by Ellie J Duck
“Blast it all, Tobias get off her! I need to get her out of here,” Greg’s voice suddenly interrupts the moment and I realize I’ve been staring into Tobias’s eyes, admiring the flecks of color and counting the striations. The low growl of warning that rumbles in Hilton’s chest makes my whole body quiver and I try very hard to keep my breathing even and steady, although having him pressed down on top of me is making me think very dirty thoughts indeed.
I fail spectacularly at keeping my cool when he suddenly lurches upwards, taking me with him since I’m still clinging to him from when he caught me. The gasp leaves my lips before I can stop it and he stares at me with a tiny smirk playing on his stupid, handsome face. His eyes dart past me for a moment and then he frowns deeply.
“Shit, that’s more blood that I thought….” he murmurs, and I look over my shoulder to see the puddle of my blood on the floor where I was just lying.
“Anna, can you walk?” Greg asks me, clearly concerned that I still haven’t let go of Tobias despite the blood literally dripping on the floor from the gashes on my arm. The feel of his hands on my waist make me quiver and I hope to high heaven that he thinks it’s from fear or pain or anything other than lustful delight.
I think maybe I hit my head because I’m currently in the process of bleeding out and in utter agony, and yet all I can think about is how good Hilton smells and how warm and nice his hands feel on my body, even through the clothes.
“I can walk,” I mutter, blinking in annoyance when I realize I’ve been staring at Hilton’s mouth. As reluctant as I am to do so, I release my grip on Tobias and step back, mourning the loss of his hands on me immediately, but focusing instead on the pain in my arm, shoulders and face.
“What happened in here?” Greg asks Hilton when I sway on my feet under the sudden inundation of agony that almost brings me to my knees now that I’m focused on my pain instead of anything else.
“They were training, and she told Tara not to go easy on her so that she’d be able to actually fight one of us off if she’s ever in a real fight with a supernatural and she doesn’t have any weapons. We all thought the human would go down straight away but she surprised everyone, even got a few good shots on Tara. Enough for Tara to lose control. Thought she’d know better than to keep going back for more when Tara’s claws came out, but the crazy bitch tackled Tara and got herself kicked across the room and all ripped up,” Tobias says bluntly and if I wasn’t in so much pain, I’d punch him for insulting me.
“And now you all know why I hired her, even if she is a human,” Greg grunts as I begin to limp across the room toward the door with the hopes of locating a first aid kit before I bleed out.
“Why?” Tobias asks.
“Because you all just got a tiny glimpse of what she’s capable of.”
Chapter Five
“Y
ou healed yet?” Mitch asks several hours later, sticking his big head through my bedroom doorway. I’ve been sent here to recover, somewhat, away from the team since Greg said he didn’t trust them all not to lose it with me so weak and vulnerable from the blood loss.
I must admit, that freaked me out a little, and when he explained that there was a lot more to being a Shifter than just changing shape, I realized that I was in a little deeper than I thought. It seems that rather than simply being able to transform, like I thought, these guys must transform every day, otherwise they start to lose control of the beast within. He told me that when the full moon comes they all lose control for three days and must be locked up in special enclosures on the base where they can’t attack each other or escape and attack anyone else. They also must deal with the animal instinct to rip, tear and kill. He explained this is why it wasn’t a good idea for me to be around them whilst badly wounded, because while they might have enough control currently, it could snap at any time and they could treat me like any predator treats a wounded creature.
He’d looked rather grim when I asked him if they would eat me like an animal would do, and I resolved to work harder to get stronger and keep from getting hurt this badly again.
“Not yet,” I smile at Mitch despite how much it hurts my face, which is twice its normal size and dark purple rather than white.
“You humans sure do take a long time to heal,” he grumbles, strolling into my room and over to the bed, oblivious to the movie I’m streaming on the laptop Greg insisted on getting me. He’s dressed in loose fitting black sweat pants and a tight white t-shirt. His blond hair is still damp, indicating he’s showered recently. His feet are bare, and I notice that even those are the same golden tan as the rest of him I’ve seen.
