by Tara West
Tor let out a low whistle. “Great Ancients.”
Sniffing the paper towel again, Van closed his eyes.
“I also heard them talking about sex slavery,” she said.
Van’s eyes shot open. “What do you think the trackers here do? They work the border, apprehending pimps and rescuing slaves.”
“But there’s a new ring, and they haven’t been able to apprehend their leaders.” Tor said. “Now we know why.”
“She said she’s been on Earth for four hundred years.” Annie wrapped her arms around herself and scanned the horizon. She could hear the Coyotechasers inside the house, eating dinner, and she wanted to join them. She felt too exposed outside, as if the demon was nearby, watching her. “I don’t understand why she’d want me. My fathers told me demons were afraid of Amaroki.”
Tor thoughtfully rubbed his chin. “The Ancients visited you?”
“The other night.” She turned toward the direction of the canyon, longing to be with her fathers once more. “They took me on a run.”
He frowned. “There will be no more running, Annie.”
She hung her head. “I understand.” But she was far from happy. Her life was going in the wrong direction, and she had no control over it. She felt like she was stuck in a speeding car with faulty brakes, and she’d crash any moment.
“Let’s get inside.” Tor held out a hand to her. “I need to consult with Raz. She knows more about demons than I do.”
She took his hand, comforted by his strength. He wasn’t her father, but he made a good surrogate. Van flanked her other side, sweeping the horizon as they walked up the porch steps.
She blinked up at Tor when they reached the porch. “Maybe it’s best if I go back to Alaska.”
His features seemed to melt. “Either that or bond with your mates.”
She jerked away and stepped back. “I’m not bonding with them.” Was he crazy? Had he forgotten the way Vidar had treated her? And Magnus’s cowardly inaction?
Tor shrugged, his cheeks coloring. “They would keep you safe.”
She jerked open the screen door. “I seriously doubt that.” She walked into the front room with a heavy heart. Tor was trying to shove her off on her mates. Clearly she was a burden. Marching straight to her bedroom, she wiped away hot tears and flopped on her bed, angry with herself for crying. Hell, she didn’t even know why she was crying. She’d been rejected by her parents. Tor’s rejection shouldn’t have been any different. So why did it feel like he’d wedged a knife in her chest?
AFTER MAKING SURE HIS father had eaten his dinner, Roy hung up with Nurse Gloria. He swore under his breath when he saw Redhead’s truck on the side of the road. It was a beautiful truck, a classic Ford, probably a ’72, the kind Roy could only dream of when half his salary went to his dad’s care. It was cherry red, with orange flames going down the sides and monster tires. The redhead who’d almost run him off the road leaned against the truck while her friend struggled with a flat tire. That truck had to have cost a bit of money to restore, yet the driver didn’t know how to change a flat? When the redhead flagged him down, he knew he should’ve kept driving, but he wanted to know if she’d been drinking. If so, he was calling the sheriff.
As he got out of the truck, he smelled an odd, cloying perfume, like a mixture of strange spices and lavender. His dick hardened as he inhaled again. How the hell did perfume do that? His nostrils flared when he got a good look at the woman leaning against the tailgate of her truck. She wore a tight, knit dress and knee-high boots that exposed her mile-long legs and tempting curves.
She was probably a good ten years older than him, but Roy preferred older women. Not that he intended to try anything. The big bald black dude changing the tire was probably her boyfriend, and she drove like a crazy woman. He had enough problems in his life. He didn’t need one more. But something about her drew him to her like a moth to flame. Was it her large, hazel eyes? Those full tits? Roy couldn’t help but stare, she was so damn pretty.
“Thank you for stopping.” She batted her lashes and stuck out her chest, displaying her cleavage like a peacock showing off his feathers.
Alarm bells went off in Roy’s head. Instinct told him to run and run fast, but curiosity and something he couldn’t define propelled his feet forward. It was as if she held him in a trance.
He jutted a shaky finger at her chest. “You’re the woman who almost ran us off the road.”
