Warrior

by Holly S. Roberts

  As week after week has passed, things have become exceedingly dicey whenever King’s beast moves to the forefront. That’s when it’s hardest to control Ms. Beast. Our two beasts could settle this matter without the current beating we’re dishing out to each other if we let them. So far that’s been a bust. King likes to kiss and run, in that order.

  With a whoosh of air, I avoid King’s fist and run to the far side of the room, placing one foot at hip level against the wall and flipping my body back and over away from King’s next kick. We’re inside an abandoned dojo that King had cleaned out. It gives us a place to train privately in beast form. King’s been a patient teacher and now that he knows all the moves Boot taught me, he’s impossible to beat. That doesn’t keep me from trying.

  Our other problem is the Federation.

  Something is going on and King’s not talking. This means I won’t like the news. Beck comes to the house each day and updates King on all the king business he needs to hear. I make myself scarce usually cooking or running while Beck is there.

  Today, King was quiet and pensive after Beck’s visit, whereas he usually tells me the happenings in his island domain. Throughout the morning, his moodiness grew, and he refused to open up. It’s the main reason I suggested the dojo.

  My shifts to beast form are far easier now and my control improves daily. Ms. Beast gets the reins when we run, and King promised he would take me out to kill hellhounds in the next few days. Boot’s baby is due at any time and through reading the Shadow Warrior history, I know that a baby Warrior gestation period is only six months due to their rapid growth rate.

  King’s foot takes me in the jaw and I turn, snapping teeth his way. He avoids them without difficulty and tries to grab me in his classic Neanderthal move I no longer fall for. With a growl, I launch myself at him, bringing my right arm up at the same time he lifts his to block.

  I drive my left hand upward and slam my fist into his abdomen and for my efforts take a blinding punch to the side of my head that shakes the cobwebs out. Giving a low growl, I go to my haunches and contemplate throwing up.

  When I open my eyes, King’s large snout is inches away, his dark eyes on mine showing concern. “Sucker,” I say. I use my right arm to swipe his feet from beneath him. He falls and pulls me on top of him in a graceful king-like move. We’re snout to snout, breathing hard, our teeth sharp and deadly.

  The skin on King’s face bulges and a few seconds later he’s human. “We need to talk,” he says inches from my muzzle.

  With that, I seamlessly shift with little pain. I rest my head on King’s chest thankful he’s finally opening up. “I’m not going to like it, am I?”

  “No.”

  I don’t even like the sound of that one word. “You want to do this here or the house?” I ask gently.

  “The house.” He stands, pulling me up with him and not meeting my eyes.

  Oh joy.

  It takes us fifteen minutes to get home. Funny that I’ve claimed it as home. I haven’t had this feeling since my childhood. After the first wave of hellhounds, my college dorm seemed luxurious. The bunk in my quarters at the Federation never felt like home. King’s place holds King and that makes it our couple’s haven. I know it and Ms. Beast knows it. We just need King to fall in line.

  I shifted before jumping on his bike and we’re now showering quickly in separate bathrooms. After our showers, we head to the kitchen nook where most of our serious conversations take place. Over the past weeks, we’ve sat at this table and I’ve relayed the Shadow Warrior history I read long into the night. Today is different without our usual camaraderie.

  “Spit it out,” I tell him once we’re seated.

  He doesn’t waste time. “The president of the Federation wants to speak with you. He’s asking for proof of life.”

  When it comes to the Federation, I feel like a traitor. It’s something I’ve had trouble dealing with and it’s one of two reasons for my late-night studies. The worry over the Federation keeps me awake and reading is the only thing that soothes me. I glance at King and ponder the sudden interest from my boss better known as the president.

  King’s not finished and I think I’ll like his next sentence even less.

  “Their electromagnetic activity has doubled. They’re coming across hellhounds on the outskirts of Washington.”

  This changes things. “For how long?”

  “A month.”

  I’m not sure if I want an honest answer to my next question. “How long have you known?”

