Not Quite Beast

by Kaye Draper

  I sat up, glaring. "Everyone shut up and get in bed. I'm fucking tired."

  Emerson huffed. "Sam, I'm too big to fit there with you guys. You'll be uncomfortable."

  I held out my arms. "Now, Emerson."

  He shook his head, but came to me, lifting me up, then settling in bed with me lying on his broad chest. "Okay, Sam," he whispered.

  The bed moved as Fin settled in next to us, running a hand through my damp hair.

  "Night Saber," he said, his voice full of sleepy humor.

  I growled. "Stop fucking calling me that."

  Then I passed out.

  Chapter 15

  At twenty-eight years old, I should be old enough to know better. And yet I still did such stupid shit. My eyes burned, so I slammed them closed again to block out the stupid sunlight streaming in through my bedroom window. My mouth tasted like a bunch of hairy pixies had an orgy in it sometime recently. And my head felt like someone had impaled my skull with a harpoon. It took me a minute to realize why the whole room kept slowly moving up and down.

  My bed was breathing. I opened my eyes again, gingerly turning my head to gaze down at the warm, green surface I was lying on.

  Then, it all came back to me in one agonizing rush of fucked-upness. Emerson. Fin. Fairy moonshine. And a whole lot of me flying my freak flag for everyone to see. Gods damn it. I sighed and shifted to the side, sliding off the man-slab I'd apparently slept on all night.

  I sat up to find Fin looking at me with one eye, from where he lay on the other side of the bed. His other eye was squinched closed against the killer sunshine. "Morning Saber," he grunted, then closed his eye again, looking a little green around the gills.

  I closed my eyes and took a bracing breath, then got up and stumbled to the bathroom to relieve my poor bladder before it burst. Walking was a real treat, let me tell you.

  Fuck, I hadn't been this stupid since I was a teenager and I let the full shifters in the pack dare me into smoking some rift herb I'd never heard of. I shuddered at the memory. I'd been sick for a week, and for a few days there, I thought I would be permanently blind.

  Fiend drugs were not a good mix with cur physiology.

  I dragged myself through the motions of brushing my teeth. I'd gone to sleep with wet hair, so it stuck up at weird angles. I stuffed it into a short, messy ponytail and called it good. I still looked like death. But I didn't think I was going to puke. So that was good. Shuffling into the bedroom, I froze. Now that the magical booze cloud was lifting, I didn't know what to do.

  Fin was nowhere in sight. But Emerson was sitting on the edge of the bed, wearing nothing but his jeans, which weren't buttoned. It was like he managed to get dressed this far only by sheer willpower, but could go no further. I knew the feeling. His thick black hair stood up at weird angles, and his green skin went pink when he looked up and saw me. Because, you know, I was still buck-assed naked, all my weird freak anatomy right there on display.

  I ran a hand through my hair and turned on a heel, marching over to the beat-up old dresser to find underwear. Fuck my life.

  Emerson didn't say anything as I yanked on some boxer briefs and a sports bra. "Don't worry about it, ogre," I said, not looking at him as I pulled out a worn pair of jeans and a long-sleeved black t-shirt. "Fairy moonshine makes people do all sorts of dumb shit. I know you probably don't…I mean, I know I'm not--"

  The alarm for the garage door started chirping, and I could hear someone pounding on the metal door downstairs. The sound, even though it wasn't really that loud, sent my head into spasms of blinding pain. "Fucking hell!" I bit out, tugging the rest of my clothes on and starting toward the bedroom door.

  Emerson slowly stood, but he wouldn't meet my eyes. "Did I…did I hurt you, Sam?"

  I stopped in my tracks, trying to ignore the continued racket at the door. "What?"

  I met Emerson's worried red-brown eyes then, and realized he was all but vibrating with his need to pace and wring his hands. "Last night," he said softly. "I don't remember everything. At least I don't think I do. But you wanted me to…I didn't…did I? Are you okay, Sam? Gods, I'm such a big, dumb freak!" He fisted his massive hands by his sides in frustration.

