His own hand covers hers but he never takes his eyes off Merck.
I'm hoping I can just become invisible.
“Stay out of this, vampire,” Merck says.
I can't take my eyes off the strange half-form of Merck. He looks like a huge human man, with a superimposed image of a wolf over everything. Short talons grace his fingertips in molted colors of beige, ivory and tan. A light coating of reddish-brown hair runs over his exposed skin.
And there's a lot of skin flashing.
Lust strikes me like fiery pain and I can't stifle the groan.
Merck's gaze finds me in the corner, huddling against Arden.
Fear scorches me. It mixes with my lust in an intoxicating rush of I want him.
His eyes remain the same. I'd know them anywhere. He's the one that protected me from Jamie Duncan.
He's also the one who was staring at me through my office window.
Adrienne steps between us, blocking my view of this luscious wolf-man. Werewolf.
Lycan.
“I can't have you taking out a client, wolf.”
I can see the corners of his elbows around her body as he folds his arms in a very human-like gesture. “I have no intention of harming Talyn Phisher. You, of all people, should understand my intent.” He sounds like he has a speech impediment, of the growling variety.
Adrienne's men stay close but don't try for Merck again.
“The humans are just getting used to us being in the picture, we don't need the complication of introducing the entire supernatural underworld in all its stunning variety to them.”
“I don't give a damn about political correctness or the humansʼ sensibilities. I have a change, and by moon, I'm going to transition her.”
I frown, bristling. Oh really?
“Adrienne said you need to sex her,” Arden says unhelpfully, and I elbow him.
“Ouch! Damn—Tal, he's not going to beat on us.”
“And you're sure because this is so normal?” I swing my palm at the four dangerous supernaturals, a busted up house filled with estrogen, testosterone and everyone on edge. Odds are high for more violence. “I'd like to say something.”
All eyes turn to me, reflecting in the gloom of my place. The undercabinet lighting seeping from the kitchen is just enough to make out their shapes as the sun sinks for the day.
I push myself up on my butt, and lean against the underside of my kitchen peninsula, shoving a bar stool out of the way. The hard wood behind my back feels good. Solid. “Enforcer Adrienne just told me I'm,” I feel utterly ridiculous articulating the whole thing but what the hell, I have three vampires and a were-something in my house—it can't get much stranger, “a hybrid-Lycan woman.” I suck in a cleansing inhale. “I haven't asked to be one. I have a normal life and was happily living it.”
Adrienne's lips twitch.
I narrow my eyes on her. This situation is a lot of things but funny it's not. “What?”
“It's just the same song and dance I gave the guys.” She jerks her thumb behind her at the huge vampires.
I ignore that. “We are different women with divergent life circumstances.”
It's Adrienne's turn to shoot me a glare. “Not so different. I bet you look at this as a robbery of your independence.”
“Of course,” I bite back.
“It doesn't have to be. I'm still working.” She lifts an eyebrow.
I snort. “Look at you.”
Merck steps forward, and the vampires turn to him, hissing—talons tearing out of their fingertips.
I might make a tiny mewling sound.
The image triples in my vision and I start sucking deep breaths again. Heat climbs from my feet and I smack the surface behind me before I pass out.
He holds up his long-fingered hands, talons clicking with the movement. “Hang on.”
I choke back bile.
“Nice right hook, Lycan,” Adrienne says without rancor.
He nods as though she's an opponent on a Judo mat, his eyes steady on her face, while his body holds the tension of a possible fight. “Excellent reaction time, Enforcer.”
They stare at each other after their mutual admiration moment.
She steps back.
Her retreat leaves Merck wide open to our mutual perusal. Cold sweat beads on my forehead and I mark each breath. In. Out. In. Out.
The silence stretches between us seemingly without end as we check each other out.
Finally, his nostrils give a hard flare and he stretches out his hand in my direction. “You're degrading. My job is to transition you, female.”
My face jerks back like I've been hit, the warmth of my lust cools. The panic.
Merck just absolutely dismissed what I've just explained. He's Mr. Fix-it? No.
I've been clear about me owning my life. Mine.
My jaw slackens, and I shake my head. “Right. But this is not how I see things happening.” I squeeze closer to Arden, and God love him—he wraps his arms around me.
The gesture is not lost on Merck, whose blue eyes become slits of sapphire flames in his face.
Arden's presence clears my head and I stare defiantly back at Merck.
His nostrils flare and his head cocks to the left. It's the strangest sight I've ever seen. A human emotion etched on a face that is half-animal.
Merck's eyes fall on Arden and narrow with suspicion.
“Reveal yourself,” his voice grates, his mouth and nose taking shallow puffs of air to try to gather scent.
