by RJ Blain
Even if they had been found, the poison needed to be renewed; it lost its potency within a week, and I hadn’t worked with them since my encounter with Nate. I’d been too busy marching my ass across what was left of Florida.
Most days, I resented not knowing what type of shifter I was, but when I needed to make an escape by foot, I appreciated my stamina, something mystics and other non-shifters lacked.
I dug through my satchel, pulled out my tattoo kit, and checked it over. Everything looked as I had left it. I rearranged everything in the box, hid the bundle of needles in the lining, and put a well-worn calligraphy nib in its slot. There was little difference between the tattooing ink I used and ink meant for paper, and I could disguise my ointment as a cleaner for the nib.
I even had paper in my satchel, which supported the box’s purpose.
Satisfied with my precautions, I searched the room for my clothes without finding them. My cheek twitched, and I searched the room a second time.
Still no clothes.
“I know a dead man, and his name is Todd,” I muttered, heading for the door. “Dead Todd, dead Todd, where are you?”
The door opened before I reached it. “You called?”
I really wanted to wipe the smug look off Todd’s face. “I seem to have misplaced my clothes.”
“I had them destroyed. I’m pretty sure they were infested with fleas.”
Fleas were a possibility, which brought me to a full halt. I checked my arms for the tell-tale sign of bites. “I seem to have escaped from the fleas unscathed.”
“Divine intervention.”
I arched a brow, crossed my arms over my chest, and waited, tapping my foot.
“It was the only thing I had in your size that fit.”
“Why do you have lingerie in my size, Todd? Female equine shifters are usually at least four or five sizes larger than me. Do you have a pony in the wings you haven’t told anyone about? You’re a terrible liar. Real clothes, Todd. Where are they?”
“If I said they were in my room, would you follow me?”
“No.”
“But I bought two boxes of condoms just for you.”
I leaned through the doorway and checked both ways down the hall. Several doors down, a few other women watched with interest. Ah-ha. He really wanted everyone to believe we were sleeping together. Was it part of his plans for the upcoming banquet? “Do they even make them large enough to fit a stallion?”
“I had to go to three pharmacies, Jesse. Three of them. I’m not convinced they’ll fit, but I’m willing to give it a try.”
“No condoms, no ride.” There was no way I was going to end up one of his broodmares. If he kept bothering me about it, maybe I’d demand he shift, tack him up, and use him to run errands over the next week. It’d definitely be a ride, but not the one he was hoping for.
Todd’s proposition reminded me it’d been months since I’d found a non-shifter male worth sleeping with, and if I could ensure I’d be able to walk away without being harnessed to the stallion, maybe I’d enjoy his company.
Maybe if our expectations were clear, the arrangement wouldn’t blow up in my face.
Who was I kidding? It’d blow up in my face, which was the exact reason I avoided shifter males. Was a night with a premier stallion worth the headache sleeping with him would inevitably cause?
“I bought two whole boxes, Jesse.”
“Don’t you have other mares waiting for you to stud for them? I need clothes, Todd, not excuses.”
“You smacked my face with a sword in front of all my mares. They’re waiting for me to service you first. That’s how it works. The current favored mare gets the stallion first when he’s fresh. Today, that’s you. It doesn’t mean you are the lead mare of my herd. It just means you earned the honor of my company first. Marie’s my lead mare. Remember her?”
What had I done to deserve Todd at his worst? While I did remember Marie, his legal wife, lead lady of his herd, and the woman who held the vast majority of Todd’s affections, I didn’t want to be her—or have first crack at her stallion.
I also didn’t want to be serviced first. When I found a man, I wanted to be his one and only. Sighing, I shook my head. “We need to talk.”
Todd smirked. “Your room or mine?”
I inhaled. I exhaled. I inhaled and exhaled so many times the watching mares down the hall likely believed I was about to blow a gasket in my head. “Whichever is expected.”