  “A month.”

  I stare at the man I love and yes, I used the “L” word. Neither of us has acknowledged our feelings, but we both know what this is. The other reason for my restless sleep is my constant desire for King. It’s there even when he isn’t.

  My eyes grow a little harder. “Did you plan on telling me?”

  “Not unless you asked,” he says with a boyish smile that’s lost on his manly face and not something I’ll fall for anyway.

  “Is there a reason you didn’t tell me?”

  He shrugs. “You worry about it constantly and you needed more time to control your beast. If you were a male, that would be over a year. As you’ve discovered in our history texts, some female Warriors were able to do as you’ve done.” He shrugs again and this time I see so much more in his expression. “I don’t want to lose you.”

  I’ve tried bringing our current non-situation up and he changes the subject, refusing to discuss our relationship. I’m officially done with his attitude, so I’m bringing this out in the open. “If you want me so badly, why don’t you do more than kiss me?”

  The tell-tale signs of his beast show in his eyes. “I touch you every day.”

  “You kiss me, you hold my hand, you beat the shit out of me. I’m talking about sex. Are male Warriors deformed or something?”

  His lips quirk with humor. I saw him naked once and I know there is absolutely nothing wrong downstairs. “I was waiting for you to beg,” he tosses out to irritate me.

  A few seconds pass before I realize he’s joking. I’m done with jokes, evasion, and living a celibate life. “King. Make love to me.” It’s a demand that I could never have made before I discovered my power as a Warrior.

  He takes a few seconds to contemplate my words before answering. “Now?” he asks calmly. “Or would you prefer to be wined and dined first?”

  I may need to kill him. “Now,” I grind out to the most stubborn, sexy man on the planet.

  “You’ve read many of our books. You know what mating means and how it will affect us both. We don’t have the luxury of staying away from my people as our beasts adjust and it won’t be just me. Your beast will behave irrationally if another woman comes near me. Beck and I have discussed it and he’s still unsure if this is wise.”

  I have no problem with the thought of killing Beck and playing with his intestines while doing it.

  Yes, kill.

  Ms. Beast’s killing urge makes me happy today.

  Unfortunately for King, this is the same argument he’s given me for weeks. He respects me. He’d never take advantage of me. Yada yada yada. He drives me insane and I want to kill him half the time. I look into his eyes, refusing to turn away. “I love you,” I say simply.

  I’m in his arms before I realize he’s moved. His lips, that I’m very familiar with, slam against mine. His hands move as he lifts and cradles me, ending the kiss to carry me from the room. If I would have known I only needed to ask, I wouldn’t have wasted so much time.

  He rests me on his bed and takes two steps back. “Your beast has accepted me?”

  This man is pushing my limits. “Ms. Beast is tired of you wasting time.”

  “You call her Ms. Beast?” he asks with a grin.

  I lift my hands and shrug. “You have your word and I have mine. Are we getting on with this or what?” The frustration in my voice should tip him off that I no longer want to talk.

  He cocks his head. “You realize you co
uld shift while mating.”

  “What?” No way, absolutely not!

  “It’s rare. With you newly changed you need to be aware of it.”

  “It won’t happen.” Crap, it better not. The short hair that covers my body when I shift will take “I must shave my legs to be with a guy” to an entirely new level. No snouts, no big teeth, and definitely no hair.

  Something occurs in my thick, lust-filled brain. “Are you afraid of me, King?”

  He rakes my clothed body with eyes so blue they’re almost an entirely new color. They also say King isn’t afraid of anything. “There’s no coming back from this, Marinah.” Our gazes lock. “Fear can’t be anywhere in this mix.”

  “Prove it.” The husky sound of my voice surprises me.

  King steps forward and I spread my knees to make room for him. He tugs on the bottom of his shirt and pulls it over his head, tossing it somewhere unimportant. What is important is more than a foot of solid wall rippling with muscle only inches from my tongue. I’ve wanted to taste him so badly. If I try when we’re kissing, he backs off. I’m tired of holding the physical ache in my fingers back.

