Wicked After Dark: 20 Steamy Paranormal Tales of Dragons, Vampires, Werewolves, Shifters, Witches, Angels, Demons, Fey, and More

by Mina Carter

  A hard blow to the temple caused Forrest's vision to wane.

  The man got up, dusted himself off, and smirked down at him. "Too bad your dad didn't teach you to mind your own damn business." He finished his little speech by spitting in Forrest's face.

  One second Forrest was wiping the spit off his cheek with his arm, and the next, his mountain lion was roaring. His lion tackled the man from behind and sent him sprawling forward as he sliced a large paw over the man's back.

  Whistles sounded and a shot rang in the air. His mountain lion whimpered and collapsed onto the man, before Forrest returned to his own skin. He saw blood oozing out of his side before he passed out.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  FORREST SLOWLY BLINKED, his eyes opening a little more each time. He could feel the wound healing in his side, drawing what little energy he had to do so.

  "You're awake!"

  He turned his head to the side and saw Piper's smiling face. "Mostly." His voice came out a graveled murmur, then he coughed.

  She sat down on the bed beside him and took his hand. "So…uh…you're a shifter."

  Forrest swallowed before nodding. "Guess I should have mentioned that before."

  "I really should have known. You have a little too much energy to be a mere human."

  He watched her wink at him and he grinned, showing his dimples. "Maybe being around you gives me excess energy."

  Piper rolled her eyes, but laughed. "Nice try…Forrest."

  He glanced up in alarm after he realized she said his real name. "I---"

  "Shh." Piper placed her finger over his lips. "Trey…Terry filled me in. He's offered me a temporary job."

  Forrest sighed and kissed her finger. In reality, he was relieved she knew. He'd been carrying the guilt of keeping the truth from her for months. She was fun to be with, his best friend really, but his mountain lion had grown bored. Piper was not his fated mate and never would be. It was time to move on from the sexual relationship. The man in him scoffed at giving up the easy lay, but the mountain lion insisted their mate was out there waiting for them.

  "What sort of job?" he finally asked.

  "The sort that helps you get past this trigger of yours," Terry answered from the doorway.

  "What trigger?" Forrest frowned, feeling like the odd man out.

  "The kid talked to the police. The man you fought is in custody for child abuse. Poor kid had bruises all over him from a belt. The guy wanted to press charges against you for assault with a deadly weapon, but we found out a few things about him and the government decided the federal charges would be dropped if the case against you was never filed. He agreed," Terry stated, leaning his body against the doorframe. "You're lucky your cover wasn't blown, turning into your animal like that."

  Forrest grumbled to himself and turned his head back toward Piper. "So you're going to do the psychological mumbo-jumbo on me?"

  Piper smirked. "Yup."

  "You don't have to look so damn happy about it," Forrest complained.

  "I can't wait to get into that head of yours." Piper tapped on his forehead with her finger.

  Terry laughed from the doorway. "Maybe you can prove there is a brain in there, but I doubt it."

  Forrest waved his middle finger at Terry, who just laughed and walked away.

  * * * * *

  His body was almost completely healed from the bullet he'd taken in his side, but Terry refused to let him train again until he worked on his 'trigger' issue with Piper.

  Forrest stared at the soft blue paint on the wall. He'd never even noticed this room before, though it was just off of the main training room in the underground levels beneath the arcade. The fact that Piper was allowed in the facility at all was surprising to him. He guessed she had pretty extensive background checks to intern with a congressman, but there was a whole level of clearance she'd need to have in order to work with the D.E.A. on such short notice.

  When she walked in the room in her slate gray business suit with her hair up in a bun, his body was thinking other thoughts---the opposite of working on his mental health. His fingers itched to yank out the bun and let her brown hair tumble over her shoulders, a section or two to provocatively curl around her nipples. Of course, the suit would have to go…or the skirt and heels could stay on while he hiked the material up over her ass and…

  "Stop looking at me like that!" Piper demanded, breaking the bite of her words with a little giggle.

  Forrest smirked. "Like what?" He tried, but failed, to act innocent.

