Shifters Hunt: Shifters Hunt Romance Boxset Books 1-4

by Selina Woods

  “You need stitches there,” she said, gesturing weakly toward my left cheekbone. “That one is deep.”

  “Can you do it?” I asked, already knowing the answer.

  She nodded jerkily. “But I don’t want to hurt you.”

  I reached slowly for her hand, making no quick moves that might alarm her. After a flinch, she let me take her fingers, but her eyes refused to meet mine. “Skyler,” I said softly. “It’s all right. I will not harm you, not ever. I like you.”

  “You’re an enforcer,” she answered, her voice very low. “You have to hurt people. You kill people.”

  In that instant, I saw myself as she saw me. A big, hulking male lion with hard green eyes and an even harder angular face, a thick mane of unkempt red-gold hair. Where once I relished my well-earned reputation as a tough-as-nails killer, at the moment, I felt only shame. These days, lions were supposed to be civilized people who only hunted real game and not other shifters or weak humans. Yet I behaved as though I were less than any wild animal who only killed to survive.

  I looked away from her. “I know. I can’t apologize, for there is no redemption for me. All I can say is that I will never harm you or your family.”

  For the first time, Skyler met my gaze fully. “You mean that. Don’t you?”

  “Yeah.” I found a sort of smile for her. “It’s not an excuse, Skyler, but an explanation. I do what I do only because I don’t know any different.”

  Incredibly, her fingers coiled around mine. “I think I know what you mean. Papa once said that the world is so dangerous, one must become more dangerous than the world in order to survive.”

  I chuckled. “I had no idea Jonas was such a philosopher.”

  Blushing crimson, Skyler took her hand from mine. “If you’re sure you want me to sew your wound, I will.”

  “Uh, before you do,” I said, unable to stop wondering if she had the skills, “you do know what you’re doing, right?”

  “A warlock taught me,” she replied simply. “My folks wanted me to learn more skills than just bartending and cooking and put me under the teachings of a warlock healer.”

  She vanished into the bathroom, where I heard her opening cabinets. “What else did the warlock teach you?” I asked.

  “He’s still teaching me,” she replied, her voice echoing, “but outside of wound care, I am learning about illness and the herbs and medicines to counteract them, giving birth, how to ease the dying, infections, the heart and how it works. Things like that.”

  “It sounds like a very comprehensive education.”

  Skyler returned to my side and pulled a chair up beside me. “It is,” she said, upending a bottle near my cut. “This will sting.”

  It didn’t just sting; it burned like hell. My jaw locked and kept the scream inside me, and I knew my body stiffened until I thought it would shatter under the pressure. The hot agony slowly died to a whisper, and I breathed again. “What was that for?” I asked, my voice hoarse.

  “Combat infection.”

  In her element now, confident, Skyler threaded a needle with silk and poured the liquid over both. She then poked the needle through my flesh. After the burning pain of earlier, this was less than nothing, and I endured it with only a few flinches and groans.

  “Keep still,” she warned. “I don’t want to poke your eye.”

  “I’d rather you didn’t, either.”

  Sewing and snipping, tying knots in the silk, Skyler didn’t seem to notice that her face was inches from mine. I enjoyed it a great deal, outside my pain that was, and liked how she squinted her eyes when she concentrated. “You are so beautiful,” I said lightly.

  My comment jolted her off her game, and her focus faltered. Now her fingers trembled slightly as the flesh of her face turned pink, and she licked her lips. “You shouldn’t say things like that.”

  “Why not?’

  “It isn’t true, that’s why.”

  “You don’t think you’re beautiful?”

  “It doesn’t matter what I think. Now you have to hold still.”

  I held still, admiring her porcelain skin, her gorgeous eyes, and the lips I very much wanted to kiss as she resumed her concentration. At last, she tied off a knot, cut the thread, and straightened. “There,” she announced. “You’ll have a scar, but it should heal just fine.”

  She stood up with her needle, silk, and bottle. “Where are you going?” I asked.

  “Fetch you a painkiller that will help you sleep.”

  Alarm crashed through me, and I sat forward. “Wait a minute,” I said, my tone harsher than I wanted. “Something that will put me out?”

