Shifter Wars Complete Series

by Sarah J. Stone

  "Well, you don't have to be an asshole about it."

  I rolled my eyes.

  Damn, this girl really needs her self-esteem reinforced.

  "Fine," I said. "You did better than you did for your first few shots, I'll give you that. At least you stopped screaming when you fired. That's something."

  I collected the guns and brought them back to Smith.

  "I can't believe you can carry these in the city," she said. "I knew this one kid, this human guy, who got in big trouble for carrying around a cap gun or something."

  "That's being in the Sapiens for you," I said. "We don't follow human rules. Or most of the shifter ones either."

  "So, you just get to solve the cases however you want?" she asked.

  "We get certain leeway with how we do things," I said, leading her back to the lobby of HQ. "Keeping the peace between all these fucking species who all are itching for the first chance to fight with whatever animals are nearby, that's what's important."

  We headed back to my apartment, and as we stepped through the front door, my second phone—the one I used in the Thrasher Clan—buzzed on the kitchen table.

  "What's that?" Jane asked.

  I didn't feel like explaining, so I just grabbed the phone and checked it without saying a word to Jane.

  - Meeting at 7. Usual place. Everyone.

  Shit.

  Every now and then the Thrasher Clan liked to have these little check-in meetings to make sure that things were going according to plan. Most of them were just about making sure targets were being hit with drug and gun distribution preparation, but after the events of last night, who knows what the subject of this one would be.

  And then there was the matter of just what I'd do with Jane.

  "Listen up," I said, tossing the phone back onto the table. "I've got work to do tonight."

  "Oh, okay," she said. "What're we doing?"

  "I said I, not we. You're going to stay home like a good girl and not leave the apartment for anything. And I mean anything. And no phones, no internet, no nothing. I don't want anyone possibly finding out that you're here. As far as the rest of the world is concerned, you don't exist."

  "Are you serious?" she asked, taking on that bratty tone that was already one of my least favorite sounds. "You want me to just sit around doing nothing until this case is cracked?"

  "That's the plan," I said. "You're gonna stay as far out of the way as possible until I need your witness testimony to put this dragon asshole away. Until then, you're a little birdie in a cage."

  "This is so boring!" she shouted, crossing her arms.

  "I don't care what you think it is; it's the safest place for you to be right now." I strode over to her and held out my hand. "Phone."

  "No way! What if my parents need to contact me or something?"

  "Then they'll do it through Sapien HQ, just like any other good shifter."

  She narrowed her eyes at me, but seemed to understand that she wasn't getting out of this one. Shoving her hand into her pocket, she pulled out her phone and slapped it into my hand. "Don't go looking through that," she said. "I have private pictures on there."

  I couldn't help but roll my eyes.

  "As much fun as going through some college brat's phone sounds, I'll do my best to respect your privacy."

  Jane didn't appear to be too amused by my sarcasm. "Can you at least buy some food that's not raw meat?" she asked.

  "Fine," I said, checking my phone again and seeing that I had a little time. "Anything else the princess needs?"

  "My phone would be nice," she said.

  "Not gonna happen."

  I headed down to the grocery store on the block and picked up fruits, vegetables, and some lean meats—shit that I figured a girl like her wouldn't have any problems with. I even decided to be a nice guy and buy some fashion magazines and a few pints of ice cream.

  "This is what you bought?" Jane asked, looking through the bags that I placed on the table when I came back.

  I gritted my teeth. "Problem?"

  "Yeah," she said. "None of this stuff is organic. Did you just buy whatever cheap crap was on the shelves? Do you know what kind of pesticides they put on this stuff?"

  "No, and I don't really care. You live in fucking New York; do you have any idea what kind of shit you're breathing in every time you step outside?"

  "That doesn't mean I want to put any more crap into my body!" Jane said.

  "Just deal with it for tonight, and I'll figure out Her Majesty’s preferred victuals tomorrow."

  "Fine," she said.