  She rolled her eyes and shook her head, taking a seat behind the small desk. "This facility is impressive. I never would have guessed this existed under the arcade."

  "I guess that's the point," he said with a shrug. He was back to feeling apprehensive now that half her body was hidden behind the desk.

  "Relax, I promise this will go easier than you have imagined it would. Why don't you start by telling me what was going on when the incident happened at the park."

  Forrest sighed softly and laced his hands together behind his head, staring up at the ceiling. "I was taking a jog around the pond, something I do on my nights off. I'm unsure if I was thinking about Finn, or if---"

  "Who's Finn?" Piper had leaned forward on the desk, her left hand cradling her chin as she listened intently.

  "My father."

  "You call him by his name?" Piper asked curiously.

  "Most of the time. We aren't close," he said with a shrug of indifference.

  "Okay, go on," she prompted.

  "Like I said, I'm unsure if I was thinking about Finn, or if the words I was hearing from that jackass to his son caused me to think it. He was telling the kid to throw it like he'd taught him to, or he'd spank him."

  "That's something your father used to say or do?"

  Forrest just nodded. "So jackass asked what I was staring at, and I called him that---jackass---and told him he shouldn't bully his son. He should pick on someone his own size."

  "I see." Piper leaned back in her chair.

  "He came at me, we fought, and he got in a lucky shot." He wasn't going to admit that he probably was too out of control emotionally to fight effectively. "He told me my father should have taught me to mind my own damn business, and then he spit in my face. The next thing I knew, my mountain lion took over and attacked him, and I was shot by the police. That's all I remember."

  "I'm sorry that happened to you." Her voice was soft.

  Forrest shrugged and placed his hands in his lap, his fingers fidgeting nervously. "It's over."

  "It's not over, Forrest. I can't say you were wrong to stick up for the child, but you have to get a handle on your anger. It's clear that because he brought up your father, you were out of control and wound up shifted."

  "I…it was…"

  "If you are going to do your job, and be undercover, you have to get a handle on it."

  "Shifting is not going to be a problem. Shifters are out in the open now, and I doubt my target would care if---"

  "It's not the shift, per say, it's the fact that you could wind up in jail for an attack. Either you'd have to wait it out in jail like everyone else, or the D.E.A. would use their clout to get you out. That would be the problem. Plus, they won't want an out of control agent. I was hired to help you with this, Forrest. Please let me do my job, unless you are no longer interested in keeping yours. Even if you aren't, I want you to be free from this trigger."

  Forrest groaned and scrubbed his hands over his face. He guessed she had a point. "What do I do?" he asked with a sigh.

  CHAPTER NINE

  FORREST MET WITH Piper the next day at the secret training facility to work on his trigger. She was good at her job, but he knew he would hate every minute of it.

  "Tell me about your…about Finn," she insisted.

  His face blanked, void of any emotion as he rattled off the description of his father. "He's a few inches shorter than me, blue eyes, red hair that is very slowly graying. Unlike me, he can shift into
anything, but usually a leopard. He's originally from Scotland, but he lost his accent long before I came along. When I was a kid, he'd sometimes slip into the brogue when he was really angry, but I haven't heard it in a long time."

  "How old is he?" Piper was busy writing notes on a notepad.

  "His last birthday? One hundred and fifteen."

  "Wow!" Piper exclaimed, looking up from her notes. "So he looks middle-aged, even at that age?"

  "Yeah. I would say he looks about forty compared to a human. We age slowly."

  "No kidding! How long does a shifter typically live?"

  "Barring premature death, usually about five hundred years. Sarah, the clan gossip, is four hundred and eighty-eight at last count, and she's so mean, I bet she'll be eight hundred before she croaks," Forrest admitted with a chuckle. Sarah had always been nice to him, but she always sided with Finn on clan matters. Plus, she was so old that she thought you never questioned your father about anything.

  "Tell me about your sister."