“Not all of us can sweat out bullets,” I tell him, trying not to move my face too much when I talk. I had to have seventy-nine stitches in my forearm from the slashes Tara put there, and one-hundred-and-forty-three in my back from the dual pair of claw marks now marring both my shoulder blades.
“Being human must suck,” he comments, and I raise my eyebrows at him when he climbs up on the bed beside me, pulling back the covers and sliding himself in next to me where I’m sitting up with my back to the wall. The pain medicine Greg gave me is keeping me from feeling the stitches in my back, so it doesn’t hurt too much sitting this way, though I wish he’d give me more for my face.
“I wouldn’t know anything else,” I shrug, not mentioning the way he slumps down in the bed beside me, sitting close enough that his thigh presses against mine. It doesn’t feel threatening having him here, and he’s not doing anything to make it seem like he’s interested in hitting on me or anything else. I get the feeling it’s an animalistic tendency that has him sitting so close. Just like the team all did last night on the couch.
“Must be weird for you,” he says. “Suddenly immersed in this new reality. I can’t believe you didn’t know, to be honest, given what your Dad is….”
“What do you mean?” I ask, suspecting there’s more to his comment than the fact that Dad’s an assassin on a team like this one.
“I mean, he’s a Bruin. You should’ve been told before now about our world,” Mitch says casually.
“Bruin?” I question, totally confused.
“Yeah, a Bruin… A were-bear, like Brody,” Mitch says, looking at me sideways.
“What?” I ask, incredulously. “My Dad’s human….”
“Oh shit… they didn’t tell you anything, did they?” Mitch asks, suddenly looking guilty.
“I’m guessing not. You’re trying to tell me that my Dad’s a were-bear?” I demand, feeling foggy from the drugs.
“Yeah, that’s how he got into the business in the first place. Rumor has it he was just a human solider, but something happened, and he got bitten. Had to do with your Mom, I think… Thought you’d be healing faster with Shifter genetics running through you…”
“What are you saying?” I ask, totally confused.
“Did you really have to open that can of worms, idiot?” Brody interrupts, and I look over to see him in the doorway, frowning.
“What? I thought she knew!” Mitch exclaims. I stare between them in confusion.
“Knew what?” I ask, my face throbbing and making me want to hit something.
“Your Mom was a Shifter, Anna,” Brody says quietly. “Your Dad was human until shortly before she died, I believe. He wanted to keep you out of the supernatural world, but your genetics make it impossible.”
“What genetics?” I demand.
“You’re not just a human, Anna. Your Mom was a Shifter when she had you, full-blooded too, rather than bitten. Because your Dad was human, you were born human, but you’re a little faster and a little tougher than regular humans because of the genes you got from your Mom,” Brody explains. “When your Dad turned, he joined a unit like this one and he made sure that you’d be able to defend yourself, but he never told you about our world.”
“But… why wouldn’t he… tell me?” I ask, letting the question hang in the air as I stare at Brody in confusion, a strange sense of betr
ayal gnawing its way into my psyche.
He shrugs his shoulders and rubs the back of his neck awkwardly, and though he offers no answer, I have the strangest feeling that he’s holding back on information, obviously not thinking it wise to say anymore when the full story should really come from my Dad.
I look away from him and from Mitch, both watching me carefully as though expecting some emotional outburst. I think back on all the times I’ve spent with Dad and I realize that some of the signs were there. Some of the things I’ve noticed in Brody that have endeared me to the idiot, like the way he swings his arms in surprise, and immediately attacking when he’s startled.
When I don’t say anything else, and simply go back to staring at the movie, Brody copies Mitch, walking across the room and climbing up on my bed. He steps over both of us and climbs under the covers between me and the wall, and I notice vaguely that he’s wearing flannel pyjama pants, brown ones with polar bears on them. The sight makes me giggle just a little bit and both boys look at me oddly. When Brody settles in the bed next to me, he shuffles right up beside me just like Mitch did, so that I’m practically sandwiched between them, though not uncomfortably so.