  I backtracked so I could step closer, forcing him to look me in the eyes. "Hey. I'm fine. You didn't hurt me, Em. You would never hurt me." I ran my hand through my hair again as someone banged on the door, destroying my last nerve. "Fucking hold on!" I yelled.

  Emerson flinched at the noise, and I let out a sigh. "Look. I know I'm not the little princess you've somehow made me out to be in your mind, dude. Let's just…forget all about last night. We're good. Okay?"

  I turned and strode out of the bedroom to go kill whoever was making my head feel like it was about to explode. Now the knocking was at the apartment door. Fin was in the kitchen making coffee and bacon, a black scowl on his handsome face that told me he felt exactly as wonderful as I did this morning. "It's the unsanctioned chick. I let her into the garage just to shut her the hell up. Figured she wouldn't knock if she was here to rob the place."

  I snagged a partially cooked strip of bacon out of the pan, stuffed it into my mouth to shut up my rumbling stomach, then gave in to my stupid impulse and bent to kiss the top of Fin's rumpled head. He grunted in reply and continued to focus on food.

  I snatched the door open before the idiot could knock again, then leaned against the door frame, arms crossed over my chest and my brows pinched together in pain. "What?"

  Ahura arched her brows at me. She looked fucking perfect, of course, her wild fluff of kinky curls barely restrained by a brightly colored headband, a light touch of makeup enhancing her sultry features, and her short, curvy frame encased in leather and bright red silk. A pair of curved daggers were holstered at her hips. Her ruby red eyes roamed over me from head to foot and she gave me an evil smile. "Good morning, hunter. Rough night? You look like shit."

  I growled.

  She held up her hands. "Okay, okay. Let's not get all bitey." She winked. "At least not until we're done talking business."

  She lifted her head and her nose twitched. "Is that bacon?"

  Bacon wasn't as expensive as steak, since pigs were a little easier to raise, but it still wasn't cheap. Didn't mean I was going to forgive Angel, just because he'd stuffed my freezer with the crap.

  I rolled my eyes, then groaned when that made the pain worse. Turning away, I went to find coffee. Ahura followed me into the apartment, closing the door behind her. She smiled at Fin, who just glared and climbed off his stepstool to go get the eggs out of the fridge.

  "Wow," the woman said, as she slid into a chair at the table. "Both of you are in a good mood today, huh? Was that little hunt yesterday really so hard on you poor girls?"

  Emerson emerged from the bedroom, still shirtless. He hunched his shoulders and hurried around the couch to grab his crumpled t-shirt when he saw we had company of the strange, female variety.

  Ahura let out a throaty laugh at his blushing. "Oh wow. Now I have to know all about what you three got up to last night. I know there were grenade launchers involved. But I see that's not the best part."

  I set my coffee cup down on the table and slid into a chair across from her. "Why are you here?"

  She shrugged. "I wanted free breakfast at two in the afternoon?"

  I glared. She grinned.

  "I need work, now that my gang's gone,” she finally said. “And the unsanctioned beat is really paranoid right now. Everyone has been warned to be careful who we take jobs for. Apparently, your little pet human isn't someone to fuck with."

  I sipped my coffee and sighed. Glorious caffeine. Fin had made it strong enough even a cur could get a little jolt. "He's not my human. And how does any of that explain why you're here?"

  She reached over and took my fucking coffee cup, lifted it to her glossy lips, and took a sip. Her brown eyes went all dreamy at the taste. "Oh, that's good."

  I grabbed my mug back and stared her down.

  "Okay!"
she said with a laugh, holding up her hands in surrender. "The guy who fucked me over just happened to disappear after most of our gang died in a fiery wreck. I'm not exactly popular with my usual crowd these days. Seems some people think I might have had something to do with the whole thing." She glanced at Fin, her smile going feral. "I was hoping you might have room for another hunter in your guild, Mr. Guild Master."

  Fin rolled his eyes, then groaned when he too realized that was a bad move. He pushed the heels of his hands into his eye sockets. "Son of a blarney loving bitch."

  Ahura smirked as Emerson came over and very carefully lowered himself into the chair between us. "What the hell did you guys do last night? Do you always look so whipped after a simple little hunt?"

