Shift After Dark

by Liz Paffel

  Gavin slipped the phone in his back pocket. His pulse began to race.

  “Did you see anything suspicious?”

  “No.”

  “This hasn’t been a true safe-house for some time now.”

  He turned back to the stove and stirred the soup. The resting house wasn’t a place of sanctuary anymore—hadn’t been for a long time. Once the hunters had begun to infiltrate the woods, the security of the house had become harder to protect. Soon, it became impossible to hide it.

  Bjorn knew this too; they’d both agreed to abandon the work they’d been doing there. Why the hell would his friend send Isla when it was so unsecure?

  He poured the soup into two bowls, placed one on the counter for her.

  “Thank you.”

  Everything about her was teasing his senses. His bear stirred inside, along with a renewed thirst that would soon be too hard to control. The soup would nourish his human side but would do nothing to feed his primal beast. He’d have to hunt before he lost himself and traced his tongue along the plump vein in the side of her neck and sank his fangs deep.

  His palate began to tingle with a familiar pressure as his fangs threatened to drop. He clenched his jaw and steeled himself to stop the change. The vampire within screamed in frustration while the bear pawed to be released.

  Damn, he was in trouble.

  Gavin raked a hand through his hair and took big strides to the fireplace. He needed distance before he did something Bjorn would never forgive him for. He stoked the fire even though the flames were full of life. Thankfully, she hadn’t moved from the kitchen island. The open concept of the rooms allowed him to be very aware of her without getting too close. Distance and restraint were the only things that would save him right now.

  “Shit, I forgot,” she uttered softly before padding quietly into the living room.

  She grabbed up a small black bag from the side table and sat on the far end of the couch. The flesh on his arms tingled at her proximity. From the corner of his eye, he watched her remove a syringe filled with a pale fluid. Without preamble, she hiked up the hem of her nightgown, baring her smooth, pale thigh. Gavin bit his lower lip to remind himself to stay put.

  “What is that?” He ground out the words.

  Isla wiped an alcohol pad over her skin and deftly drove the needle beneath the flesh of her thigh.

  “Medicine that Bjorn said might help... my migraines.”

  Gavin slowly perused the beautiful length of her leg, from the delicate ankle to the firm mound of calf and shapely thigh. She tossed her hair over one shoulder as she worked. It splayed over her body in an auburn cascade. The tips of his fangs dropped down, poking at his tongue.

  “Migraines?”

  She looked at him for the scantest second. “Yes. I’ve had them for a while now.”

  A flush colored her cheeks and her eyes darted away before he could hold them with his. She was lying, no surprise. Whatever had sent her here was a secret Bjorn hadn’t been quick to share, and from the looks of it, neither was she.

  “The shifter who was shot.” Isla paused in putting the syringe back in the case. She took a small breath, and her hands trembled as she put the medical supplies away. The hopeless cast of her expression gutted him. “Do you know if he lived?”

  Gavin’s forearm began to tingle and burn as if the moon symbol was about to appear again. Whatever magic Isla was rendering, it was affecting him on a purely visceral level. The amount of concern and urgency surrounding her inquiry rocked him. He wasn’t the only one being affected by invisible forces here.

  He reached her in four big strides. Gavin reached across his body and pulled his shirt over his head. She jerked as he grabbed her wrist and placed her palm over the large healing wound on his chest.

  And thought his heart was going to burst right out of it.

  Chapter Seven

  Oh God, don’t let me die.

  The thought waved through her mind like a silken ribbon. Isla wasn’t sure if it was her subconscious or Gavin’s. Nothing was the way it had been. She’d come here to die. But this man—this Ahpret — had her twisted up inside and she’d lost clarity of her purpose.

  He was alive!

  “It’s you.”

  “I figured you already knew that.”

  “I don’t know anything anymore.”

  Her palm tingled from the feel of his hard, warm body. She’d seen him naked when he lay bleeding and unconscious in the snow. But her mind had been intent on saving him, not soaking up his masculine beauty. Right now, it was impossible to ignore.

