Shift After Dark

by Liz Paffel

  Shaken from the primal response, Isla twisted her face away. Her hands pressed against his hard chest.

  “What are you doing?” She wiped the back of her hand over her mouth, trying to clear away her body’s response.

  Gavin swept his lower lip slowly with a thumb. Instead of wiping her taste away, it looked like he was trying to ingrain it to his flesh.

  “Tasting you before I go.”

  He took two steps back, gave her one long look before turning to the door. Running on emotion, Isla burst forward and grabbed the back of his shirt. He jerked to a stop.

  “You’re right. I didn’t tell you the truth.” Isla clenched her hands as the words raced out. Better to tell him now than later. “I came here to find you. You know that already.”

  He made a slow turn to face her. Isla looked at the floor to give herself a bit of space from his intensity. His arms crossed. A muscle jerked in his cheek while his entire body visibly tensed.

  He lived in seclusion for a reason. She’d been given a complete run-down of his history to help her decide if she wanted to go through with this or not. She knew about the war and she understood why Gavin would choose to close himself off from the world. He’d killed. A lot. He’d fed from his victims. He’d mauled and dismembered. All for an ungrateful country who allowed his people to be slaughtered for the narcotic-like serum they carried in their upper palates.

  “I’m dying.” Her eyes flicked up to meet his. “I have a tumor on my brain that’s not operable and there is no cure.”

  She reached behind her head and flipped her hair, bending down so he could see the small scar at the base of her skull where a biopsy had been performed.

  “It’s cancerous, and in a matter of a few weeks, maybe days, I’m going to die a very excruciating death. The pain is torture, but what’s worse is not knowing just how much time I have left.”

  Gavin blinked, each fall of his eyelids darkening his eyes more. He licked his lower lip with the barest tip of tongue and regarded her deeply. His throat moved with a hard swallow, the vein along the side of his neck suddenly visible with a bounding pulse.

  “You want euphoric death, as I said?” His impassive voice made her stomach flip. He made it sound so distasteful, so wrong.

  Her brows knit. “Yes.”

  He was shaking his head ‘no’ before she’d uttered the word. Muscles in his forearms flexed, drawing her attention to the long veins and strips of tendon and cord beneath dark skin.

  “I can’t help you.” He moved away again.

  Desperation blossomed in her chest. “Bjorn said... “

  “Damn your brother!” He crossed to the doorframe, slapped a hand against it. “He knew better than to send you to me. His own sister.”

  Hope was slipping through her fingers.

  “I didn’t want him to jeopardize himself anymore for me. I couldn’t stand it if he was arrested, or worse, because of me.” Isla turned. She pressed the knuckles of her left hand against her mouth to keep her lips from quivering.

  Gavin was so quiet; she thought maybe he’d left. She didn’t have it in her to turn around and look. Every fiber was losing strength, the need to sleep taking over with a heavy grip.

  The floor creaked with his movement. “I won’t help you, Isla.” He looked back, his tone agonized and hard. “I can’t help you.”

  The bathroom door slammed, and he was gone.

  Chapter Ten

  The moon cast brilliant silver light off the snow. While Gavin didn’t need the light to stalk through the night, he welcomed the potent energy it offered. Isla’s confession nailed him. She wanted him to give her euphoric death by pumping her full of the narcotic serum in his bite, yet the very thought of it created a sadness in him so confounding; he had no idea how to harness it.

  His past included a string of others suffering at his hands. Luca, for all his young Ahpret innocence had determined to follow Gavin into war, despite his family’s fervent protest. Instead of pushing him away, Gavin had taken the young warrior under his wing and thrust him into chaos. Luca would likely die because of him; because the trauma Gavin exposed him to had sealed him into a fatal shift.

  Fuck, he wasn’t going to run down the long, long list of wrongs he’d done.

  Blood would make it better.

  He wanted to watch over Isla, make sure she was all right, and comfort her when she needed it. The simple act of wiping blood from her face gave him a calm satisfaction he hadn’t felt in a long, long time. Killing her wasn’t something he was going to add to his list.