  Turning back, Skyler squatted beside my chair, gazing up at me, meeting my eyes. “You want me to trust you,” she said softly. “Then trust me. I can see you’re in great pain, and you will never sleep while you’re hurting. I will never harm you, Ragnor.”

  Shame made me flush and glance aside. “I reckon I’m not any more used to trusting than you are,” I muttered.

  “I know. Trust is never given but earned. You are earning mine; let me earn yours.”

  I gazed into her golden eyes, saw the honest sincerity in them, the beginnings of trust. Slowly nodding, I murmured, “I’ll take your painkiller, and thank you.”

  “You can sleep on the couch there,” she said, rising. “I’ll take the floor.”

  “That ain’t right,” I protested. “I should sleep on the floor.”

  Skyler grinned. “My house, my rules.”

  After leaving me for a few moments, she returned with a bottle, a glass, and a bottle of wine. “This is an opium mixture,” she explained, “used in the ancient past. Much of the medicines before the wars were lost, but some history books remained to explain how to create this and other things to heal.”

  I scented it as she poured a small dash into a glass and added the wine. “That smells, um, nasty.”

  “It is,” she answered. “So drink it down fast.”

  Handing me the glass, Skyler stood over me as I gazed up at her. “You sure you know what you’re doing?”

  “What’s the worst that can happen?”

  “You’ll kill me.”

  “So drink up.”

  I swallowed the horrible concoction, grimacing and cursing, and wiped my mouth on the back of my hand. “Damn, girl, I hope you did kill me. Rather that than drink that shit again.”

  Skyler set a pillow on one end of the couch and beckoned. “You better lie down. That can hit like a ton of bricks falling on you.”

  My knees already wobbling, my head spinning, I stumbled to the couch and fell rather than lay on it. She pulled my boots off my feet and brushed my hair from my eyes as I lay on my back. I saw three of her as she bent toward me, lifting my eyelids, her hand feeling my forehead for fever.

  “Go to sleep,” she whispered.

  Not having much choice, I did just that.

  I woke to bright sunlight streaming in through the windows, my mouth tasting as though someone used it for a toilet, and the pain that racked my body. Groaning, I threw my arm over my eyes to block out the sun, recalling the beating and Skyler’s kindness in treating my wounds. “Obviously, she didn’t kill you,” I muttered.

  Sitting up took a great deal of swearing and willpower but at last, I was upright on the couch, sweat trickling down my face and ribs. Needing to piss, I staggered into the bathroom, passing my reflection in the mirror. After flushing, I washed my hands while gazing at the wreck that had once been my face. My right eye was not just blackened, but also so swollen I barely saw through it. Cuts from Starr’s ring littered my skin, along with the black and blue bruising, and Skyler’s neat handiwork kept one of them closed and on its way to healing.

  Lifting my shirt, I discovered more discolorations on my chest and belly but realized no serious damage had been done. Shifters healed fast, making me suspect I’d be back on the job tomorrow. “Wouldn’t want to piss Kanata off further.”

  Stripping off my shirt, I ran
water from the tap and wet the washcloth. The cool water felt good on my skin as I wiped my face, chest, and belly. Cupping water into my hands, I rinsed the horrid taste from my mouth. Taking a long drink, my instincts informed me I wasn’t alone. Freezing, I braced myself for an attack that never came.

  Turning my head, I saw Skyler standing in the doorway, her huge eyes traveling over my body. Though I never considered myself attractive to the opposite sex, she carried a strange, hungry look in those golden orbs. Upon catching me watching her watch me, she instantly blushed and stared at her feet.

  “Um, I cooked some bacon and eggs if you want it,” she murmured, her hair now hiding her expression.

  I turned toward her fully, observing the rapid glances she shot me while pretending she didn’t. “I am kinda hungry,” I replied, smiling a little. “That’s sweet of you.”

  “Whenever you’re ready.”

  She vanished from the door quicker than an African gazelle, leaving me to wonder what it would take to earn her trust. On a sigh, I finished washing, raked some semblance of order into my hair with my fingers, then put my shirt back on. Leaving the bathroom, I sat on the couch and, wincing at the bending my sore belly muscles didn’t like, put my boots on.