  His height easily cleared six and a half feet, not surprising considering he had a bear living inside him. Tousled brown curls touched in a glossy wave around his broad shoulders. A shadowy beard covered a strong jaw, leaning more red than brown and highlighting the bright violet of his eyes. A pale scar encircled his thick neck, his chest deeply sculpted, offering lines and dips she wanted to trace and study. A brief glance at his abdomen showed more than a six-pack. There were eight hard-cut blocks of muscle there.

  Inhaling a shuddering breath, she let her hand slide down his chest. A large, circular wound marred his flesh, the edges in varied stages of healing. Below, a similar one lie beneath his ribs. New flesh knit with a glossy sheen over the wounds. Tears filled her eyes as she ran the pads of her fingers over the marred skin.

  “When he carried you off... I thought there was no way for you to survive.”

  His eyebrows knitted together. His hand closed over hers once again, holding her against his chest.

  “You took me to the cave.”

  Cave? A chill raced over her arms and along her spine. The fire was losing its warmth—or maybe she needed a different source of heat. She edged closer, longing for the comfort of his body.

  “No. I put my jacket over your wound and held pressure and the... this sounds crazy even as I say it.”

  “What? Tell me.”

  She whispered the words quickly. “The dragon carried you away.”

  Her hip pressed into him, subtly touching him in increments until the length of her fused the length of him. He was so big and imposing and offered primal comfort and safety she needed right now. The compulsion, whatever it was, made her feel as if submitting to him was the most natural thing. As if she belonged right here. What was she doing? Isla jerked back.

  Gavin went stiff.

  “That’s not possible.” His voice was breathless. “You’re mistaken.”

  Autonomously, she sank into him again. Warmth permeated every inch of her as if he’d wrapped her in a blanket. Hot little sparks danced over her body. She could sleep like this, just like this, pressed against a man she’d just met—a vampire shifter who could rip her neck open while she dozed.

  Gavin put her at arm’s length, his face set hard though hope lit his eyes. “Describe him.”

  It took a second for her brain to formulate words. “I thought it was a giant owl at first, but when he came closer, it was obvious how wrong that was. He was exactly like the mythical creature you’d expect. Long neck, sharp yellow eyes, long jaws full of teeth. Beautiful white, metallic feathers. I swear his eyes were reading my soul.”

  Gavin’s breath came out in a rush. “Kaleo.” Disbelief and hope punctuated his voice. “Did he speak to you?”

  Isla flattened both palms against his chest, reveling in the smoothness of his flesh and the soft, yet coarse mat of hair covering his pecs.

  “No, but I swore I could feel his voice in my mind. Like he’d spoken to me in the past, and I remembered the sound. I just couldn’t understand the words.”

  Gavin drew back, gently setting her away from him. The fog in her mind snapped as he broke free and went to the kitchen. Her legs were weak, a cold rush reclaiming her body. Settling back on the couch, Isla drew a blanket over her. What the hell had she been doing just now, pressed up against him like that?

  A light popped on above the stove followed by the sound of cabinet doors opening and clo
sing. Fatigue crept in fast and hard, weighing her down and begging for sleep.

  The scent of green tea with honey was a sweet blend to the wood smoke as Gavin came around the couch and stood between her and the fireplace. He was stunning. The angles of his face strong in the firelight, his eyes flashing an amazing purple blue. Everything about him screamed strength and vitality, and his obvious masculinity made her insides weak to the core.

  He handed her a mug.

  She warmed her hands around it. “Who is Kaleo?”

  The cords in Gavin’s neck tightened, accentuating the faint red ring around the base of his throat. Tempted to trace it with her finger, she gripped her mug harder.

  “My King.”

  “The driver said the Ahpret who remained here was in line to be King. That’s... that’s you?”

  A grin tried to blossom on his mouth. “Not if my King lives.”

  His jaw worked as he stared straight ahead, struggling with something playing in his mind.

  “Help me understand. If your people are in Canada why isn’t your King there?”

