I can't take my mouth from her shoulder until she gives consent. Which means I can't tell Arden to fuck off.
The Mutable thinks he'll have a ménage à trois with my change?
He's mistaken.
“Yes,” she answers with a thready sigh.
I shudder in relief, and my teeth release her flesh. Perfect indentations mar the smoothness of her upper shoulder, though I didn't break the skin.
Stealthy creeping erupts from the hallway. Arden's eyes flash to the source.
The shifters who I gave the slip have arrived.
A languid Talyn hangs between us. Ready for transition. She would take any male in this state.
With the Mutable's help, I put her there.
A huge Lycan male crosses the threshold into her bedroom. “We'll take it from here, dogs.”
He smiles, his many rows of teeth glow softly in the dark bedroom.
I lay Talyn on the bed and loosen my hands, crouching low.
They won't have her.
I don't look behind me to see what Arden's doing, but I hear the crunch of bones shifting. Tendons snap wetly as they realign into a form of his choosing.
He'll take me out of the equation while a mutual enemy threatens Talyn.
But he doesn't. Arden charges the shifters.
As a grizzly.
I leap into the fray, fangs bared.
THE END
SHIFTER
An Alpha Claim Brief-Bites® Novelette
Episode 3
New York Times Bestselling Author(s)
MARATA EROS
TAMARA ROSE BLODGETT
All Rights Reserved.
Copyright © 2015 Marata Eros
Copyright © 2015 Tamara Rose Blodgett
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This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer's imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.
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Cover art by: Willsin Rowe
Proofed by: Corinna
1
Talyn
This is my life.
Yup.
Fighting among supernaturals while they devastate my house.
Check.
Pooky MIA.
Check.
Swollen female bits making me absolutely crazy.
Double check.
A roar fills my ears and I want to flinch, but no part of my body moves. I'm languid, as my house is coming down around me.
Plaster dust fills the air in a cloud and I cough.
Blood splatter flies over my head as it dots the ceiling above my head like paint thrown from a can.
I try to come to myself but I'm numb.
All I remember is Merck's teeth in my shoulder—Arden's hands on my breasts.
Paws.
I giggle, and on some level I understand I've moved into hysteria. Any woman would be after what I've been through in the last day.
Tonight I found out I'm sort of a werewolf. And a human. And a counselor.
Like a tootsie roll with a gooey yummy center.
I bark out a laugh and get a case of the hiccups for my trouble.
Pooky sprints into the room, hopping onto my chest. My breath whooshes out of me and I'm fighting.
Fighting for my sanity.
Fighting the new instincts that rise like vapor from a boiling pot deep within me.
A raspy tongue runs over my nose. Golden-green eyes blink raptly into my own.
I wake as though from a dream.
Growls, and a horribly wet sounding, rubberband-like snapping has me sitting up in my bed squinting into the haze of dust and debris.
My nipples tingle, my crotch feels like a soaked donut.
I need to get out of here.
Fur flashes in my peripheral vision and Pooky lets out a squalling meow that lets me know she's ready to vacate.
I scoop my cat, swinging my legs over the edge of the bed and eye the window.
I stand carefully, inching along the narrow space between my bed and the wall that holds the window, praying that all the shapeshifting zoo behind me is too busy to notice their prey is making a getaway.
Half-changed bodies blur in my periphery, talons slashing into torsos with mottled hair and shredded flesh.
I gulp back my fear.
I turn my back on the melee, flipping the latch and open the double-hung window. It slides up and I punch the screen out.
Pooky accidentally claws me as she escapes through the hole I just made.
Thank God—she's safe.
I don't bother to wipe the blood from my arm, scooting through the opening in the brittle screening.
A hand latches around my ankle and I kick back with everything I have.
I connect and a howl erupts, the grip vanishing.
The urge to pee suddenly burns. I scoot out, tumbling into the shrubbery. Thorns embed themselves and I wince, thrashing my way out.
Scrambling out of the bushes, I lurch forward. Sighting the fence, I race for the six foot tall slats of wood like shadowed soldiers bordering my property.
I never even consider the gate. I grab the rough wood and hook my toe on the cross member, ungracefully heaving myself up and over. The fence groans at the abuse but holds.
Unfortunately, I don't fly over the top, I fall—the sidewalk rushing to greet me.
But strong arms find me instead.
Jamie Duncan gazes down on me with a look that cannot be classified as anything but triumphant.
“Gotcha,” he says softly.
A beat of time thumps between us then I'm smashing my elbow into his nose.
He drops me, and I crab walk on my hands and knees.
Can this get any worse? Whacko stalker happens to be outside my house while the shapeshifting zoo beats the beejezus out of each other?
I can't make this shit up.
I flip over and begin to stand. His foot plows into my ass and I fly forward, chin hitting the cement in the rawest abrasion I've ever suffered.
“Ow!” I cry, my hands covering my abused chin and shredded cheekbone.
