by Amelia Jade
With a deep growl he obliged.
***
A brisk breeze wafted in through the open window, decidedly cool for the time of year. Next to him a form stirred in the bed, moving closer to him if it was at all possible, trying to bask in the heat of his embrace.
“It’s cold,” she muttered.
He rolled his eyes, knowing she was just joking. Shifters don’t get cold. At least not from a little draft like that. Still, he wanted to stay in her good graces, so he rolled from the bed with a groan and crossed over to the window, pulling it shut. They had opened it at some point during the night to help air the place out.
There must have been something in the alcohol. He wasn’t even sure how many times they’d made love overnight. He lost count when the third blurred into the fifth. It didn’t matter, either. Neither of them kept track of how many climaxes the other had. They just wanted to please the other.
He grinned. And pleased he had been. Although Karlie generally preferred to let him take the reins in the bed, when she did take control, he had been the one who inevitably benefitted from it.
Now that he had stirred, he wasn’t going to get back to sleep. He hopped in the shower, letting scalding water cleanse him of the layer that had accumulated from dried sweat and other bodily liquids. The overhead rainfall showerhead helped to scour him clean, and half an hour later he exited the shower with a renewed zest for life.
“Well, that was wonderful,” he remarked, glancing at the clock, surprised he’d been in there that long. Emerging back into the bedroom he looked over at the bed, expecting to find her still fast asleep.
Instead, the smell of coffee brewing in the kitchen wafted back down the hallway, tantalizing him with the idea of caffeine.
“She’s perfect,” he said happily, throwing on some clothes and heading out of the bedroom.
What he saw stopped him short in his tracks.
Standing in the doorway was a man who matched Karlie’s description of Vincent too perfectly to be anything but him, all the way down to the leering grin. Next to him was an older-looking shifter who was effortlessly holding a knife to Karlie’s throat, his free hand clamped firmly over her mouth. Red tinged his vision and he took a step toward them.
“Ah ah!” Vincent cautioned, and the gray-haired shifter pressed the knife more firmly into her neck. He saw a drop of blood appear around the blade.
“Now look what you’ve made us go and do,” Vincent said in distaste, eyeing the droplet of blood speculatively. “That’s your fault,” he said angrily, stabbing a finger in Raphael’s direction. “Now,” he said cheerily. “I’m sure you’re wondering how we found you.”
Raphael shook his head. “No,” he ground out, his voice tight with rage.
“Nonsense!” the shifter replied with a wave of his hand. “Of course you are. You’re in a random city, staying at a grand hotel. Nice choice of room by the way,” he said, looking around the suite. He was proud of having tracked them down and outwitting Raphael, and now he was gloating.
The blood-colored mist continued to descend over his vision as he listened to the other man talk.
“But you made one crucial mistake. You see, we have her credit card information. It’s how we got her in the first place. It’s so simple these days to call the bank and fool them into thinking you’re the account holder. Then bam, they told us where it was being spent. After that, it was a simple case of talking to the store owner where you let her spend all that money.” Vincent’s head was bouncing back and forth as he dissected the shortcomings of the pair. It was so blatantly condescending Raphael had a hard time not jumping the table, two couches, and about thirty feet of space between them and ripping the man’s head off.
The older shifter gave him pause. Shifters gained strength as they aged. A bear shifter with graying hair would mean a powerful enemy. He needed to act calmly and rationally, and do the right thing. As long as the right thing wasn’t letting her go. That just wasn’t an option.
“Let her go Vincent,” he said calmly. “It’s over.”
The man laughed. “Over? No, it’s just beginning! When Luthor finally wipes out that pathetic nest of shifters in Genesis Valley, he will remake the world in his own vision.”
Beside him, Karlie rolled her eyes. “You idiot. That vision doesn’t include you. Don’t you realize that?”
Raphael held his breath. How did this imbecile still not know that Luthor was dead, and their attempted invasion of Genesis Valley defeated?