  Lifting my hands, I place them flat on his wall of abs and watch him inhale sharply as my fingers glide over the ridges. I move further up to circle his pecks and notice how his nipples pebble with my touch. He reaches down to the bottom of my shirt and pulls it off me. He doesn’t give me time to think before unclipping my bra and tossing it aside with my shirt.

  His eyes smolder, their intensity making my heartbeat accelerate to the point of explosion. King takes my hands and pulls me up. He unzips my pants and divests me of them quickly. I wiggle completely free and watch as he removes his. We’re naked and taking in every inch of flesh we’ve seen before. Just not like this.

  He’s beautiful, the power of his body in every line and ridge of muscle that goes on forever. Slowly, his hand comes out and he grasps my shoulder and jerks me into his body, his mouth covering mine. This kiss is different than all the others. It tells me there will be no stopping. He holds nothing back and I drink him in, loving his taste, and needing more.

  Somehow, I end up with my back against the bed and King’s lips moving over my neck. Each small nip makes me arch against him and reach for more, needing all of him. My breasts, my belly, lower. He leaves me writhing, my sighs heavy in the room. I’m beyond ready when he lines up his body and meets my gaze.

  “You’re mine, Marinah,” he says and finally, he proves it.

  “I’m yours,” I strangle out at his entry.

  Mate.

  Chapter Nine

  King

  MARINAH IS IN my arms, in my bed, and asleep with one leg thrown over mine and a pillow covering her head. The small fingers of her right hand lay possessively on my chest and it’s been like this for hours. When I move, she uses me like a pillow and realigns herself for maximum comfort.

  It’s late, sometime around three in the morning.

  “Marinah,” I whisper. Her answering grumble makes me smile. “I want to go hunting.”

  Her lax body instantly goes rigid. “For hellhounds?” she asks huskily from beneath the pillow.

  I pull it away and her mass of hair is covering half her face. Pushing the strands back, I kiss her nose. “For hellhounds.”

  She flies out of bed and shifts seamlessly before I remind her she should put her pants on first to avoid ripping her legs up with her claws that she’s still a little clumsy with.

  “Damn claws,” she growls and I laugh before getting out of bed and helping her dress.

  I’m wise enough to get my pants and gear on and help her with hers before I shift. She’s practically jumping around on her tiptoes while I prepare.

  “Remember, you don’t want to get bit or scratched. Use your sword and stay clear of their claws and teeth.” I tighten her leather straps and secure the sword she’s been practicing with.

  “You’re sure we’ll find hellhounds?”

  “I’m sure.” My body transforms into Beast and we head out. We move to the water’s edge and run south, farther away from the village. An hour later we reach an uninhabited area where the reports of hellhounds I’ve received from Beck detail their migration. All we’ve discovered so far about their habits is they go into the water and disappear. The theory that they’re committing mass suicide is too good to be true and I know there’s something going on that we don’t understand.

  Beast settles with the run and my brain clears. I see movement ahead and nudge Marinah with an elbow and then point to the area. Her snout stretches and her teeth gleam. It’s not just her body that’s transformed, she’s changed her entire psyche. Fear is no longer a language she understands.

  There are two hellhounds, both large and both headed to the water. “Remember, stay clear of claws and teeth.” I have the antidote in a small case on my belt that I’d prefer not to use.

  “This will be fun,” she replies and then turns and takes off full tilt for the hellhounds, placing herself between their destination and her sword. She doesn’t wait for me and strikes the first hound coming at her with a high arch meant to remove his head. He turns at the last minute and takes a long slice to his shoulder. I catch the attention of the other hound before he charges her too. I’ve been working with Marinah on waiting until there’s an opportunity for a direct strike to the throat. In her excitement, she forgot everything. Her laughter makes me shake my head as the hound and I circle each other. This is something else perplexing about the new hellhounds we’re finding. Their fighting strategy has changed. This one is watching my blade and my movement, biding his time as I am mine.