“Bitch,” he seethes from behind me.
I roll onto my back as his hand looms over my neck in an effort to drag me to him.
My foot slams his nuts and Duncan goes to his knees.
I roll to my side, shoving off and struggle to my feet. My blood litters the ground like dark polka dots on the pale concrete.
Staggering, I don't look behind me, and begin a limping jog down the street. My eyes latch onto the barely lit Family Dollar Store sign like a beacon.
They're always open. I'll just plaster myself to the front door. Maybe all the shapeshifters will take pause.
Instead, I fall like a felled tree, someone's arms wrapped around my legs.
I manage to arrest my face bashing into the concrete again my a millimeter.
Jamie Duncan roughly throws me on my back and cups my sex, brutally squashing the tender area.
My raw scream shatters the night.
“Shut the fuck up.”
His slap slams my face into the concrete, conveniently chewing up the unmarred side of my face.
Great, didn't escape the Beating by Cement after all.
I groan, my vision tripling.
Harsh panting is all I hear. His rancid breath fills my nose.
I cough, trying to beat him back with my fists.
When he hits me again I can't hang onto consciousness, my vision swimming from the dual blows.
Like grabbing for smoke, wakefulness escapes my grasp.
Blackness moves in, swallow
ing me whole.
2
Merck
I pile the bodies into the center of the room as Arden drags the last one over, and with a gentle heave, tosses the headless Lycan at the top.
He winks at me. “King of the hill.”
I frown, correcting him, “Lycan.”
He barks out a laugh, shrugging dismissively. “Whatever. At least we kept them from nailing Talyn.” He meets my eyes. “Now we have to find her.”
My eyebrow hikes, my body tensing. “Where is she—I don't smell her.”
“Took off with the damn cat.”
My lips quirk. “Well she can't be too far. And for the record,” I clap Arden on the shoulder and he staggers forward, “thanks for the help.”
His brows lower, hands going to strong hips. “Does this mean you'll share?”
I shake my head. “I understand you think you're capable of transitioning, Talyn. However, with zero changes to your record and her being of Lanarre descent—” I let my words trail off. Arden's no dumbass, he can figure out what happened here.
I am an alpha Changer, it's not in my nature to share a female.
She's just a change, but she's my change. When she becomes, Talyn will find her true mate.
“You're growling.”
I give him a sharp look, the humming deep within my chest quieting. “Fuck,” I mutter.
“Having a tough time reconciling the whole, ʻI'm a Changer and she's a changeʼ deal?”
He smirks.
I glare.
“Can't beat your chest then leave her?” Arden continues, smile widening. “I got your back on that one. I loved Talyn the instant I met her. I think I was too young to know what she was to me—biologically.”
I turn faster than Arden can track and jerk him to me by his thin ripped up shirt. The cloth makes a soft shriek as it falls apart from my harsh grip. “Listen up. I'm not giving Talyn over to a Mutable. Period. My job is to change her, then offer her as a breeder for the Lycans. Got it.” I shake him for emphasis.
Arden covers my hands with his own.
His grip begins to crush mine.
I glance down, his hands are no longer human, but talon-shaped. Like an eagle.
One that would have a twelve foot wingspan.
“Fuck!” I yell and he releases me.
My blood is hot as it runs down my forearms. The heat of healing burns through the sliced up top of my hands.
“Dick,” I grunt.
“Bully,” Arden chimes back softly. “Now you listen up—I know you don't give a shit about Talyn—the woman. But I do,” his thumb jabs his deeply muscled chest. “A Mutable doesn't have many stabs at a female whom they can mate with.”
I roll my eyes, folding my arms. “Nice choice of words.”
He shrugs. “It's no different than what you want Talyn for. You'll breed her for transition then you're on to the next female. It's perfect for the Lycans.” He flips his palms out. “But what about the females? What happens after they're discarded into the new Lycan society after only knowing humans?”
My jaw clenches. I hammer a shoulder up in a abrupt shrug. “I don't know—I change—like I keep saying. I do that part really fucking well. What happens to the females after I get them to their full Lycan forms is really none of my concern. I've been told they're assigned a mate who's good breedable stock. Period. What else is there?”
Arden's laugh shoots out of him like a bullet as he cocks his head to the side. “I don't know, you fucking one-dimensional prick—a life?” He slaps his thigh. “Talyn is a person, with unique desires, goals—dreams. Who are we to steal those away unless we have something to offer in return? Don't you see that perspective?”
My eyes slide away from his. Of course, his points make sense. How would I feel if someone told me it was time for me to be human now? Forget my strength, beast—hell my sense of smell. It's time for me to play mortal, and I'd get whatever female someone else thought would be a great match for me to be a stud with.
Like a real animal—without freedom of choice.
I feel a sour expression overtake my face.