Vincent’s backhand hit Karlie square in the face. “I don’t want to hear another word out of you, or Carlos here is going to remove your tongue. Got it?”
Karlie didn’t respond.
Raphael needed a distraction. Something to get the knife away from Karlie’s throat. If he could just get that much of an opening, he could make his move.
Karlie spoke suddenly. “I’m about to sneeze. Please don’t slit my throat.”
The knife loosened, and she sneezed. As she did, small flecks of stuff came flying out of her nose, as her hand wasn’t there to cover it.
“Ew,” Carlos said, and without thinking he moved the knife away from her throat to wipe his arms.
The instant the knife was clear Karlie kicked back with her heel.
“Move!” Raphael bellowed as he capitalized on the moment. Leaning back on his left foot he slammed his right into the nearest couch.
It went flying into Carlos a split second after Karlie leapt clear of its path. The shifter was still bent-over from the pain in his crotch where Karlie kicked him, and the metal-framed couch slammed into his head, the force of the blow sending him spinning away to the floor. He would get up in a minute, but for the time being, he was stunned and out of the fight.
“Enough of this!” Vincent shouted and lunged at Raphael.
He watched the man come, his sense of time slowing. It always happened that way. He called it “fight time.” It was as if he gained the ability to think super-fast. Every motion seemed slowed, despite the rapid-fire pace that he knew was occurring in real-time. Raphael had no explanation for it, but he was positive it was what allowed him to be such an effective fighter.
Even now, as Vincent closed on him, he sensed the big right hook coming his way, and saw it start to happen with plenty of time to duck. He dipped to his own right, allowing the blow to pass harmlessly over his head. Bunching his legs he powerfully lunged upward, aiming to send a massive fist home into Vincent’s jaw.
The other shifter was quick though, and as he pulled back from the overextended position his missed punch had left him in, his left arm swung into a block, deflecting Raphael’s knockout punch until it just glanced off Vincent’s shoulder. Now Raphael was the exposed one, and he took a fist to his stomach painfully as punishment.
He stomped down hard on Vincent’s instep, and the two backed away slightly for a split second. His eyes flicked around the room, and he noticed two things almost immediately. Trying to keep a smile off his face, he began to circle Vincent, as if gauging his opponent before making the next attack. What Vincent didn’t realize was that he was allowing Raphael to get between him and the door.
Which is exactly where Karlie was waiting.
With a snarl he lunged to the side, grabbed the heavy, expensive coffee table and swung it full force right at Vincent. The other shifter caught the blow instead of allowing it to hit him. Raphael raised an eyebrow in surprise, but it didn’t matter. Vincent was off balance now, and with a vicious push, Raphael sent him and the table flying across the room to crash into the marble wall.
“Go!” he shouted at Karlie as he turned and headed toward the door. “Get the elevator!”
She darted through the opening, expecting him to be right behind her. He heard Vincent swearing behind him as he recovered from the blow. In front of him, the other shifter was just climbing to his feet, blocking the path between him and the door.
Shit.
He had a few precious seconds before Vincent would
be back in the fight. When that happened, he would be heavily outclassed. Raphael was confident he could defeat either of the two of them one-on-one. He was well trained and had lots of experience. When they teamed up and took him on together though, the sheer strength of them would eventually overwhelm him, no matter how good of a fight he put up. The only real option was for him to eliminated Carlos first, before Vincent closed on him.
Time to go supernova I guess.
He hated doing this, but it was a trick he had learned from Marcus Kedyn a long time ago. Reaching deep inside himself, he summoned his bear. The beast, eager to be set loose to deal with the threat to his person and to the woman he loved, surged forward, knowing it was about to be unleashed.
At the very last second, Raphael swung the mental trap closed. It was tough to do, and had taken him several years of concentration to get the hang of it. It had taken several more to learn how to make it work the way he wanted.