“I know, and I’m sorry.” Her plump, cherry red bottom lip made him think of kissing her. “I don’t normally drive so crazy. Our tire blew out, and I lost control. We ended up in a ditch.”
Roy was hit with another burst of that tempting perfume and stepped back when she stepped forward. “You think I’m a goddamn idiot?”
“What?” Her eyes bulged. “No.”
Her companion rose, clutching the tire iron. The tire was fixed, so why had she flagged him down?
He rested a hand on his holster. “You drove down the road on all four tires.”
She shared a confused look with her companion. “You’re mistaken.”
“No.” He braced his feet apart and squared his shoulders. “You are, if you think I’d fall for this crap.”
“I’m telling the truth.” She placed a hand over her heart, a pained look in her eyes as if Roy had attacked her with a verbal spear. “I swear.”
Roy wasn’t buying her charade, but even though he knew she was trying to deceive him, he had this overwhelming desire to kiss her. What the hell was wrong with him? The perfume smell grew stronger, ensnaring his senses like he was being wrapped in invisible tentacles.
“I’m calling the sheriff.” He flashed his gun. “No funny business. I’m a federal agent.” He reached for his phone.
“Roy, please.” She edged closer to him, preceded by that alluring perfume. “We can work this out.”
He clutched the phone like a lifeline, momentarily disoriented, unable to remember if he’d dialed the sheriff or not. “How do you know my name?”
She licked her lower lip and brushed a hand across the swell of her breast. “I overheard you and the pretty girl named Annie talking at the bar.”
He was momentarily mesmerized by the sight of her nipples poking through the thin material of her dress and the fragrance that continued to slither around his senses like a sensual serpent. The alarm bells faded, replaced by an overpowering surge of lust. He blinked, shaking the fog from his head. At some point, his phone slipped from his fingers.
“You followed us from the bar?”
“We were on our way home, too.” She let out a sultry laugh, one that made his balls tighten in anticipation. “It’s a small town, Roy. People are bound to meet up in a few different places.”
She nodded at the bald black man, whose grip on the tire iron was unnerving. Instinct told Roy he was in grave danger.
“I never said you could use my first name. It’s Agent Miller to you.”
“Very well, Agent Miller.” She advanced toward him while unbuttoning the top of her dress, allowing him a glimpse of ample cleavage. “Let’s say we forget about this whole thing.”
When she reached for him, he stumbled back, nearly tripping over his own feet. He wanted her like he’d never wanted a woman before, but she was dangerous. Wasn’t she? “Don’t touch me!” Roy saw a flash of red in her eyes as she lunged for him. He was barely aware of pulling the trigger of his gun, the ricochet sounding off. He looked into her wide, frightened eyes and then saw the crimson bulls-eye blooming on her abdomen.
Dear god, what had he done?
“You stupid human!” she screeched, her eyes shifting to glowing crimson. “This was my favorite body!”
What the fuck was she?
With a roar, she launched at him even as he fired another shot.
When she encircled his neck with bloody fingers, he tried to fight her off, but something odd happened. His vision dimmed, and he was sinking into his body as if his soul was shrinking. He fell into a p
it so dark, he couldn’t see his hands in front of his face. Surrounded by gloom and depression so overpowering he wanted to die, he curled into himself and let out a strangled sob.
Dear God, save me.
Chapter Seven
BALBAN FLEXED HER FINGERS and opened her eyes. Changing bodies was such a nuisance. So many different parts to learn, not to mention new identities and all the bothersome relations and health problems that came with new skins. Though Balban was a succubus, stealing bodies wasn’t her favorite pleasure. She preferred sex and drugs to swapping skins.
This one came with awkward dangly parts, and Balban identified as a woman, preferring large, smooth tits to a hairy chest. She had been using the pretty redhead for well over three years, and had had many satisfactory sexual partners with such a fine figure. Balban was sad the man-boy had made her lose such a valuable human skin. She blinked up at the red eyes of her companion.
“Balban?” Aosoth asked. “Is it you?”
“Of course it’s me,” she snapped. “You idiot.”