  The odors of frying bacon tantalized my nostrils as I left the back rooms and entered the bar proper. I was the only patron at that hour, and Jonas, busy cleaning the place with a broom and mop, paused long enough to glare at me. Despite the evidence of what had happened the night before, he certainly did not approve of my spending the night alone with Skyler.

  “Nothing happened, Jonas,” I said, sitting gingerly on my usual stool. “Kanata’s lions beat me to a pulp. Skyler helped me out, that’s all.”

  “Your association with her will get her killed,” he snarled. “Do you care about that?”

  I looked down at the polished mahogany bar. “Sure, I do. I don’t want anything to happen to her, or you.”

  “Then stay away from her. Please. You’re an enforcer, Ragnor, the enemy. Or what regular folks think of as the enemy.”

  What could I say to that? He spoke the truth. “Look, I’m sorry. I like her. I’m attracted to her.”

  With a shake of his head, Jonas leaned on his mop handle. “Outside of what you do, you’re a decent enough guy. You treat me and my customers with respect; you don’t cause trouble. If you didn’t do—what you do, I’d be proud to have you see Skyler.”

  I laughed without humor. “And once you’re in with Kanata, you can’t get out.”

  “Right. So you see where I’m going.”

  “Yeah.”

  As though my agreement settled the matter, Jonas returned to his cleaning, ignoring me, and I sat tracing the whorls in the wood with my finger. She all but saved your life last night. You gonna repay that by risking her life? If you had an ounce of honor, you’d stay away from her. I had to. As much as I liked her, was attracted to her, Skyler deserved better than me.

  Getting stiffly off the stool, I walked out of the bar without waiting for the breakfast she cooked for me, knowing it was best if I didn’t even say goodbye. The heat outside was already stifling as I strolled down the sidewalk, other pedestrians catching a glimpse of my face and swiftly ceding the way. My hands jammed into my pockets, I wandered toward the apartment I took for my own.

  Emotionally and physically miserable, I nevertheless still felt the pull to the northeast. Pausing on the sidewalk, forcing others to walk around me like a boulder parting a river, I closed my eyes, facing the direction that strange sensation came from. It had been there for as long as I could remember, a very weird consciousness that forever called to me.

  Most of the time I ignored it, but at times like this, disregarding it wasn’t easy.

  Shoving it away from my head, I wandered on, hunger grinding again at my stomach. Coming across a small café I had eaten at a few times, I went in and sat at a booth where I could watch the traffic outside. Other diners shied away from my battered face as though taking a beating were contagious. The waitress poured me a cup of coffee with a nervous smile and took my order of bacon, eggs, and hash browns.

  Loud voices brought my attention out of my collective misery, forcing me to glance toward the front of the café. I recognized the wolf shifter enforcer, a brute named Maurice, snarling in the café owner’s face. “This ain’t enough, asshole.” Maurice waggled the bills, glaring at the terrified human.

  I knew what would come next, and I sighed.

  “I’m so sorry, but that’s all I have,” the poor man pleaded, sweat trickling down his cheeks. “I have to purchase the food I serve, pay my employees. Business has been terrible.”

  “You know Kanata comes first, nimrod,” Maurice snapped. “Don’t pay your employees.”

  “Then they won’t show up for work, and I’ll be put out of business.”

  Maurice stepped closer to him, his nose within an inch of the owner’s. “Listen up, stupid. You don’t pay your full tax bill, you’ll be dead. Got it? Now give me the rest.”

  The café patrons had gone silent and still, a frozen tableau of different species all afraid to move for fear of Kanata’s wrath in the form of this wolf shifter. All knew that Maurice was well within his rights to kill the man, and no doubt fully expected him to tear out the poor guy’s throat.

  “Leave him alone, Maurice.”

  The wolf snapped his head around toward me. “Hi, Ragnor,” he said, his voice deceptively friendly, his brown eyes flat and hard. “I heard you got your ass kicked. Kanata’s not too happy with you right now.”