  “Yes,” Marinah shouts.

  I don’t take my eyes from my adversary. It’s fortunate because he decides against waiting and charges me low, keeping his throat protected. Using the claws on my right hand, I snag him in the stomach and flip him so he lands on his back. It’s not the prettiest cut when I bring my sword down and it doesn’t quite do the trick.

  “Need some help, baby?” Marinah jibes from the sidelines.

  “Keep your eyes peeled for more of these suckers why don’t you.” The hellhound rolls and tries crawling away. With another lift of my sword, his head flies off.

  I turn and look at the satisfied smile on Marinah’s face, which is also speckled with blood and gore. “More,” she says with a chilling smile that’s all fang.

  Next, we find a group of three hellhounds. They’re farther from the water in abandoned sections of buildings that were once part of a small town. I don’t bother offering warnings this time. Most likely I’ll be administering the antidote before the night is over.

  Marinah’s feet move quickly while she circles one hound keeping it between her and the second. Bending low, I run past and swipe the hellhound that is stalking Marinah low in the peroneus tertius, right above the ankle to slow it down before I crash into the third hound. Its claws rake an inch from my jaw before my sword finds home and I jump back into the melee with Marinah.

  Her hound is a little trickier than the last one and it’s fighting back erratically, its deadly claws missing her by only a centimeter at best. One of her feet slips when she tries to avoid the claws and she goes down. It’s probably the only reason she isn’t cut. The hound charges and meets my blade before it lands on Marinah.

  She’s grinning. “I like this,” she says. “Maybe even better than sex.”

  “Is that so? I must have done something wrong, then.”

  She laughs from deep in her gut, enjoying everything about the evening. “Are you ready to go home so I can disprove your theory about sex?” I ask as I raise and lower my brow.

  Her laughter hits the wind when she turns and runs toward the beach. She stops at the shore and heads back toward our home with me a short distance behind. Her Warrior form runs with a sure, smooth glide that belies her size. She’s changed so much and the once-nervous woman is now a true warrior. She picks up speed and I do the same.

  “You must want
me bad,” I yell.

  Her laughter floats into my ears. “Arrogant much?” she calls over her shoulder.

  “Confident,” I yell back.

  “If you want me, you better beat me home.” She accelerates again and I easily keep up. When I finally decide to put an end to her madness and pass her, she sidesteps and kicks my ankle taking me down.

  We’re a hundred yards from the house and it takes me a quarter of that distance to gain my feet. My stride is longer and I catch her a few feet from the back steps, taking her down to the sand.

  “I guess you win,” she says with a grin.

  “I always win.”

  “It’s that king stuff that fills your head and makes you impossible to be around.”

  “Shift, Marinah.”

  She closes her eyes and her body mutates. I lift a human Marinah into my arms and carry her inside. “What about you?” she asks when we enter the bedroom.

  I shift with her in my arms.

  “Whoa,” she says and places her hands around my neck as my size decreases, throwing her off balance.

  “Shower and then I’ll prove that sex is better than killing hellhounds.”

  Her eyes rake over my body while I remove my gear. “Afraid of a little hellhound blood.”

  The fire in her eyes speaks for itself. The shower can wait.

  Chapter Ten

  Marinah

  HE PROVED IT three times—once before the shower and twice afterward. We slept until almost noon and only Beck’s pounding on the door got us out of bed.

  The thing about Beck is I’m not even sure if he likes me. Oh, he gives me a cursory hello each day. He isn’t rude, he just doesn’t speak to me and I ignore him the same way. The situation just feels awkward whenever he’s here. King leads Beck to the table in the next room and I prepare a meal.

  Famished isn’t quite the word I’m looking for when my stomach growls and lets me know I’ve been too long without food. Hungry, ravenous, and starving don’t do the trick either. My large intestine is eating my small intestine and there should be a word for that. Food on the island is one of my favorite things about my new home. Needing meat like a second leg and never gaining weight helps too.