Aosoth crossed meaty arms over a broad chest, giving her a derisive look. “Damn.”
After Aosoth helped her sit, she scowled at her flat chest. “I don’t like male bodies.”
“I liked your other body better, too,” Aosoth said.
Of course he had. Aosoth had made her generous cleavage his personal playground, probing it with his tongue and dick. Now he would have to settle for male on male sex unless he rejected her as a lover. She couldn’t risk that happening. He had been her best lover since she lost Sitri. He was nothing compared to Sitri, but he had been gone a century, cursed to hell by cruel shifters who’d cut his life on Earth too short.
Somewhere deep in the pit of her new body, she thought she heard the sounds of a human demanding to be let out. She ignored it. Discarded spirits usually gave up the fight after a few days.
She frowned. “I will have to steal a slave.”
“Good.” He helped her stand. “I don’t think I could fuck you like this.”
Balban laughed. “Everyone knows you’ll fuck anything.” She scanned the agent’s memories for useful information, quite pleased and somewhat terrified with what she saw. Her jaw dropped when she realized this human knew the wolf shifters. Not only did he know what they were, he knew their secrets.
“What is it?” Aosoth asked.
“This agent’s memories are interesting.” She thoughtfully rubbed her jaw. “The pretty virgin is a shifter. Her mother was human.”
Aosoth’s eyes widened. “I thought you said shifters didn’t mate with humans.”
“I did,” Balban snarled. “Her fathers are their gods.” The same gods, she wanted to add, who’d killed her beloved Sitri. “They bred with humans to create fresh blood.”
“So the virgin is a wolf?” He stepped back, his muscular arms visibly shaking. “Then we shouldn’t pursue her.”
“Of course we should.” Balban laughed as a plan formulated in her mind that involved infiltrating the shifter race and finally enacting revenge for Sitri’s demise.
“But our magic can’t penetrate their defenses.” Aosoth threw the tire iron, sweat dripping down his brow. “We have no way of defeating them.”
“We do now.” She rubbed her hands together. “I know their kryptonite.”
Red flashed in his eyes. “What is it?”
“Amethysts.”
He scratched his head. “Amethysts? The gemstones?”
“Exactly. They are used to prevent shifting. This human has them in case of an emergency.”
Balban stumbled to the human’s truck on shaky legs, then lifted the backseat. Beneath it was a long black box titled “emergency supplies.” Maniacal laughter rose in her throat when she saw what was inside it: a long black dart gun and several amethyst-tipped darts, plus several handcuffs with locks on the cuffs and little amethysts embedded in the black leather. There was also a vial of sleeping medicine, the kind that could knock out an elephant, and enough weapons to take down several packs of shifters.
Why would the human need these when he was friends with the shifter race? Then she uncovered in his memories a juicy bit of information. The shifters were at war with one another because the old chieftain had gone mad. Balban would use their inner turmoil to her advantage, stealing the girl while they were distracted. Not only would she claim this virgin’s blood, she would take her body and become a shifter succubus. With such power Balban could infiltrate the shifters and teach other demons how to do the same, taking over their race so they no longer posed a threat to demons. Most importantly, she would enact her revenge on this she-wolf’s fathers for killing her beloved, for after she stole this she-wolf’s body, she would send her soul to the abyss, a cold void of loneliness and pain, not hot like hell but equally maddening.
A strange howl sounded in the distance, followed by another, and another, each one louder than the last, indicating whatever was out there was closing in on them.
Aosoth froze. “What is that?”
“Sounds like a wolf. We need to go.”
She searched the agent’s memories, dismayed when she saw images of a mutant wolf who ate humans.
“But the body,” Aosoth cried.
“Leave it.” Jumping in the agent’s truck, she tore off down the road, not bothering to see if Aosoth had followed her. Only when his truck caught up to hers did she heave a sigh of relief.
Mutant wolves? Ancients mating with humans? What was happening to the shifter race? This madness was almost enough to make her give up on the delicious virgin. Almost.