  I got ready for the evening and, once the hour arrived, prepared to take off. Jane spent most of the afternoon listlessly flipping through her fashion magazines and staring off into space. Every now and then, I'd catch her reaching into her pocket for her phone, a worried expression forming on her face as she tried to figure out where it was, then a frustrated one when she realized what was going on. I couldn't help but laugh to myself; taking a phone away from a college girl was like taking the bottle away from a boozehound—they just didn't know what to do with themselves if they didn't have their drug of choice.

  "Okay," I said when the time to leave finally arrived. "I'm outta here. Remember what I said about staying put."

  Jane scrunched up her nose and waved her hand dismissively in the air. Goddamn, she needed some discipline. She was clearly the kind of daddy's girl who was used to getting whatever she wanted. And as I stepped out the door, I remembered just what kind of discipline she was into. My cock got a little hard as I shut the door behind me, my mind filled with the image of my hand coming down hard on that perfect, heart-shaped little ass of hers. Part of me wondered if she was trying to goad me into giving her what it seemed pretty clear that she wanted.

  Focus on the goddamn task at hand, I told myself. This shit's already gone sideways enough already without sex making it even more of a mess.

  I drove my bike down to Fang, the bear bar where everything went down last night. Huge, chrome bikes lined the street in front of the place, and it was clear that some shit was happening. I won't lie—I was a little nervous that I might be the subject of this meeting. After all, if the Thrasher Clan knew there was a witness on the loose—which they almost definitely did—then it was gonna be an APB to find them.

  The front door was closed when I approached it, and I gave it the secret knock.

  "Who the hell is it?" a gruff voice called from inside.

  "Connor," I said. "Let me in, fucker."

  A snort sounded through the door and the lock disengaged with a thunk. I pushed the door open, revealing a bar packed with dozens of bikers, all standing around chatting with one another. The lights of the place were up, and it was clear that this wasn't any kind of social occasion. My mouth felt dry and a beer sounded just right, but I decided to put all that off until this was over with.

  Eyes of the members of the Thrasher Clan fell onto me as I walked through the place, most of them suspicious. The Thrasher Clan had only brought on bears like me in order to help with the drug and gun-running they'd been getting into recently, and most of them sure as hell didn't trust me. And if they were killing bears like my contacts—bears stupid enough to dip into the money—then that suspicion was only going to get worse. Much worse.

  In the crowd, I spotted none other than Wrecking Ball. He wasn't exactly hard to pick out, what with being nearly twice the size of every guy there. He glared at me with those piggy little eyes, clearly still sore about what I'd done to him. It took all the restraint I had not to make a gesture that probably would've resulted in him rushing over to me and trying to squash my head like a grape.

  "Yo, Connor!" a familiar voice called out from somewhere behind me.

  I turned and as was face-to-face was Killian, one of the other freelancers that the Thrashers had brought on. He was a stone wall of a man, with a face as ugly as a pit bull and bulky muscles that made whatever clothes he wore look like they were one bicep flex away from
splitting open. He was a good guy, though, maybe a little unaware of the sort of shit he was getting himself into by joining up with the Thrashers.

  "Killian!" I shouted back, giving the man a quick hug and slap on the back. "Good to see a fuckin' friendly face around here."

  "No kidding," Killian said, looking around at the dozens of hard-ass bikers waiting for the meeting to start. "You heard about the shit that went down last night, right?"

  "A little bit. Someone was snoopin' around or something?"

  I had to be careful about what I said; revealing a detail that I shouldn't have known would've been an easy way to get sniffed out as an undercover agent. Keeping things nice and vague was the way to go.

  "Yup," Killian said. "Fuckin' stupid guards abandoned their posts and some fox slipped into the back room. Saw some shit she wasn't supposed to see."

  "Goddamn," I said, shaking my head. "That ain't good."

  "No kidding," Killian said. "Makes sense that this is an ‘all hands on deck’ kind of thing; some chick starts blabbing to the Sapes, and we're all gonna be in a real fuck of a mess."