Instead of answering me, Todd grabbed me by the waist, tossed me over his shoulder, and carried me out of my room. Pounding on his back and snarling curses earned me a throaty laugh. He didn’t take me far; his room, apparently, was one door down from mine, and he kicked the door closed behind him before setting me on my feet.
Leaning to me, he whispered, “Normally, I’d toss you on the bed and take you for a ride right now, but we’ll just let them think that’s what’s going on. Of course, we’ll have to do something. Sensitive noses and all. A little of your sweat and a little of mine should suffice.” Todd flicked my nose with his finger. “Your expression is worth every single penny I’m spending on your new wardrobe, Jesse. Every last penny.”
I should have picked my jaw up off the floor, but I gaped at him, trying to come to terms with the twisted chain of events resulting in me wearing lingerie in Todd’s bedroom.
“My room is soundproofed. Some of my mares become rather embarrassed when others can hear them squeal when I mount them.”
“How considerate of you.”
“I try. It’s hard with so many to please. To business. We must maintain appearances. If you won’t let me take you for a ride you’ll never forget, we’ll have to mingle our scents somehow. What do you suggest?”
Sometimes I really hated shifters and their sensitive noses. One day I’d hate my sensitive nose, too, but until then, I had to trust Todd’s sense of smell over mine. There was at least one thing I could rely on.
When mares were in heat, stallions were always turned on and ready to go. No matter what we did, others would smell him on me and assume the worst. I sighed and mulled over my options, settling on wrestling to get the appropriate amount of sweat and physical contact needed to trick Todd’s herd. At least I could get some combat practice with a man far larger and stronger than me while living up to a bargain I never should have made in the first place. “Wrestling.”
“I like it. I’ll even be a gentlemen and let you take the offensive first.”
I planted my foot in his face, laughed, and ran for it, counting on offending him so much he’d forget he wanted to have sex with me.
Chapter Five
Todd won, and I hated him for it.
While he, much to his disappointment, didn’t get to use a single one of his condoms, he chased me around his room, wrestled me down, and kept me pinned for well over an hour. I clawed, kicked, and bit in my effort to secure freedom and victory, but the instant he got his hands on me, I knew I had lost.
My lingerie’s days were done, and scraps of lace clung to me, doing absolutely nothing to preserve my dignity. Chuckling, Todd tossed me onto his bed, where I landed in a sprawl, a tired groan slipping out of me.
“I wish you were making those noises because I’d mounted you so many times.”
Damned stallions. I grabbed his blanket, threw it over me, and went limp. “Couldn’t you at least pretend you’re tired?”
“It was a good romp. I’ll take you back to your room in a few minutes. If you need me, I’ll be in the bathroom.”
Instead of answering him properly, I grunted. I had a pretty good idea of what he’d be doing in the bathroom, and I refused to feel a single iota of guilt for his discomfort. I hadn’t gotten any, and neither had he. It wasn’t my fault stallions were sex fiends. He’d survive.
I wouldn’t, not in a herd. If he dragged me into the magic binding his mares to him, I’d have to find another shifter male who could challenge Todd for me so I could make my escape without violating
herd law. As far as I knew, the magic wouldn’t release its hold on me otherwise. Mares caught in the herd bonds couldn’t escape, nor could they willfully harm their stallion.
Equine mares allowed a stallion to mount them knowing they’d be bound to him. They consented to it, desired it, and looked forward to the day a stallion claimed them. Unlike me, they craved the unity and protection a herd offered them. The herd bond magic also helped to ensure foals.
Thanks to that magic, mares were almost as bad as stallions during the breeding season.
Next time Todd offered me a job, I’d say no. No amount of money was worth dealing with herd politics, which boiled down to who was carrying a foal and who wasn’t. Even if I were an equine, until I shifted, I was likely infertile, and thanks to the practice fight in the corral, every mare knew I wasn’t an equine or capable of carrying a child.