Across his skin, brown-gray fur sprouted everywhere. His limbs swelled to an unnatural size, and his facial features shot forward into an elongated snout as his bear fought to appear. Their minds warred, but Raphael had the bear in a steel vise grip, and he wasn’t yielding any more. The only concession he made was allowing his bear to realize just what he intended. That helped calm it a little, but not much. The rage flowed through him.
Just as his fingers threatened to turn into claws, Raphael reared back on his bear, slamming his shift to a halt.
“What the fuck,” Carlos whispered in horrified awe as the apparition across the room stalked forward.
Holding onto the bond was mentally exhausting, and Raphael knew if he didn’t win the fight swiftly, he was screwed. But for now, his seven-and-a-half-foot-tall frame padded forward, his long, thick, powerful arms bunching with muscle. He allowed his jaw to twist into a travesty of a human-style grin as he bore down on the unlucky Carlos.
He was half-human, half-bear in literal form. Long, powerful legs of his bear, shaped and angled like a human. The powerful jaws full of the sharp teeth of a bear, jutting from a human-style head.
All of the advantages of the size and power—he weighed well over a hundred pounds more—but he didn’t lack the fighting disadvantages of having to use all four limbs to move. His first swipe at Carlos sent the powerful shifter flying. He crashed into the kitchen amid a raucous sound of pots and pans and splintering wooden cabinetry.
Raphael turned to pursue him, but the shaking of the floor and a very loud roar stopped him. Glancing back where he knew Vincent had been, he saw a massive black bear coming at him. He had no time to react to avoid the blow. Instead, all he could do was turn with it as Vincent barreled into his side. A giant fist pounded down on his opponent’s jaws, eliciting a bark of pain as he connected solidly with the bear’s snout while they rolled across the room, furniture shattering as they went.
Vincent got the upper hand, emerging on top of Raphael. His jaws snapped down at his exposed shoulder, biting deep into the flesh. Face down into the floor with a mammoth angry bear on his back, Raphael snarled in rage as he felt the teeth sink into his skin. His right arm was useless at the moment, but he still had the body of a human, not that of a bear. Rolling slightly onto his right side, ignoring the excruciating pain that followed, he drove his left elbow back as hard as he could.
Something collapsed under his blow, and the pressure on his torn shoulder suddenly eased. Scrambling out from under the other bear, he delivered a solid kick into the same place he’d hit it with his elbow. The bear wailed in pain, but still swatted out with its paw, catching Raphael’s leg and leaving huge gashes down his fur-covered calf that immediately began to pulse as blood flowed from the wounds.
He walked forward, hissing as he put weight down on his injured limb, tendrils of pain shooting up his leg each time. Reaching down, he clamped his steel-like fingers around Vincent’s neck, and lifted the shifter until the bear was hanging from his grip. It was a lot of weight, and his arms began to tremble as he dragged him toward the glass window.
A knife whipped through the air, the blunt end slamming into one of his hands. The digits numbed for a second as Raphael was forced to release Vincent. The bear collapsed into an undignified heap, still making pitiful noises about the pain in its side. Raphael slammed his good foot down on top of one of its paws as he turned, crunching the bones inside into a thousand pieces. Then he shifted out of reach of Vincent’s remaining paw.
The move cost him, however, as his injured leg wobbled and forced him down on to one knee. Another knife, this one much smaller thankfully, sunk into his upper chest. Raphael growled and grabbed the nearest piece of furniture, holding that between him and the kitchen, where Carlos was searching for more knives.
With surprisingly deft fingers, Raphael pulled the knife from his arm with a roar of pain. His mind was weakening almost as rapidly as his body, and he knew he had to either complete the shift or resume his human form very soon.
A huge blow rocked him backward as Carlos slammed into the couch he had been using as a shield. Raphael cursed his own stupidity. Yes, the couch had saved him from flying knives, but it had prevented him from seeing what Carlos was up to. His body flew backward in the air under the blow, hitting the ground hard, until he hit the glass window overlooking the city. The glass made a cracking sound but it didn’t shatter.