  His senses were on high alert. Torn between returning to Isla and quenching the ever-growing need for human blood, Gavin gave in to the urge to hunt. He had to; the thirst was leaving him no choice. He’d canvas the woods in search of the hunter.

  More, he needed to find the source of the unfamiliar male telekinetic voice. He’d threatened Isla. Gavin needed to find the bastard, and soon.

  Silently, with a long-born skill, Gavin navigated through the forest and underbrush. A small cabin came into view. He’d been here before, many times in this cat-and-mouse game. It was a hunting cabin used by the Ahpret and taken over by ballsy humans. Most didn’t survive the night, or quickly fled when they realized how the Ahpret felt about trespassers.

  Two deer carcasses hung from low branches at the edge of the woods. Gavin sensed the bear traps beneath the frozen corpses; made sure to pick his way carefully to the run-down hunting shack.

  The smells of wood smoke, roasted meat and bear’s blood made his pulse quicken; they marked this poacher as the same that shot him. A deep ache began in Gavin’s shoulders and worked its way down his spine. The grizzly within struggled to be let out. He held back. His hunger needed to be slacked before he could attempt another shift, especially after the energy he used in mid-shift once today. Isla had presented the perfect opportunity for feeding.

  Gavin pushed away the faint kiss of her blood on his tongue. So sweet. Too sweet. Her taste made him think things he never allowed himself to dwell on—leaving for Canada, starting a new life. Taking a mate. A tight breath hissed between his lips as he carved out that thought and threw it away. Isla could not be his—she was dying, and he couldn’t save her.

  Besides, his mating time would be gone with the next full moon, just days from now. After that, he’d weaken until he died.

  His fangs dropped. A satisfying warmth and quiver of anticipation rippled through his belly. A thick oilskin tarp hung over the door to the shack. Thick tendrils of wood smoke filtered from behind it each time the wind blew. Listening; smelling and tasting the air, Gavin pressed against the exterior cabin wall for long moments until he gauged the human inside was asleep.

  It was too easy and a little disappointing how quickly he had the human by the neck. Gavin squeezed the man’s throat, lifting him from the bed with one hand. The human’s jugular veins became pounding ropes, the gargling, startled noises bubbling from his lips only fueling Gavin’s anger.

  This had been too easy. After months of back and forth, this human had come too readily into his hands.

  “Why do you hunt me?” Gavin smiled as the human’s arms flailed.

  His voice changed a little when his fangs were out, his tone lower but more commanding. He enjoyed knowing how the sound of his voice, his growl, instilled fear in weak humans like this. While he didn’t take much pleasure from scaring people, in times like this, he wanted to roll around on the satisfaction.

  Flames from the central floor fire pit flickered over the man’s face, highlighting the terror in his bugged-out eyes. A memory flashed in Gavin’s mind, a reflection of similar terror. The terror in the eyes of every man he’d killed in the war. The terror in the eyes of every Marine he couldn’t save.

  With a disgusted grunt, Gavin released the man, smirking as he crumpled to the dirt floor.

  “It’s not me!”

  “You shot me. I’ll consider that fair trade for your blood.”

  The human raked him w
ith a slow, trembling gaze. “No, please!”

  He scrambled backwards, the butt of his winter overalls scraping across the frozen ground. The man recognized there was nowhere to go. Gavin slapped a hand over the rifle on the bedside table at the same time the man looked desperately to it.

  “Why do you hunt me?” he asked again, indicating with one hand that the man should stand.

  “It’s not me. Please. I said I’d help him hunt you down in exchange for the serum. I’m sorry I shot you. It’s my wife. Please... I just want to help her.” The human stood cautiously, palms out. “I just want to help her.”

  The pulse in Gavin’s temple beat hard and fast. Isn’t that why they all came? Damn government keeping pain medications from the people. He grabbed the man’s shirt and pulled him up nose-to-nose. The human cried out.

  “Your wife?” Gavin could smell the man’s fear, was sure he’d pissed himself.

  “I need medicine. I know the Ahpret have stuff in their heads that - “

  Gavin opened his mouth; dropped his fangs into their lowest position. The human screamed again, struggled against a grip he had no way of getting free of. Gavin pulled back, his eyes burning with anger.