  Rising from my booth, I ambled toward him, slightly exaggerating my deadly lion grace, permitting danger to exude from my body language. His eyes widened, and his throat bobbed as he swallowed. The human backed hastily away and took shelter behind the counter as I stopped in front of Maurice.

  “You shouldn’t be so concerned with my troubles, bro,” I replied, my tone lazy. Shifting only my right paw, I stroked my claw down his cheek, seeing him flinch as well as his determination to not back down. “You have plenty of your own.”

  His upper lip curled in derision. “You can’t stop me from collecting taxes for Kanata. You try, and he’ll kill you.”

  “Do you want to bet on that?” I asked, my voice like silk. “Bet your life, maybe?”

  Bigger than he was, I stared down, unblinking, into his defiance, yet observed the nervous tic in his cheek. “Well?”

  I caught his fist he threw toward my face in my hand, then squeezed, putting pressure on his bones, twisting his wrist at the same time. Maurice squawked in pain and tried to yank his hand back. Rather than let him have it, I marched him toward the door. He backpedaled fast, barely keeping his balance as I threw him out of the cafe.

  Falling onto his back on the hot sidewalk, Maurice floundered for a moment, then got to his feet. “You’re dead, asshole,” he snarled, holding his painful wrist. Then he spat.

  I shifted. My huge lion form scattered pedestrians like pigeons, but I ignored them, crouching to leap with my fangs bared. Maurice’s flesh waxed white, and he shifted the instant I jumped for him. His silver-gray wolf skittered out from under me, avoiding my reaching claws by a hairsbreadth. Yelping in panic, he bolted, his tail between his legs as he crossed the street, forcing vehicles to slam on their brakes to avoid hitting him. I chased him only as far as the next curb, then stopped to watch him dash away and vanish down an alley.

  Turning back, I strolled amid the stopped cars and trucks, my tail lashing in my agitation and anger. In front of the café once more, I shifted back into my two-legged self, then went back inside. Ignoring the stares of the customers and staff, I sat back down at my booth and picked up my cup of coffee.

  Gradually, murmurs of conversation returned as things, such as they were, returned to normal. My troubles with Kanata had just tripled, but I could not make myself regret what I had done. Perhaps Skyler and her innocent beauty rubbed off on me, as, for the first time, I realized how unfair it was to take
“taxes” from these hard-working people and give absolutely nothing in return.

  A shadow filled the corner of my eye. The owner set my plate, filled with bacon and scrambled eggs, and another of hash browns, in front of me. “Thank you,” he said simply. “For what you did.”

  I shrugged. “Yeah, well, times are hard for everyone.”

  “You stood up for us. You’re a true hero.”

  “And now I’m in deep shit with Kanata.”

  “I know. It makes what you did for us so much more meaningful.”

  I hiked a brow. “Meaningful?”

  “If there is anything I can ever do for you, Ragnor, you let me know.” He smiled and started to turn away.

  “More bacon would be nice.”

  Chuckling, he gave me a deep dip of his chin, almost a bow, then walked back to his work running his café. I dug into the bacon and eggs, finding them almost as delicious as Skyler’s cooking, and wondered if this was my last meal. The waitress brought another plate of hot, freshly fried bacon, and set it on my table.

  “Thanks,” I told her, my mouth full.

  “No,” she answered. “Thank you.”

  Hoping she wouldn’t also give me the speech expressing her gratitude, I glanced up to see her smile and walk to another table. The diners there also smiled at me, and the guy waved. Embarrassed, I lifted my fingers in return, then kept my eyes on my food from then on. Contemplating a way out of this fix I put myself in, I wondered if this might be a good time to haul ass out of the city.

  Doing that means leaving Skyler behind. No way will she come with me, leave her family. The thought of traveling brought on that feeling of being drawn toward the northeast, as though I was supposed to head that way.

  “Go blow it out your—” I muttered under my breath.

  I finished my breakfast, and, under the stares of those patrons who had witnessed my tossing Maurice into the gutter, I headed for the door. I belched into my fist, wishing I had the cash to pay the owner. He grinned and waved happily to me despite the fact that he was almost in as much trouble with Kanata as I was.