  Forrest was relieved when the topic veered away from Finn. "Fiona is a little spitfire. No bigger than a minute, with bright red hair and blue-green eyes. Finn showed up with her a year ago; she was eight." He could not help the smile that lit his face. He loved his baby sister more than anything in the world.

  "You never knew about her before that?" Piper asked in surprise.

  "Nope. Can't say I was surprised, because I've overheard shifters talk about Finn's actions at clan celebrations. He…" Forrest made a face and shivered. Who liked to think about their father having sex? Gross!

  Piper broke out in a fit of laughter before settling back down. "Tell me about your worst memory of him."

  Forrest began to wring his hands in nervousness. "Just one?" At Piper's nod, he tried to narrow it down. "I guess it'd be when he called me out in front of the clan, demanding I shift for the first time. It was my thirteenth birthday."

  "Why would he do that?"

  "Because I'm the son of the clan leader, and he insisted I would someday be clan leader. He said I should be able to shift on demand; it was expected of me. He ordered me to strip, in front of some cute girls no less, and said I better shift or else." He was drawn so far in the memories, he continued on as if it was happening at that very moment.

  "I take off my clothes, and the wind is blowing. I try to cover my crotch when my dick goes hard. It's utterly humiliating. The clan is laughing, and Finn is yelling at me to shift. I'd never shifted before, I didn't know what to do, or what to expect. I was shaking, my dick stiff as a board, people laughing…I grabbed my clothes and ran off. I tried to sneak into the house, but he was waiting for me, of course. I assumed he was going to whip me, but I guess he decided I was finally too old for that. Instead he told me how much I had embarrassed him, and that I would learn to shift on demand, and we wouldn't do anything else until I did."

  Piper swallowed and gripped her pen a little harder. "So you learned to shift then?" came out a hushed whisper.

  "Two days later. True to his word, we did not eat, sleep, work, or go to school. He tried everything. Degrading, demeaning, yelling. Then he told me my mother abandoned me because I was useless and she hated me. The next thing I knew, I was a mountain lion and trying to rip Finn apart with my claws."

  "I'm so sorry," she murmured.

  Forrest looked up and saw a tear trace its way down her left cheek before she swiped it away with her hand. He shrugged. "I learned that I shifted the easiest when I was angry and emotional, though I can shift without that now."

  "But that's why you shifted in the park with that man," she said, meeting his eyes.

  He searched her face before looking back down at his hands. She was right. That jackass triggered the memories of Finn on that fateful day. "How do I stop it?" was a defeated whisper.

  "That's what we have to figure out, Forrest. I want to try some different techniques, so bear with me."

  Forrest sighed and nodded. What choice did he have? He was a fucked up mess.

  CHAPTER TEN

  DENNIS STARED AT the cards in his hand before looking across the table at Forrest. "Whatcha got kid?"

  Forrest glanced at his cards before laying them down. "Flush."

  "Four of a kind." Dennis placed his cards on the table with a smirk, raking the pile of chips in front of him. "So, tell me you are bored of the fake tits and want to work for me."

  "I am bored of the fake tits," Forrest admitted. "What would I do for you?"

  "You have an analytical mind, and I am positive those muscles are for more than just show," Dennis replied. "I have the perfect spot for you. And whatever you are making at Cuties, I'll triple."

  Forrest managed to stop his mouth from dropping open in surprise---just barely. He did not have to look at Terry to know he was supposed to accept the position. He rubbed at the stubble on his chin in contemplation.

  "Don't make me beg."

  "I'll take it," Forrest replied with a grin.

  "Hell yeah!" Falcone whooped and smacked the table, causing the chips to bounce. "Welcome to the big leagues."

  Forrest nodded and chanced a quick glance at Terry.

  * * * * *

  "What exactly am I doing here?" Forrest asked in confusion.

  Terry nodded toward an older man with red hair standing behind the bar, with a white dish towel casually thrown over his shoulder.

  Forrest could not stop the shiver of déjà vu that slid its way down his spine. Suddenly he was back in Pepper Valley at Great Scotts with Finn behind the bar. He blinked as Terry snapped fingers in front of his face.

