters that I paid the firm I used to work for to dodge up for me.

They added a dodgy last name, too, which is as much of a blessing as it is a curse.

fascinating how many jobs one can find that don’t require the bosses to actually know who you are, simply because they don’t

I truly believe it has to be a cover for something more sinister they do behind the scenes. I don’t want to know what it is because I didn’t want to be a part of their shady business or find myself caught up in it. Though with the amount of foot traffic that went through the place, I knew something

I’m just relieved that they let me work there with no previous experience and any proper, legal proof of

to check my ID properly or run a background check on me. If she had done that, she would have noticed that the social

laminated piece of paper. It’s my only ID, yet it’s

Martha knew it was a fake. She just didn’t seem to care about it either or knew I was no danger to her. Most of them really don’t care about such things, but from what I gathered from Leila, she didn’t care about who I was or where I came from. She’s more interested in the fact that I

get rid of thought before I start another round of vicious overthinking and walk into the shady motel. The place stinks. No, it reeks

girl behind the counter who wore heavy eye makeup, and her foundation was far too light for her skin tone. She watches me as she checks every bill holding it up to the light, inspecting it as if she thought it was counterfeit, and then tosses a key attached to

with suspicion as the bubble she blows pops, and I try to understand which number is written on the

on the

not the case. It’s the shitty, faded handwritten number that

unnecessary confrontations, I press my lips in a thin line and nod swiftly and

doesn’t want; I walk

a bed I get here; I also have enough money to buy

to find the right door to the room I was renting for the next