Adrienne and the two vampires turn to study Arden.
“What?” I ask, indignant. “This is Arden. My friend from forever. He has nothing to do with this.” I don't want any attention on the only friend who's truly got my back. Who has been there for me since before I was an adult. Him I know—trust. And I'll protect him.
Arden didn't ask to be in the middle of some supernatural war.
Suddenly I'm hauled up on my feet. Strong arms gently grip me from behind.
No one is looking at me. They're looking behind me
I hear flesh moving like wet sand sliding into the waves come to shore, bones relenting to shifting—tendons binding a new form together like rubberbands snapping.
I begin to tremble. But I manage to rotate to face Arden, not the smartest thing, giving Merck the Lycan my back.
It's not Arden who stands inches from me, but someone who looks like an echo of Arden.
My vision swims and I realize I'm getting close to passing out for a second time. I bite the inside of my cheek, the pain allows me to gradually come to myself.
Arden's six and a half-feet tall now. Gone is the geeky body with the mild-mannered persona. Eyes that don't look remotely like an owl's gaze steadily back at me.
This new man is hard. Every bit of him.
“Arden?” I croak.
He smiles suddenly and he's Arden in that brief sliver of time. When it fades, so does the resemblance. “Yeah—it's me.”
“Where?” I ask, my eyes roving his form.
He sighs, a finger stroking my face. His hand drops and he glances over my shoulder. “You've ruined it, Lycan.”
I look between the two of them, adrenaline spiking through my system. “Ruined what? Arden—you're scaring me.”
“You should be,” Merck says. “Because he's not who you thought he was.”
I whip my face to Arden. “Is he—is that Lycan,” I say with reluctance, “is he right? Are you something other than my best friend and biology geek?”
He shoots a glare at Merck.
“Yes,” he answers in a terse word. Honest. Raw.
Unreal. This can't be my life.
“What are you?” I ask in a whisper, and the othersʼ silence is deafening.
“A Masker.”
“Fuck me,” Merck says, folding his arms. His penetrating stare incinerates Arden.
“Makes sense,” one of the vampires says with a sage nod, and Adrienne groans a soft curse.
“Tell me what
that is right now,” I say, palms on his now-muscular chest, ready to push off.
Adrienne doesn't look happy. “It's a shapeshifter who can scent-mask. He can live among anything—anyone, without them ever being aware of what he is.”
I back away a little, cupping my elbows.
Arden's face morphs to pained. “No—Talyn. Don't.”
“What. Are. You?” I shriek, backing away from them all. My eyes ping-pong around. No place is safe. My home is no longer a sanctuary. Arden isn't him, and I've got a half-werewolf in my house who's talking about transitioning me.
My teeth begin to throb and a wave of heat presses in from all sides, igniting a fire at my core.
Great timing.
And where the hell is Pooky?
Merck moves into our space, his nostrils flaring to try and catch scent. His frustration is obvious. “Let me guess—Lycan?”
“Bingo,” Adrienne says without enthusiasm.
Arden tosses his hands up. “Among other things.” His gaze is weighted with his omission of the truth.
I look away. “So what does this have to do with me? Arden's my friend,” I laser my eyes back at him, “or was.”
“Still am, Tal,” he says, trying to step nearer. I give him a killer look and he heaves a frustrated exhale, stopping in his tracks, arms dropping to his sides. He doesn't look like Arden, and he doesn't look like Merck.
He looks like a competitive weight lifter.
His deception makes tears sting my eyes. I angrily blink them back and shrug. “Anyway, now what?”
“I assert first rights,” Arden says.
What?!
Merck's jaw clenches. “You don't get to pull that archaic loophole, pup.”
He says pup like chump. I am well-versed in body language and deliberate terminology. I see an explosion coming—a blast to level us all.
“What loophole?” I ask loudly, retreating even further from everyone.
“Claiming,” Merck spits out the word in obvious disgust.
“Nobody is claiming anything, especially me,” I say in a voice of conviction.
Pooky meows her agreement from somewhere in the kitchen and I slap a fierce grin on my face.
See?! My cat even agrees. It's settled.
Arden and Merck turn to stare at me at the same moment.
“So you think,” Adrienne says ominously.
2
Merck
This fucking figures.
A moondamned Masker has reared his head. Claiming first rights on my change.
My female, my mind echoes.
I shove away the internal thought and concentrate on the now.
“I'm not in the business of being an intermediary,” the enforcer states.
I listen to her words but keep my eyes pinned on the vampires. Though they might not be in the business of turning anything. They've already claimed their turn so now what are they doing?
The one named Aeslin steps forward suddenly and punches me in the jaw.