  "Close to the surface, huh?" Terry asked.

  "Don't know what you're talking about," Forrest muttered as he began to peel the label off of his bottle of beer.

  "Bullshit," Terry scoffed. "This is a little side project for you."

  "Another mis…job?" Forrest asked in surprise. He was supposed to do two mission at once?

  "I want to make sure you are prepared for anything. Plus, I want to test out your training with Piper."

  Forrest slumped in his chair. Training with Piper was his least favorite activity, but she claimed he was making progress. "What do I do?"

  "That man has looked for his son for ten years. You are that son."

  "Are you serious? You want me to…do that to the poor guy?" Forrest glanced at the man again. He looked sad, but always had a quick smile for a customer.

  "Yes. I forwarded an ad in the local paper to your phone. Show him that, and go for the ride."

  Forrest pulled out his phone and rubbed at his brow. This was such a shitty thing to do. He hoped the guy was into something illegal to assuage his guilt.

  He stood up from the booth and slowly made his way toward the bar. Conversations with Finn played over and over in his mind, a few good, but most bad, causing him to turn away at the last minute.

  He paused as he heard a voice behind him ask what he could get for him. Forrest turned back to face the man who had an easy smile with brows raised, waiting for his order.

  "I…ehm…" Forrest took a seat on an empty bar stool and turned his phone toward the man. He watched the man's face visibly pale as he looked over the ad asking if anyone had information about his missing son. Then the man looked back up at Forrest.

  A smile lit up the man's face and he leaned over the bar to envelop Forrest in a hard hug, his body racking with sobs.

  Forrest slowly wrapped his arms around the man's back, patting gently. He could not stop his own tears from blurring his eyes. What he wouldn't give for Finn to look at him and react that way just once!

  "Johnnie, it is so good to have you home!" The man pulled back but kept his hands on Forrest's face before giving him a kiss on the forehead.

  "F-F-Foster is my name now…ehm…sir," he replied, still overcome with the welcome.

  "I'm no sir. You call me Dad. Foster, huh? Okay then." The man turned to the bar patrons. "This is my son!" he announced with bravado. "One round on the house!"
r />   Hoots and hollers accompanied the announcement as the man turned to a waitress and told her to tend bar while he and his son talked in the office.

  Forrest glanced at Terry, who raised his beer in response. He quickly followed the man to the office.

  * * * * *

  His new "father" was named Lawrence Wilson, and his real son had went missing when his wife took Johnnie after an argument about Lawrence's drinking.

  Lawrence had sobered up and had been alcohol free for nine and a half years, which wasn't easy when he owned a bar.

  Forrest had given a short version of his life from his Foster Douglas file, and the man did not even think to question it at all.

  They made a date to have dinner that weekend and Forrest had to exchange numbers with him before Lawrence agreed to let him out of his sight.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  FORREST LEANED INTO the hug from Lawrence. In a weird way, he was trying to relieve his childhood with this man as his father.

  "It's so good to see you, son!" Lawrence pulled back and gave him a few soft pats on the cheek. "How have you been?"

  "Good." He shrugged. If you ignored the fact that he was slowly destroying this man's hope when Forrest eventually left or had to tell him he wasn't his son. He truly felt horrible about this mission.

  "Have you ever bartended, Foster? I wouldn't ask, but Betsy called in sick and it was a busy day on the House floor, so all the politicians will be crowding up the joint in an hour or so."

  "As a matter of fact, I have. I'm pretty good." He couldn't exactly admit to growing up behind a bar, and he was a bit embarrassed to admit his last bartending occurred at a seedy strip club.

  "Could you grab an apron and sling some drinks then? There could be an extra quarter in your inheritance for it." Lawrence chuckled.

  "Wow, a whole quarter, huh?" Forrest laughed. "I could get that pack of gum I've been eyeing."

  Lawrence howled in laughter. "Damn right! Nothing but the best for my son."

  He did his best to keep the smile on his face, but his thoughts drifted to Finn. He knew Finn was happy to have Fiona now to follow in his footsteps.