  Gavin slid off the arm of the couch. “If he lives, he soon will be.”

  A whisper wavered through her mind. Kaleo. Kaleo, my King. Can you hear me?

  With a grimace, Gavin suddenly rubbed a hand over his throat. She spied the scar there, a discolored ring reminiscent of rust. Something had marred him; something that still caused him pain.

  “Why are you still here, Gavin?”

  A low rumble came from his throat, a dismissal to her question, maybe. Retrieving his shirt, he pulled it over his head, covering that magnificent body.

  “Punishment.”

  One word, dripping with venom.

  It was best to let it go. The personal details of Gavin’s life were none of her business, nor did they change anything. No matter how curious she was. Her time here was limited.

  “You should get some sleep.”

  He turned back to her, stopped. The violet of his eyes grew brilliant, the amber outline of each iris glittering. His pupils dilated. His nostrils flared just a bit with each inhalation, his jaw set hard.

  If not for this display, it might be easy to forget that Gavin wasn’t human. Outwardly, there was no way to tell that he was holding an animal and vampire within. But this subtle-to-obvious change made it clear what he held behind skin and bone.

  She followed the path of his gaze, glancing down. The blanket had slipped below her breasts. Her nipples pressed against the thin fabric of her nightgown as it clung to each breast in a perfect mold. She moved to grab the blanket, but the squeeze of Gavin’s fingers around her wrist stopped her. A low sound rumbled from his throat as he took the edge of the blanket. His eyes dropped to her throat, his knuckles pressing against her skin as he pulled the cover back up, slowly, to her collarbone.

  Fear rippled through her, but she couldn’t recoil. She didn’t want to.

  He dragged a seductive, raw expression over her body as he grabbed her right hand and turned her arm to bare the place where the mark had been. He swept a thumb there.

  “Do you think you’re safe here?”

  His words were full of heat and challenge. She tipped her chin up and looked at him head on.

  “If you’re an honorable Ahpret, then yes.”

  He huffed and released her arm. “I am.”

  Silence fell between them. He ran a broad hand through his hair.

  “The pattern you saw are called moon marks. They’re a biologic tattoo exclusive to the Ahpret.”

  “I’m not Ahpret.” She sat straighter and splayed her hands. “There must be another explanation.”

  “Does Bjorn know you bear them?”

  “I’ve never experienced it until I got here. He couldn’t possibly know. I didn’t know, and it’s my damn body!”

  Then again, she hadn’t known she had cancer until the tumor had planted deep into her brain. He regarded her, waiting. Isla had the impression that Gavin was waiting for her to share something more, a secret perhaps, something that might shed light on her strange mark.

  “Why are you here, Isla?” The question seemed more like an accusation, as if he already knew, but wanted to hear her say it.

  He needs your permission before he can take your life. Bjorn had insisted that she fully understood that. Consent was a critical law of what Gavin did here. Without it, he was just a murderer.

  “Bjorn thought getting me out of the city was a good idea. We had some trouble with the Agency.” She winced internally. Not quite a lie, but not the entire truth. Voicing that she’d come here to let him take her life made it too real. Besides, what if the medication Bjorn had given her was working? What if it wasn’t her time just yet?

  She could tell by the look on his face that he wasn’t satisfied with her answer. Too bad. She didn’t owe him the truth. Not yet. The pain hadn’t come with its normal frequency since she’d arrived here. Maybe it was the medicine. Maybe it was just this place. In any event, something was staving off her symptoms.

  The intensity of his gaze deepened. She shifted a little and gripped the blanket tight to be sure it didn’t slip down again.

  “Why are you looking at me like that?” She inquired softly.

  “Like what?” His throat moved as he swallowed.

  Like what? Like you want to devour me. Fuck. He probably did. His demeanor pealed by increments, shedding the caring, soft-spoken giant and revealing the dangerous, wild Alpha beneath. His eyes flashed and for the first time, she had a pang of fear.

  “Don’t worry, Isla. I won’t hurt you without your permission.”