  I drank down what was left of my coffee, avoiding the lipstick ring. "Fairy moonshine," I muttered.

  Her smile deepened. "Really? Is there any left? It goes great with bacon and fried potatoes."

  We all groaned in horror.

  Her laughter was rich and warm. Not right, for a low-life, unsanctioned killer.

  "Well," she said, standing and snatching a couple pieces of bacon before she headed toward the door. "Think about it, yeah? I'll come back when you're in a better mood." She paused at the door and looked back at us. "If being part of the guild means I have to partake in the orgies, I'm not so sure this is going to work out. Although…the bacon might make it worth it." She tossed a look at Emerson's hulking form. "And I do like a challenge."

  I threw a piece of toast at her head. My whole body might be protesting right now, but my aim was still deadly. Luckily, she had good reflexes. She slammed the door behind her, and the toast hit the place where her head had been a second before. Warm laughter floated through the door as she left.

  Chapter 16

  I twisted the drain plug and pulled it out, letting the stream of oil start flowing into the pan by my head. Shit, that stuff was looking pretty nasty. Probably should have changed it before now.

  The synthetic stuff was way less expensive and far easier to find than the real stuff people used to use before the rift. But it still wasn't cheap. Engines like the one in the Jeep were slowly going extinct, and so were all the things you needed to keep them running. I played the sometimes-dangerous game of "how far can I push it to avoid buying oil before I risk ruining the engine" on a daily basis.

  I rolled out from under the Jeep and stood, grabbing a rag from my back pocket and wiping my hands. I had my weapons laid out on the workbench so I could take care of them while the oil drained. I smiled. It wasn't like I exactly loved stuff like this, but I did enjoy the peace.

  It was quiet in the converted cannery garage. When I'd moved in, most of the equipment from its days as a working cannery had already been cleared from the building, either by its original owners, or by the opportunistic thieves looking to make some money on scrap. That made my job easier. I'd had the walls insulated and lighting installed, and shelled out a shit-ton of money for magic wards and good, locking storage for my weapons and tools. All in all, one of my best decisions.

  I stood there, taking in a contented breath as I tried to let go of the last lingering traces of worry over recent events. It hadn't always been a pleasant trip, but I had managed to do pretty well for myself. I had this place. And while no one else might ever really see it, to me, it was a sanctuary. It was a symbol of my ability to claw my way to some sort of solid ground with nothing but my own claws and teeth, no matter what kind of bullshit the world threw at me just because of the way I was born.

  My quiet contemplation of my life was ruined by a banging on the side door. I glanced at the black and white screen that showed the stoop, then groaned.

  The last thing I wanted to do today was deal with spoiled, rich human politicians.

  I stuffed the rag into my back pocket and went to unlock the door. Theo came in, brushing past me like he owned the place. His two thugs took up stations on either side of the door, craggy faces blank as they stared out at the street.

  "He always just go wherever he wants?" I asked the one on the right.

  He shrugged, but didn't look away from the street. Thug number two kept his eyes on the broken sidewalks. But at least he made words. "Who's going to stop him?"

  I narrowed my eyes. "I might. Using something sharp and stabby. Depends on how much he pisses me off today."

  I shut the door and turned to find the human wandering around my space, trailing a finger over my tools, inspecting the knives and gun that were on the workbench, poking his nose into the pile of debris on a nearby table that was a gas chainsaw I was trying to rebuild for fun.

  "Why are you here?" I demanded, crossing my arms over my chest. "Suddenly decide you want to get your hands dirty turning screws?" I nodded at the mess of parts on the table.

  He glanced at me, and a fleeting smile crossed his face. "Ah, no. I'm afraid I never learned the true art of being a 'real man.'" He waved his perfectly manicured fingers. "Not enough callouses or grease stains."

  I narrowed my eyes at him. "I'm sure you can find lots of other ways to get your hands dirty."

  His face blanked and his brows climbed almost into his hairline. "I didn't think you'd be so direct, Sam. I'm sure your bed is pretty full, what with having two mates."