Neither of them says anything more, and we all sit there in silence watching the re-runs of M.A.S.H. I’m streaming on my new laptop. Brody and Mitch are quiet as we watch the antics of Hawkeye Peirce and Trapper McIntyre, both seemingly content to simply watch with me, neither one making a move or touching me other than sitting so close. It’s clear to me that this is normal for them, sitting close and touching.
“So, is Tara okay?” I ask finally when the episode ends while we wait for the credits to roll so we can watch the next one.
“She’s alright,” Mitch says. “Probably sulking because she hasn’t lost control in a long time and it’s a point of pride for Shifters to be able to keep it together and not be overcome by the animal within.”
“Is she mad at me?” I ask them.
“I doubt it. She’s probably mad at herself for losing it, and for hurting you when you’re a defenseless little human,” Brody says from my other side, leaning into me a little, his body warm against my side.
“Hey! I’m not defenseless!” I grumble. “Just because I can’t sprout claws and fangs whenever I might need them does not make me defenseless.”
“Really? Then how many weapons have you got on you right now?” Mitch asks.
“Four,” I answer.
“Seriously?” he asks, glancing at me, clearly surprised. I get the feeling he wasn’t expecting me to be carrying any.
“Yeah, seriously.”
“Where?” he asks curiously, eyeing me with interest now.
“Why would I tell you that?” I ask him. “If I ever have to fight you off, I don’t want you knowing where I hide all my weapons.”
“Why would you need to fight me off?” He asks, clearly baffled.
“You’re a were-lion and it’s the full moon next week,” I retort.
“Greg told you about the full moon thing, huh?” Brody asks.
I hum affirmatively. “That must suck.”
“It does. When we shift daily we still retain our humanity and can think like humans even though we’re in the body of an animal. Under the full moon we lose the humanity and the beast within takes over. That’s why we’ve got to be locked up. I doubt we’d just attack anyone, but we’re not safe, either. Basically, it’d be about as safe as you stumbling across a regular bear in the woods,” Brody explains. “When I shift voluntarily, I’m still me, only in a bear body. When it’s the full moon, I’m all bear. I think like a bear, look like a bear, and act like a bear. We all have to be kept away from each other, otherwise we’d fight.”
“Sounds cruel... I mean, it would be kind of cool being an animal whenever you want, but losing control would be weird,” I tell them my opinion on the matter.
“You’re entirely too comfortable with all of this for a human who only found out about us yesterday,” Tara’s voice comes from the door and I see her leaning there in a pair of green pyjamas with frogs on them and clutching the biggest bowl of popcorn I’ve ever seen.
“I see no sense in getting hysterical about it,” I answer truthfully. She’s a little banged up from her fight with Brody, which Greg tells me has a more lasting effect than any wound inflicted by human weapons. Brody is clawed up too, I know, though his wounds are hidden beneath his clothes except for a long scabbed over set of claw marks peeking out from under his sleeve.
“Are you ok?” Tara asks me, looking like she wants to come over and sit with all of us but as though she’s hesitant to, in case I’m upset with her.
“I’m good,” I attempt to smile at her, though I expect it looks more like a grimace when it makes my face throb painfully again. “There’s room here somewhere if you want to sit with us. We’re watching M.A.S.H. re-runs.”
She smiles at me happily before bounding across the room and up onto the bed, all without dropping a single popcorn kernel. I can’t help but laugh when she plonks the massive bowl in my hands before she stretches out across our laps like a giant housecat, her ass on Mitch and her cheek on Brody’s thigh.
“Am I too heavy for you?” she asks me since she’s stretched across my lap too, being that I’m in the middle.