  Her body went rigid as a new kind of tension unfurled through her. It wasn’t fear. She wanted to lean into him, to turn her head to the side and bare her neck for him. To feel his lips there and revel in the offering of blood she’d give him. Isla realized she was touching her hair and subtly moving it to the side.

  “I know how it works,” she blurted and cupped a protective hand over her neck.

  He grinned and turned to the flames. The muscles in his broad back moved fluidly, his hair gleaming like oiled fur in the licks of fire light. The fatigue she’d been fighting off crept in, making her eyelids heavy and erasing concern about anything but sleep.

  All at once, his mood changed again, from that soul-trapping intensity, to gentle concern.

  “Get some rest.” Gavin’s voice was soothing. His presence was comforting and a part of her hoped that he wouldn’t leave. He reached for the tea mug she drowsily gave up before sinking gratefully into the cushions. He fluffed her pillow, readjusted it under her head and then tucked the quilt firmly around her. Isla wondered at his care, was too tired to ponder it. Despite the sudden and overwhelming exhaustion, she struggled to meet his eyes.

  “Thank you, for letting me go the other day.”

  A little puff of breath caught in her throat. He was so close. His scent, so strong. Gavin’s eyes searched her face, his irises fading to a light, barely there sky blue. Her eyes closed to the timbre of his whispered words, sounding more promise than threat.

  “I might not let you go next time.”

  Chapter Eight

  She wanted him.

  Gavin watched Isla far too long as she slept before the fire. She’d succumbed to sleep so easily, as if she had no control over it.

  He’d sensed more, her arousal and the sweet tension that never quite left her body. It seemed he was having the same effect on her that she was on him. Curious. Damn Bjorn for sending disruption his way. Isla was far too distracting, and not just because she was breaking his solitude. Something about her touched him on a deeper level and pulled at his animalistic senses in a way he hadn’t experienced in far too long.

  It might be worth exploring... if she wasn’t his best friend’s sister. And if he didn’t have a hunter to find. And what she’d said about the dragon, Kaleo—his King — he was too afraid to hope that she’d been right.

  Isla shifted in her sleep, a piece of hair fal
ling over her face. Gavin slid a finger beneath the lock, taking his time to savor the soft feel of it against his roughened skin. Firelight cast dancing shades of red and orange over her porcelain skin and he lost himself in tracing the lines of her face with his gaze. She was delicate and beautiful. A protective surge pumped through him. He wanted nothing more than to scoop her up, carry her to the bed and wrap himself around her to keep her safe and warm.

  The skin on the back of his neck prickled as he caught an unexpected scent on the air. The bear inside him pounded against his ribs as it detected the scent and pulled it in deeply, saturating his palate. It was a familiar and disturbing.

  The blood of a bear.

  Gavin hurried to the door and unbolted it. Opening it cautiously, he stepped onto the porch. The small yard spread out before him, reminding him that a few short days ago, he’d lay bleeding in the snow just beyond the trees. The rich flavor of fresh blood flooded the crisp air, filling his mouth. Gavin’s fangs punched through his palate while the bear inside him clawed and roared to be let out. The scent wasn’t from a minor wound; it was laced with thick, heady notes of recent death.

  He trembled from the strain of holding back his bear. He wanted to shift and race off into the forest, to track the scent and find the source of the fresh kill. There weren’t any Ahpret around to take down a bear, which left one other culprit: a human hunter.

  A burning sensation began beneath his skin. He had seconds to either rein in his bear or unleash him. Gavin grimaced with the effort of holding back. His fangs pierced his lower lip, drawing blood that trickled down his chin. With a growl, he stepped fully onto the porch as his skin began to ripple and the muscles in his abdomen stretched.

  The hunter was close.

  “Gavin?”

  Isla’s soft voice stopped him, laced with pain and confusion.

  He whipped a look to the house. There was no sign of her moving from the couch. The human part of him wanted to race to her, to reassure her that he was here. But the bear... the bear wanted to hunt.

  To kill.