  I rolled my eyes. That wasn't the kind of dirty I meant, and he knew it. I was talking about bloodstains and political games.

  I absolutely did not get a little jot in my gut when he looked at me like that, his boring brown eyes glowing with humor and flirtation. Everything about the man was fake. He was a walking lie.

  "Why are you here?" I said again, going to the workbench to wipe down my knives with a polishing cloth.

  He grabbed an empty five-gallon bucket and turned it upside down, then plopped his precious, rich ass on it. He didn't seem too concerned about how much dirt he was getting on his fancy-assed suit.

  "I like it here," the human said calmly, leaning against the wall to watch me work. "I like you Sam. And I want to offer you a job."

  I bit out a short laugh. "Ha. After how that last job turned out? I'm not so fond of your offers. I'd rather stick to killing monsters. The ravenous, out of control fiend kind."

  I was honestly surprised he hadn’t tried to get out of paying me, since he’d had to go help me track down the thugs in the end.

  He tilted his head. "Who does the spellwork on your blades? It's quite good."

  I glanced at him. I could sense more magic on him today than I had before. He had probably upped his personal protection charms again. "Why? Looking for a new practitioner to make your little talismans?"

  He smiled at me, a slow, secret thing that was way hotter than it should be. It transformed his plain face into something else. Something sharp. "You didn't ask me how I could sense the magic on your blades."

  I shrugged and pointed at the bracelet I could see peeking out from beneath his cuff. "I assume you've got a charm for that too. I would, if I was a weak-assed human with a big 'ol target on his back."

  He nodded. "Of course."

  I set aside the first knife and moved on to the second one. "You're out of luck. My magic worker friend is full fiend. She'd never make a charm for a human. Would rather they all fucked off and died."

  He just laughed at that. "A common opinion, I'm sure."

  I turned to study him curiously. "Look. I know you're all…super important and stuff. But what the hell did you do to piss people off so bad? I don't think wanting your position is enough to explain all the weird underhanded shit that's going on—and I probably don't even know the half of it. Besides, a straight-up public assassination would be easier."

  Theo shifted on his bucket seat, leaning forward to put his elbows on his knees, a lock of brown hair coming free from its perfect arrangement to curl over his forehead, making him look even younger and softer. "They hate what I stand for," he said softly. "I'm about to change everything. I'm about to force everyone in this city to get along or get out." He glanced
up at me, his brown eyes glowing a fierce honey color. "No one is going to like it. The curs and the fiends hate being under the thumb of a human. But even more than that, they'll have to become fully functioning citizens, which means following all the rules, not just the ones they choose. The humans will naturally brand me a traitor, since I'll expect them to stop discriminating and terrorizing their unwanted neighbors." He shrugged. "All in all, I either already have or soon will piss off every single person in this town, and all my peers ruling in neighboring towns as well."

  I blinked at him. "You're insane. It's a pretty thought, all that equality bullshit. But it will never work. They'll all kill each other. And you in the process."

  He nodded. "Very likely."

  I shook my head and turned to disassembling and cleaning my handgun. "Well," clearly you aren't going to leave until you tell me about this stupid job you want me to do. Spill it and get the hell out."

  The human stood and came to watch me take my gun apart. "You're different than a lot of others," he said softly. "You straddle the middle, so I would expect you to be able to see both sides of it all, the big picture."

  I shrugged. "Being a cur doesn't mean belonging to both sides, dude. It means belonging nowhere. The fiends and your humans can all go fuck themselves as far as I'm concerned."

  He let out a short laugh. "Maybe that's even better. You don't own anyone loyalty. And yet, for all that, you still try to protect people, in your own way."

  I set my rag aside and got out some cleaning oil. "I just go where the money is," I said flatly. "I'm not some fucking hero. Hunting monsters is easy, and it pays my bills."

  He didn't bother to reply to that, just leaned his elbows on a clear space on the workbench. "I have a family member coming to join me here in Westhold. Given how my own trip across the wastelands went, I think it would be ideal to hire some protection."

  I sighed and looked at the ceiling, praying for patience. "Again, you have people for that. Government people."