At least Todd wasn’t a wolf. Wolf males were worse. Once a wolf decided on a mate, he would pursue her to his dying day and kill anyone in his way until he bit her and made her his. There were only a few laws justifying murder, and a woman hunted by a wolf could use lethal force to get rid of him if necessary.
As far as I knew, nothing broke the bond between a wolf and his mate except death, and unlike with equines, the male wolf decided who he wanted to bite without so much as a please or thank you. A smart wolf kept his teeth to himself until he convinced his prospective mate she wanted him—or he mated with another wolf.
Mad wolves bit as many women as they could, forming a harem pack of unwilling, captive women. Fortunately, few wolves had enough magic to hold more than one mate, but those who did made everyone fear the entire species.
With my luck, I’d end up a wolf, and when my shifter magic finally took root, I’d be looking for a male to bite—or bite me. Male wolves tended to have the worst reputation. Did female wolves bite men against their will, too?
Why couldn’t I have been born a mystic instead? Mystics didn’t have to worry about their species. They had to play it safe around certain shifters, too, but they had an easier time of it.
They didn’t have a second set of instincts dictating their decisions or their future.
To make matters worse, I’d be attending a banquet designed to match shifters with potential partners. If Todd was right, there was a chance someone from the Blade Clan would be in attendance. There were numerous weapon clans living within the eastern mountains, and every last one of them had one or more Starfall stones. If someone wanted to cripple the clans, stealing their ability to imbue their weapons with magic would do the trick.
I really wanted to scream my frustration, but I clamped my teeth together and kept quiet.
It wasn’t anyone’s fault I was a chicken shit and didn’t want the weapon clans knowing I lived. It wasn’t Todd’s fault I had run away, ashamed of what I had chosen to become. When I was honest with myself, I often enjoyed being a woman.
Maybe I had made a lot of mistakes, but I had survived. If I had become a man, I’d still be living high in the mountains, learning to fight to protect the clan’s Starfall stone. I would have had a bride, and the instant she had given birth to a clan child, she would have been freed from her obligation to remain with the Blade Clan.
Except, in my case, she wouldn’t have been. I hadn’t met her, but I remembered. My assigned bride had been a tigress of some sort, and she would have been stuck with me for life. Too many circumstances surrounded the bride chosen for me and the day I had fled rather than face my shame over becoming a woman instead of a man.
I hoped by the time I discovered my inner beast, I’d no longer be ashamed of who and what I was.
In a way, it was a good thing I’d become a woman; no one deserved to be forced to stay with me every day for the rest of their life. It was tough enough being me. I couldn’t imagine someone else having to put up with me, too.
Maybe one day, I would stop seeing my choice as a mistake and begin viewing it as freedom. As a girl, I had made my home among mercenaries, sometimes masquerading as someone’s child for the sake of appearances while providing another blade when the going got tough. I had assassinated my first man by age eleven. By thirteen, I had built a reputation among other mercenaries as a bodyguard, using the name I would have chosen for myself had I remained with my clan.
In truth, I had gained far more than I had lost with my decision to become a woman.
The soft patter of feet on hardwood warned me Todd had finished in the bathroom.
“If you fall asleep in my bed, I’ll have to carry you to your room like you’re a pampered little princess.” The stallion chuckled, and the bed shifted as his weight settled on it. “That said, such things are expected when I visit my favored mare. You can wear my bathrobe. I’m afraid I ruined your pretty clothing. A pity. You made it lovely.”
“You’re hopeless. You still owe me lunch.”
“It’ll be in your room. Cleo informed me my kitchen was not stocked for a predator, lectured me for an hour while you were napping off his healing work, and robbed me blind to buy groceries. As I’m so generous, meals are included as part of your rent.”
There was only one explanation for Todd’s generosity; he didn’t think I could afford what his mystic had purchased. “What did he do? Buy the entire store?”
“I’m pretty sure he’s just using you as an excuse to restock the kitchen for the mares in foal. I don’t mind. It’s my job to feed everyone under my roof anyway. It’s a good thing I’m a guild master. Otherwise, I’m not sure how I’d be able to afford to keep my herd. Mares eat a lot.”