WITH MOONLIGHT LIGHTING their way, Annie got out of Cesar Coyotechasers’ truck and followed him, his brother Ben, and Tor along the side of the dirt road. Even though the sun had set, it was still too hot for her liking. Her feet were sweating in her borrowed boots and even more sweat dripped down her cleavage. About twenty yards from the truck was the drape, presumably covering the demon who’d wanted to kidnap Annie. If this demon was dead, was she safe, or did that mean the other one would pursue her?
Tor watched the road while Cesar uncovered the body with a stony face. Rigor mortis had already set in, and the stink of decay was strong as flies buzzed around the corpse.
“Annie,” he asked, “is this her?”
Releasing a shaky breath, she scanned the familiar thick band of red hair and knit dress with the matching belt. She looked pretty much the same, except for the pool of blood under her back, soaking into the dirt.
“Yes.” Annie clutched her gut when the smell of death hit her like a brick to the head. “What happened?”
“Bullet wound. We found her dead at the side of the road.”
Annie didn’t know if she should feel relief or shock that Balban was dead. “Who killed her?”
Cesar pulled the blanket back over the body. “We’re not sure.”
“Did you call Roy?” Annie asked.
“Yes. He said to leave the body until he could send reinforcements. Said he’s handling something bigger at the moment.”
Weird. She waved at the corpse. “What could be bigger than this?”
Cesar shrugged. “Probably that chucacabra.”
She cringed and hoped the strange animal hadn’t killed any more humans.
Cesar’s tracker brother, Ben, knelt beside the body, his nostrils flaring. “You sure she was a demon, Annie?”
She vehemently nodded. “I saw her eyes. I heard her thoughts. Why?”
He stared at the corpse. “She smells entirely human.”
“What do demons smell like?” she asked.
“Like dark magic.”
Annie didn’t remember any dark magic, just awfully strong perfume.
She knelt next to the body, noting how that the overpowering fragrance was gone. “Huh. I don’t smell the lavender anymore.” But she did smell Roy. She sniffed her shirt, which had his scent on it, too. Was Roy’s smell coming from her?
Ben arched a brow. “She smelled like lavender?”
/> “Yes.” Annie made a face. “It was so strong, I wanted to puke.”
Ben looked at Cesar. “Dark magic usually smells like old blood.”
Tor cleared his throat. “The perfume is meant to lure her victims.”
Ben blinked at him. “What does that mean?”
Tor crossed his arms, his eyes shifting from yellow to brown. “It means she was most likely a succubus.”
“Any idea why the scent would be gone?” Cesar asked.
Tor gestured at the ground. “The demon has gone back to her pit.”
Annie‘s throat suddenly felt as parched as the Sahara Desert. “What about the other demon? The big, bald guy?”
“Our trackers are looking for him,” Cesar answered, looking away.
She slowly stood, clenching her fists. “There’s something you’re not telling me.”
“We scented Roy on her. His smell was stronger earlier, but it’s fading,” Cesar said. “The tire tracks next to her body match his truck.”
Roy had been here? These demons could’ve killed him. Bile rose in the back of her throat. “D-did you ask him what happened?”
“Yeah,” Cesar answered. “He said they waved him down because they had a flat tire, but when he stopped, she tried to seduce him, so he got back in his truck.”
“So he didn’t see who killed her?” Cesar crossed his arms, looking out across the horizon at the moon as it dipped behind the clouds.
Tor dragged a hand through his peppered hair with a growl. “None of this makes sense.”
“Maybe the two demons had a fight,” Ben said.
Tor said, “Why would he leave the evidence?”
“I don’t know.” Cesar straightened. “They shouldn’t have been on tribal land to begin with.”
Tor scowled. “No, they shouldn’t. Something definitely isn’t adding up.”
“What should we do with the body?” Cesar asked him.
Annie wondered why Cesar kept looking to Tor for advice. Wasn’t Cesar the chieftain of the Texas tribe? Shouldn’t he have been making the decisions? This didn’t bode well for the Texas tribe if none of their leaders had a backbone. Or maybe Cesar relied on Tor’s advice because he was older.