  “We carry our serum in our palates, behind our fangs, like a snake.” Gavin’s stomach growled loud and insistent. He pulled back the rage, willed himself to calm down. If he didn’t, he’d suck the human dry. Even as angry as he was, he didn’t want to be responsible for another death.

  Not this man’s death and not Isla’s.

  “What’s wrong with her?” Gavin used his right hand to crank the man’s head to the left. The human sputtered, his hands wrapping around Gavin’s forearms in a death grip.

  “Bone cancer, sir!”

  Sir? Fuck that. He put his lips over the man’s warm, beating jugular. Gavin’s eyes rolled in the back of his head at the promise of blood.

  “I’m not going to kill you,” he rumbled against dry, hot skin. “Unless you don’t leave by morning.” He sank his fangs, injecting the human with the very numbing, pain-killing serum he’d come for. The deep, warm rush of blood-filled Gavin’s mouth and slid down his throat. He retracted his teeth. Blood pulsed into his mouth with each beat of the man’s heart. Gavin caught it on his tongue, swirled it on his lips before drinking deeply.

  It filled him with a pleasurable vibration that bordered ecstasy. This man’s skin didn’t smell like cucumber and lemon like Isla’s; was missing the sweetness Gavin craved. As he drank, he couldn’t help but wonder how much louder his body would sing if he fed from Isla. The urge to get back to her was suddenly stronger than his need for blood. He healed the bite marks and lowered the groggy man into a rickety chair.

  Closing his eyes to relish the strength now flowing through him, Gavin wiped at his mouth and hunkered down to the human’s level.

  “Who hunts with you? You mentioned there was someone else.”

  Glassy-eyed, the human laxly shook his head. “I don’t know his name. I meet him here sometimes.”

  “He offered you serum in exchange for what?”

  “Killing the Alpha.”

  Gavin rumbled deeply from his throat. “I am the Alpha. If you step foot on my reserve again, I will drain every drop from your pathetic body.”

  The human managed to meet his eyes, gave a nod of understanding as he looked away. Gavin reached into his pocket and produced a small packet. He tossed it at the man’s feet.

  “There’s one vial of serum. Take it and go.”

  A sound caught his attention. His heart flipped, alarm beating against his chest. Leaving the human, he raced out into the night.

  # # #

  Flickers of memory played in between spurts of searing pain; she and Bjorn jumping into the swimming pool at their childhood home, their parents cutting their 30th wedding anniversary cake, the amazing smile on Bjorn’s face when he graduated medical school. She loved him beyond measure and missed him the way anyone would miss a best friend. His comfort would make all the difference now as she lay on the bathroom floor.

  Alone.

  Isla curled into a tight ball and weakly wrapped both arms over her head. Pulling traction on her neck did little to ease the pain like it usually did. This wasn’t the normal pain she experienced in bouts; it was vicious and unrelenting. The tumor grew in spurts, like stepping on the gas pedal and letting go, step, release, step, release. Sometimes, it grew with more acceleration and refused to let off until the pain pushed her into unconsciousness. She was praying for blessed oblivion right now.

  The floor tiles were cool on her cheek, her skin was tight and scratchy. The pain started shortly after Gavin had left and grew with each passing hour until she’d become a curled ball on the floor. Unable to keep anything down, she’d resolved to stay in the bathroom until this fit passed. But it didn’t want to pass.

  Just as Bjorn had predicted, the pain would come to stay, and shortly after, she’d be dead.

  She’d never imagined dying alone. Even Gavin, with his indifference, would be better than the empty chill of solitude.

  Searing agony ripped through the back of her head. Why didn’t she pass out? Each ripple of pain was a torture she couldn’t escape. Enduring worsening pain didn’t seem possible. Isla waited for a wave to come and go. In the sparse moment of respite, she forced herself onto her knees and crawled to the small bathroom closet. She’d put her extra cosmetics bag on the top shelf—out of reach, and hopefully, forever forgotten.