There was no time to think about that, though, as Carlos was flying at him once again. Raphael did the only thing he could think of. He stuck the arm that was still holding the knife he had pulled from his shoulder straight out in front of him. Mid-flight, there was nothing Carlos could do as he impaled himself on the six-inch blade, the hilt sliding easily through the puncture hole in his skin as the blade dug up into his internal organs.
Raphael knew it was over as soon as he saw the knife drive home. But he couldn’t relax. Behind him the floor-to-ceiling glass window shattered. His only support gone, he fell backward, out of the room.
Chapter Fourteen
Karlie
She peeked back into the room just in time to see the window shatter, and a gargantuan form that could only have been Raphael tumble out through it, taking another body with him.
“Raphael!” she screamed, running toward the window in terror as the man she cared for was swept over the edge.
She slid to a halt as a gust of wind blew back into the room. Balancing precariously she kept a hold of the frame and peered out over the edge, expecting to see the worst.
“Karlie!” Raphael shouted. He was swaying back and forth, his fingers solidly gripping a metal bar that seemed to wrap around the building. It was six inches or so below the window ledge. “Can I get a hand?” he asked, his smile completely at odds with his predicament.
She reached down, and they clasped forearms. Summoning all the strength she possessed, Karlie hauled him up until he could reach the frame she was using for support, at which point he hauled himself inside quickly.
“Wow,” he said, lying on the flat of his back amidst the shattered furniture and pieces of glass. She laid her head on his chest, arms wrapped around him as best she could.
“What was that?” she asked softly.
“What was what?” He sat up, looking at her confused.
“That... thing,” she said with a wave of her hand at the open window. “It wasn’t you that went out the window.”
“Oh, that,” he said as it dawned on him what she was looking for.
“Yes, that,” she confirmed, rolling her eyes at him.
“That,” he said as a noise sounded from behind them.
She turned and saw Vincent, struggling to get to his feet. A cry escaped her lips, but Raphael was already moving past her.
“That,” he grunted again, delivering a vicious left jab to Vincent’s jaw. “Was the result of a lot”—right hook to the orbital bone—“of specialized training.”
She watched as he blocked the feeble attack from the other shifter, who was only able to use one arm it seemed. V
incent’s nose was bleeding profusely and he spat out of a tooth as Raphael landed another solid blow.
“Basically,” he continued talking as he inflicted blow after blow upon the dazed shifter. “I halt the change part-way. It’s tough, and takes a ton of mental and physical energy. Once I finish with this,” he said, driving a fist as hard as steel into Vincent’s gut, “I’m probably going to want to eat a huge pile of meat, and then sleep for twelve hours.
He chopped low at Vincent’s leg, and as it wobbled and gave way. Raphael cupped his hand, wrapping it around the other man’s head, and dropped to his knee, slamming his fist toward the floor as hard as he could.
Vincent’s head made an odd plopping noise as it hit the ground, and the other shifter jerked once, then lay still.
“We should go,” he said.
“Agreed.” She looked at the destroyed room. “How are you going to handle all this? And pay for all the damage? There’s a body out there somewhere,” she said, pointing out the broken window.
“Money’s not a problem,” he said firmly. “As for the rest, we’ll explain it was shifter business. The police don’t like it, but the law allows us to handle our own problems as long as we pay for it all.”
She shook her head. “No it doesn’t. I would know of that!”
He nodded tiredly. “Yes, it does. It’s not widely publicized, but I’ve had to use the clause in the law before. It will be fine, trust me. I just need to speak to our friend at the front desk.”
***
He was right. It did work. Apparently when the shifters had first outed themselves to the government, they had set up laws and protections to ensure that situations like this could continue to be handled internally within the shifter world.
“Unbelievable,” she said as they boarded their flight some hours later.
“What is?” he asked. Raphael had slept ever since they cleared security at the airport, falling almost instantly into a deep, tranquil state.