Ah-ha. Herd politics and traditions, elements of equine society I hadn’t considered, factored into Todd’s decision to offer meals along with a place to stay. Still, I’d take advantage of the opportunity. I could eat a lot, and every time I could, I gorged. Sometimes, I went stretches for up to a week without having an opportunity to eat anything at all, and I made up for it whenever I could. Without fail, after a post-fast binge, I’d sleep like the dead for at least twelve hours.
I’d only gone a few days without a solid meal, but I’d likely sleep a lot anyway. “Don’t underestimate my appetite. You’ll regret your decision within a week.”
“Cleo may have mentioned something along those lines. Up, up. I’ve a lot of mares to grace with my presence tonight, unless you want to change your mind and treat me to a ride.”
“Pass.”
“Pity. Can’t say I didn’t try.”
True to his word, Todd had a bathrobe, and I snatched it out of his hand and wiggled my way into it, removing the torn bits of fabric still clinging to me. “I’m sure the next mare will appreciate your frustration. You do need to make sure you have a lot of little foals born next year.”
“I can’t help it I’m a stallion.”
“I can’t sleep with you, Todd. You’re a gorgeous man, and you have good reason to take pride in your foals, but we’re not a good match.”
“You’re so honest. It’s refreshing.” Todd linked his arm with mine. “Now, it’s time for me to escort you back to your room. For the sake of my pride, at least pretend you’re having a difficult time walking.”
“With how sore and tired I am, I won’t be pretending,” I muttered.
He laughed, left me at the door of my room, and stalked towards his mares, who watched with interest from their rooms.
I counted my blessings I wasn’t one of them.
Cleo brought a feast, and for several long moments, I gaped at the selection of meats, vegetables, and cheeses. It took over most of the dresser, requiring me to move my sword to the bed to make room for everything. “Holy hell, Cleo. There’s enough for ten people here.”
“Mercenaries. I’ve never met worse foragers. Your lot will eat whatever crosses your path, even if it isn’t good for you. I have brought a variety suitable for omnivores and carnivores. Eat what appeals to you. Leave what doesn’t. I will evaluate your preferences and monitor your body while you eat, as well as after. That’ll hel
p me pinpoint a more specific species category. I won’t be able to give you the exact species, of course, but I can likely estimate a broad species group. That’ll help you prepare for your first shift. Shall we begin?”
I eyed the plates of food and licked my lips. “You really just want me to eat everything I want?”
“Exactly. If you like it, eat it. If you’re trying something new, tell me you’ve never had it before.”
“You’re young for a herd mystic. You have to be good if Todd trusts you.” While there was a clean plate ready for me, I looked over the offerings, at a loss where to begin.
As though expecting a feeding frenzy worthy of a shark, someone had cut the food into pieces so all I had to do was grab a fork and get to work. I skewered the closest piece of meat and popped it in my mouth.
After a month of Florida and its endless seafood, the beef melted in my mouth. The touch of salt and hint of blood made me want to ooze to the floor and savor every single nibble of it.
“I’m sixteen. My talents woke when I was five. Adrian and I trained together, so when he underwent his second shift, I took over. Worked well, since I’ll never lead a herd and was about to be evicted from my mother’s. I cook for the herd, too. Keeps me busy.”
“You made all this?”
“Every last bit of it.”
I couldn’t remember the last time someone had cooked just for me. The equines wouldn’t eat most of the food spread across the dresser. The more adventurous ones would try a bite or two of meat on a dare, but they wouldn’t seek it out by choice. After a fast, I could eat far more than a mystic, but the amount of food Cleo had prepared would probably defeat me.
The thought of wasting even a single bite bothered me so much I steeled myself for the challenge and went to work.
“Traditionally, even mercenaries use these fancy things called plates.” Cleo chuckled, pointing at the empty plate I refused to use.
“Adds an unnecessary step. If I need a plate, I’ll use a plate.”