“No, but I make no apologies if I wriggle or get salt and possibly whole popcorn kernels in your hair,” I tell her, grinning a little and feeling a strange kind of warmth spread through me at the way the three of them have so easily welcomed me into their midst. The only sore spot of my whole time here has been my arguments with Tobias, and the fact that I’m attracted to the idiot werewolf even though he clearly hates humans and wants nothing to do with me. Why couldn’t I have been attracted to the goofy bear now trying to surreptitiously stuff popcorn into Tara’s ears, or the lion stuffing popcorn into his mouth like we’re going to run out at any second?
At least they both seem to like me enough to seek me out and happily hang out with me.
“Fine, but if I get too heavy, tell me, okay?” she says, and I can tell she’s still worried that I’m upset with her over the fight. I’m not. I mean, I’m bummed that I got so beaten up when I’m not used to it after so long spent associating with humans, but I’m not mad at Tara for losing control or for doing what I said and not going easy on me.
“I will,” I assure her, leaning the less injured side of my face against Brody’s shoulder and snuggling down a little further under the blankets, feeling comfortable and oddly safe in this strange pile of bodies.
Most of the evening is spent that way, Tara returning to the kitchen twice to refill the bowl with more popcorn and getting up to switch the DVD a few times and I must say, it feels nice. It’s nice to have friends and I realize that with this group of assassins and Shifters, I might have my first real chance at friendship. They’re all far less breakable than the other people I’ve known and they’re assassins, too.
“Do you need more pain medicine, Anna?” Greg’s voice asks from the hall outside the room as we all sit watching the opening credits of The Avengers.
“Oh!” He exclaims in surprise when he steps into the doorway and spots all of us snuggled up together on the bed.
“You three!” he admonishes though there is a fond twinkle in his eyes. “You can’t just intrude on Anna like this, climbing into her bed and laying all over her. She needs to get better and having you all crowding her like that can’t be helping.”
“I don’t mind,” I tell him softly. “The puppy pile is kind of nice.”
“Puppy pile?” Mitch asks, looking disgusted by the very idea of being called a puppy when he is the king of the jungle.
“Yeah, the puppy pile. You three are like a litter of newborn puppies, clamoring all over each other and sleeping on each other in one big warm pile,” I tell him, my face still resting against Brody’s shoulder.
“She’s human, remember,” Greg tells the trio. “She’s not used to the amount of physical contact Sh
ifters have. You’re probably freaking her out.”
“Look at him,” Brody chuckles. “Thinking Anna’s too polite to tell us all to shove it if she was uncomfortable.”
We all laugh, and behind Greg I suddenly notice the wolf lurking, watching us all with an odd, unreadable expression on his face.
“Were you serious about more meds, Summers?” I ask Greg, “Because I could go for some; my arm is throbbing.”
“That’s probably because Tara’s using it as a blanket,” he comments drily when he notices the way my arm is draped over Tara’s waist while she lies across me.
“Not really the point, though, is it?” Tara asks, “Just give her more meds!”
“Fine, but you all need to give her some space or she’s liable to get out her gun and shoot everyone if you piss her off,” Greg warns my companions.
“I promise I’d use the non-lethal bullets on you guys,” I tell them, grinning. Greg goes off to get me more medicine and I notice Tobias still lurking in the doorway. He looks kind of like he wants to get in on our puppy pile, but also like he doesn’t want to come into my room or have me tell him to get lost after the fight we had. The other three don’t say anything, though I catch the look Tara and Mitch share when they notice him standing there. He doesn’t say anything, and he begins to look like maybe it’s not even worth the trouble and I decide to put him out of his misery.
I tell myself it’s out of the debt I owe him for catching me and protecting me when Tara tried to pounce on me earlier, but mostly it’s because I really like to look at him and could do so better with him in the room.
“Are you going to keep standing there looking awkward or are you going to get in here?” I ask him, voice soft and neutral as I try to keep any latent hostility out of my tone while also trying to keep from sounding too eager to have him join us.
“I can come in?” he asks, sounding surprised. It kind of bothers me that he felt he had to ask when the other three just waltzed in.