  "Yo," I said. "You know anything about this Mallory guy they got heading up these operations? Other than that he's a fuckin' dragon, of course."

  "All I know is that he's a real hardass," Killian said. "But, uh, not in the way us bears are. He's kinda…well, I don't know how else to say it, but he kinda seems like a fuckin' fairy to me."

  I snorted. "Probably not something you want getting out that you said, my man," I said with a smirk.

  "Yeah, probably right," Killian said, looking around furtively to see if anyone was listening in. "But I know I can trust you. You don't strike me as the kinda guy who'd go blabbing shit to anyone he shouldn't."

  If only you knew, dude.

  It was shit like this that made me hate being an undercover agent. Sure, getting into the operations and rooting out the crime from the inside out was like nothing else, and I'd broken open more than a few cases doing it. But every goddamn moment was deception. Usually, you didn't mind that you were screwing people over—they were almost always scum that the city would be happy to have off of the streets—but every now and then you'd meet a guy like Killian. Sure, he was running drugs and weapons, but he was just some bear down on his luck looking to make some cash to get back on his feet. In other circumstances, he might've been on the straight and narrow. But every conversation I had with him was a fucking lie.

  "Anyway," Killian said, "this guy's not the kind to fuck around. I heard about some deal he was supervising a few weeks back, some wolf tried to scam him out of money. Once Mallory pointed out what the fuck was going on, he didn't even give the wolf a chance to make up some bullshit excuse; he just reached into the guy and pulled his guts out like it was nothin'."

  "'Pulled his guts out'?"

  "Yeah," Killian said, "gave him a little jab. Or, what looked like a little jab, I guess. But when a dragon gives you a little jab, it goes right through you."

  "Christ," I said.

  But before either of us could say another word, the back doors of the bar opened. A crew of men stepped through, all bruisers that I recognized as high-ups in the Thrasher Clan. And last, but certainly not least, was Mallory. He strode through the door with a pleased little fuckin' smirk on his pretty face, his blond hair like a woman's. Something about this asshole made me want to rush up there, shift, and tear him to pieces. But that wouldn't exactly help out my long-term plans for this assignment.

  The chatter stopped as soon as Mallory strode into the room and took his place at the front near the bar. He didn't even need to raise a hand or anything; the entire Thrasher Clan was totally cowed by this guy. And I could see why. Even though he didn't exactly look like a bruiser, something about him made it clear that he had power beyond belief. He walked like he owned the joint and like he knew that he could kill any bear in that room if he wanted.

  "Hello, my good Thrashers," he said in his strange, melodic voice. "I see that we're all here—good, good. Now, can any of you tell me why you think that we're having this little impromptu meeting? Hm? Any guesses?"

  There was a silence as the bears around me looked at one another nervously, as though not sure if it was some kind of trick. And I didn't blame them for getting clammed-up. If I knew that getting roasted alive or having my guts pulled out was a consequence for fucking up, I'd keep my mouth shut too.

  "That fuckin' fox!" someone from the crowd shouted out after a few minutes passed.

  A commotion came up from the crowd. Looks like news got around fast.

  Mallory raised a finger in the direction of the bear who spoke.

  "That's right," he said. "That's exactly right. Someone—well, two someones, actually—didn't do their jobs last night, and allowed a fox to sneak in through the back door. And that little fox managed to get away from us. So, as I'm sure you all can guess, we have a little bit of a problem. We've got a major, major operation coming up—the operation that we've all been biding our time for; the operation that, if we pull off, will make the Thrasher Clan the most powerful bears in the city."

  More commotion raised up from the crowd. They were getting antsy.

  "But before we get into all that," Mallory said, tossing his silver hair over his shoulder and waving toward the door that he entered from, "I want to show you all a little something."