  She reached on tippy toe to get the bag down, managed to unzip it and grab a small bottle as another spasm sliced like a cleaver through the back of her head. She sunk to the floor, the top popping off the vial of poison tablets Bjorn had given her as a last resort. Long minutes passed as she rocked back and forth with her head squeezed between her forearms. The pills nested in her palm seemed to bite at her flesh.

  Twenty-eight years old and it had come to this.

  She was always resolved not to take her own life. Instead, she’d run to the Ahpret, begging him to do what she could not. And he’d left her to deal with her cowardice alone. Isla’s palms began to sweat. Maybe the pills would dissolve and seep into her skin, killing her without having to swallow them. As she slipped into a half-sleep, Isla swore her palm burned more.

  Her body floated, became wrapped in soothing warmth as her mind leveled into a peaceful, almost happy state. Bjorn’s poison didn’t cause agony or take a long time to work. They must be working now, right through her skin and into her blood. She’d almost settled into the comfortable feeling when a new maelstrom of pain tried to disassemble her skull. Isla shot upright, tried to stand, to run away—anything to make it stop.

  Strong arms wrapped around her. “I’ve got you. I’ll make it better, Isla, I promise.”

  She fell backwards, down, down, and sank into softness. Ice assaulted the side of her neck, like a hundred ice cubs rubbing her skin raw before the chill spread into a pleasurable dance along each nerve. Sensual, wavering on the same plane as sexual release, the sensation lifted the pain in a blast of shattered colors behind her eyes. Red, yellow, blue, and purple burst like stars—faded, taking all the discomfort with.

  She was suspended, wrapped in satiation. She’d never felt so at peace, so relaxed.

  So safe.

  Isla opened her eyes just enough to see Gavin staring down at her, fangs dripping with blood.

  Chapter Eleven

  He shouldn't have left her alone.

  Gavin lay on the bed, watching Isla as she awakened. He was in awe of her strength. For a woman condemned to death, she hung on. It made him wonder just how long she’d been struggling and how much longer she could hold out. Her eyes opened, lids fluttering as she tried to focus in the dim two a.m. light. Confusion, fear, and then pleasant relief went rapid fire across her face.

  “Gavin.”

  The husky way she whispered his name made his chest squeeze. Despite the near darkness, he saw her clearly. The deep-etched lines of pain were smoothed away,
the shadows beneath her wide hazel eyes, gone. Her face was youthful, the way it should be. Knowing it was careless, and not giving a damn, he lifted a chunk of hair away from her face with two fingers and tucked it behind her ear. His touch lingered—the feel of her sleep-warmed skin, amazing—traced from ear to jaw before he pulled away.

  Guilt over leaving her settled deep inside his conscious. She was Bjorn’s sister. If nothing else, he owed Bjorn the comfort of knowing his sister was being watched after. But that wasn’t all of it. Isla was more. His forearm began to ache. He rubbed the spot. She slid closer. One small hand traced the buttons on his black flannel shirt.

  “You bit me.”

  He grabbed her hand, a tremble going through him. “I gave you serum to stop the pain.”

  Her face brightened. “I feel... amazing.”

  Relief was sweet. “I’m glad.”

  The soft mattress and moonlit room created an intimate space as if nothing else lay beyond the bedroom door. He’d brought her here after he’d bitten her but never intended to stay. Worried that he’d given her too much serum, or maybe not enough, he decided to keep watch for a while. One hour turned into many, and with each passing minute, it was harder to get up and leave the room.

  He’d closed his eyes and listened to the steady sound of her breathing, realized how fitting the weight of her body next to him was. Guilt made him stay here, he told himself. Isla’s fingers curled in his hand. She scooted closer until he was completely wrapped in her scent.

  “You scowl a lot.”

  The lightness of her voice was like a treat. The serum numbed her pain receptors, helped muscles relax, increased endorphins, giving her a mild intoxication. She slipped her hand from his, touched his cheek. Soft streaks of pleasure followed the trail of her fingers as she eased them down his jaw and neck. Her forehead sat just below his chin, but all she had to do was tip her chin up and her lips would be right there...

  “You’re too damn beautiful to look so angry, Gavin.”