Arden begins to nod, his eyes roving my features. “You're getting it. She's not resisting for the sake of being stubborn—Talyn's resisting out of a sense of lost liberty. She wants a little choice. Biology just handed her a shitty hand in a deck of cards not of her making. All I'm saying is, if you're just going to breed her into Lycan-ness, let me share so I can be her mate afterward. So that Talyn—the woman—is not exploited because of her genetic make up.”
I stubbornly shake my head, hands fisting. “I am not changing her for you. I'm changing her for Lycans. We don't have enough females. I can't just volunteer a change to you because you've been waiting in the wings for twenty years.”
“I was hoping to reason with you.”
What is he talking about?
“But now I'm going to give it to you straight.”
I cross my arms, my jaw set like stone. “Give what to me straight?”
“We're better together than apart.” His palm sweeps toward the dead mound of Lycans we dispatched together.
I nod. “We can agree on the protection of Talyn, and I think I was clear how much I appreciated our collaboration.”
Arden nods at my factual statement. “But we've been jawing about our differences while she's running around, possibly enticing another rogue group of Lycan or others to her like a dinner bell.”
“Others?” I say, taking a menacing step forward.
He laughs. “Do you think I'm the only Mutable on the planet?” Arden makes a noise of disgust. “I am the only Mutable that gives a shit about Talyn. We're not the mating type, Changer.”
“What are you then?” I ask, coming to stand three inches from his face.
“We're the breed them and leave them type. It is a Mutable's role to impregnate as many viable female candidates as possible.”
I jerk my face back. “So you're no better than a Changer?” I scoff.
He purses his lips, giving a slow, grim nod. “So much worse. We do not need a female's consent.”
The gears of my mind grind to a halt. “Fucking rapists?”
Arden nods again. “I was orphaned. A chance meeting with a Mutable, who was part of a colony, told me what I was. I met Talyn before puberty.”
“What?”
He looks away, blowing a strand of hair out of his eyes. “I bonded with her. It's rare, but it happens.” His deep blue eyes meet mine within the gloom of her destroyed bedroom.
“If another Mutable finds Talyn, she will not be transitioned well.” He interprets my expression. “Oh—she'll be transitioned alright. In the street, alley, or wherever the Mutable can drag her off to.”
“No!” I roar, his words creeping underneath my sensitive skin like slivers of glass.
“Yes,” he answers flatly. “I thought between the two of us, we could change her. And together, she'd gently be given her new life. I could be her mate—what I've always wanted.”
Damn, I didn't like hearing any of that. “But I didn't help.”
The corner of Arden's lips lift. “No.”
I have a sudden epiphany. “Mutables can't get to her after I change her?”
“They can't with me in the mix. After my scent is mingled with hers, they won't bother—figuring she's already bred by one of their own.”
“And mine?”
Arden's lips tweak in a sad parody of a smile. “Fair game.”
“Fuck!” I yell again, yanking at my hair.
My hands come away with the blood of others.
“Meow.” Our heads swivel toward the window.
The feline is on the sill, black tail twitching. Her eyes implore us.
“Pooky's here,” Arden says in a tight voice.
“So where in the blue fuck is Talyn?” I seethe.
“Meow,” Pooky seems to reply, leaping out the window.
“Gone,” Arden says.
We look at each other.
Silence ticks like a silent clock as we race out into the back yard, looking for the only scent that matters.
Talyn.
Our disagreement about sharing doesn't preclude Talyn's importance. The struggle against each other only solidifies it.
3
Talyn
I wake with a pitiful groan.
I feel like I consumed every bottle of liquor inside my cabinet.
Every. One.
I rise up, ass in the air, and use my elbows as a prop for my throbbing head. Dumping my forehead into my hands, I groan again.
Just kill me now.
Then I remember that Jamie Duncan was at my sidewalk to conveniently catch me as I tossed myself over my fence while escaping the shifter catastrophe inside my house.
I sit up, rocking back on my heels as a temporary perch.
A stained mattress is tossed in the center of the bare floor like a discarded deck of cards. My eyes bounce around. There's nothing else. There's no amount of training that can prepare me for this.
I flatten my palm on the gross floor and hoist myself up. Pins and needles dog my lower legs and arms. I must've been in the same position for hours.
I have to pee so bad my bladder feels like a bomb ready to explode. I whip my head first to the right then left in search of a handy toilet.
The pain from the abrupt movement brings me to my knees, and a whimper squeezes past my lips. The wounds of my face begins to pulse to the beat of my heart where Duncan hit me.
I need a bathroom.
I lick my cracked lips. I need water.
I roll my face against the cold hard floor, wincing, and spy two doors. The one to the left has a barrier in place at the bottom where fresh air and light would normally travel. It darkens the room.
The other door has soft black at the edges.
I pull myself to my feet, careful not to move my head too quickly. Gradually, my eyes adjust to the vague light seeping around the edges of a pull-blind shade that's completely closed.
I half-stagger to the door that has a vague outline around it.
Angelic Blood (#5): Alpha Warriors of the Blood (The Blood Series) Page 29