  The back doors opened, and from the darkness came another pair of men, these men being led by more members of the Thrasher clan. They were standard-looking bears, both big, bulky, and tattooed, one with a shaved head and the other with a rat's nest of brown hair. Both seemed to have the same pug-ugly face. Even from where I stood I could tell that the men were sweating bullets. I knew right away that these had to be the guards that fucked up last night. The rest of the bears in the crowd made the same realization that I did, and cheers, hoots, and hollers sounded from the men.

  They knew what was coming. And so did I.

  "Bring those boys up here," Mallory said, gesturing toward where he stood.

  Once the two men were brought to Mallory, they looked at the crowd with scared, pleading expressions. They had to know how fucked they were, but it seemed like they thought that maybe, if they could get the crowd on their side, they'd be able to get off with a warning or something.

  Fat fuckin' chance of that.

  "Now," Mallory said, walking in front of the two men. "As I'm sure you all know by now, these are the two bears who utterly failed in their very, very simple job last night. What was the reason why you two had both decided to abandon the door at the same time? One took a piss, and the other went out for a smoke? Was that it? Well, it was something equally stupid to lose one's life over, I know that for sure."

  "As a little motivation to the rest of you, I wanted to let you see what happens when men that I'm so kind to work with screw me over through incompetence. As the bank accounts of all of you show, I'm sure, working with me has certain benefits. But, fucking me over by being goddamned morons, well, that has consequences. As these two are about to find out."

  "Please!" the bald man shouted. "You have to do something! You can't let some fucking dragon come in here and tell us what to do! We're bears, goddamnit! We don't stand for this shit!"

  Boos and jeers sounded from the crowd. I guess loyalty only goes so far when you put enough money on the table.

  "Nice try, friend," Mallory said. "But I'm afraid the damage has already been done. No going back from the shit that you pulled."

  At this, the Thrasher Clan began cheering. The men continued to beg for their lives, their faces turning red as they yelled helplessly at the crowd.

  "Now!" Mallory shouted as he climbed onto the bar. "We see what fate awaits the incompetent!"

  I shifted my weight from one leg to the other and took a slow breath. I knew that whatever Mallory had in mind, it wasn't going to be pretty.

  Mallory closed his eyes and began to shift. After a few moments, his towering form stood looming on the bar,
his head nearly reaching the extremely high ceiling. The crowd somehow managed to get even wilder, and I could tell from the look in Mallory's eyes that he was ready for a show.

  He let out a mighty roar that was so deafening and powerful that I worried the windows of the place might shatter. Then, he raised his foot, positioned it over the first of the two men, and let it drop.

  Splat.

  I winced as his foot came down hard on the squirming form of the guard. The remaining man looked at what his fate was to be and began screaming louder, begging.

  He didn't have time to say much more, however. Seconds later, the other foot dropped.

  I shook my head in disgust. What a way to go.

  Mallory shifted back to his human form, and luckily for me I was far enough back that I didn't see the mess.

  "Someone clean this up!" Mallory shouted. "Now! Keep all this very, very fresh in your mind—we're about to start phase two of this little operation, and I want you all on your best behavior. No more mistakes like this can be made going forward. Now! Enjoy your evening, with my blessing."

  The crowd of bears wasted no time starting toward the bar. But before they could get too far, Mallory raised his hand.

  "And one more thing: It goes without saying, but someone, please, find this fox bitch and kill her. Do whatever you want with her beforehand, I don't care. But I want her head, and I want it within forty-eight hours. Understand?"

  Murmurs sounded from the crowd.

  Shit. The entire pack's gonna be looking for Jane. I'd better get the fuck out of here and make sure she's good.

  But before I could leave, Killian approached me with a beer and a shot. I realized that bolting out of there might look suspicious, so I stayed long enough with him to have the drinks before getting out of there. Back on my bike, I tore down the city streets, weaving in and out of traffic as I rushed to get back to the apartment. I had a bad fucking feeling, and I didn't quite know why.

  I learned the answer as soon as I walked into the apartment.

  Right off the bat, I noticed that it was quiet. Way, way, too fucking quiet.