I fall back against the wall—hard. My talons spear the drywall and I use it for takeoff with a howl. I charge, and Adrienne rushes forward as a blur, coming between us.
I move to my tiptoes to escape mowing her over, talons clutching the ceiling like a lifeline as I whip out my free arm for balance.
Adrienne smacks me in the chest and I rock back on my heels. I plant my legs and ready myself for the abuse that three vampires can mete.
But they don't.
“You deserved that, Lycan,” Aeslin says, jaw moving back and forth, fangs fully extended. “You cannot go unpunished for the harm of our female.”
This guy's a broken record but I nod, understanding his perspective exactly, my jaw throbbing from his strike. “Fair enough, but she behaved like it would be her against my transitioning change. I need to get to Talyn.”
Adrienne sighs. “You can't just barge into her apartment, break everything and command her to begin her transition.”
I feel my frown. Why not? After all—it is my job. My only job.
Adrienne's dark chuckle weaves through the space, and one of the vampire's joins in. “What's so funny?”
“Your face says it all. That was exactly your lame-ass plan.” One of her tiger's eye gauges from her earlobe winks back at me in the low light as Adrienne cocks her head.
I shrug. “If it works?”
A breath of disgust shoots out of Adrienne and her vivid eyes slim down on me. “No—pal. Clearly, it didn't work.” She pokes her finger in my chest and the two vamps tense.
“I won't hurt the female,” I say, flicking my gaze to them. But she begs a good male to do wrong.
“No—you won't,” the bald Turner—Matthews—says with an ominous tone of voice.
“That's not how it works for every female.” She shakes her head as though in wonder over my typical method. “It wasn't that way for me.”
Another chuckle, covered by a fist. Adrienne slants a dirty look at the bald vampire and his laughter gives way to a grin.
“Talyn Phisher should be grateful for the relief a transition could mean for her,” I explain in a bland way.
“I would not classify her as especially grateful,” Aeslin comments dryly.
“Why, vampire?”
“Look around.”
I do. The Masker is gone. And with him—Talyn.
Fuck. Heat moves through me like an inferno. Here's what reasoning got me.
Let's talk and work shit out. Nope. Let's chat while another takes my change.
I whirl to leave, and Adrienne grabs my forearm.
I itch to toss her, female or not, so I can scent Talyn and get her before her friend does.
“Don't,” Adrienne cautions in a low voice.
“Why the fuck not?” I ask with true bite.
The vamps pull in beside her like boats coming to harbor.
I rein my frustrated anger back. Getting my ass kicked won't help Talyn.
“Because she's scared. She's not some twenty-two year old unsure woman who thinks you're cool.”
I shrug. “She's female, like every other female.”
Adrienne throws her hair back and cocks a hip. “Are all you Lycans He-Men? You think you're omniscient—like God?” she asks in a coy voice.
My brows come together. I don't have time for philosophy.
I strain forward, hands in fists as my talons dig into my palms. I ignore the posturing of the vampires. “No, I don't think I'm God. I think I'm a Lycan warrior—I change. It's what I do—it's what I've been doing for the last half century before Talyn Phisher came along. I don't need a hybrid vampire female to tell me how to transition.”
“Lycan—have a care with your words,” Aeslin says in a low voice of warning.
I move so fast his hands are sprouted and beside his jaw for a fight. But all I do is remark, “And when are words as good as getting the female who needs their true from—whose very essence begs the male assigned her to change her so the degradation is no more?”
Aeslin's hands drop, and he shoots out a rough exhale.
“I feel for you,” Adrienne says. “I just think you've let the job run in front of the goal.”
I shake my head. “The goal is transitioning Talyn Phisher. It's the only goal.”
My form trembles. I allow myself to melt to human and Adrienne doesn't blink an eyelash.
“You're not going to change her if you force it.”
I look at Matthews, hand on my hips. “And where is she now—with a male who played her for over twenty years?—while in secret—he was a Masker.”
Adrienne pierces me with her gaze. “It's exactly my point. Who does Talyn have to trust now? The one person she felt was in her corner is now maybe the enemy in her eyes.”
“Do you know what a Masker is, Enforcer Adrienne?”
“A shifter who can hide his stench,” she replies with a sarcastic lilt in her voice, giving me a hard gaze.
Cute. I nod. “That's partly it. They're an ancient spe
cies, crossing all supernatural lines. They can be vampire, Lycan, shapeshifter—even fae. It's like nature was making sure they had an ace in the hole—or she couldn't make up her mind.”
“And nature is a she?” Adrienne asks, her lips curling.
The vampires and I say yes simultaneously.
She heaves a sigh of disgust.
I look around the mess of glass and wood all over the house.
Talyn is gone. While I was fighting my nature and trying to talk it out with other supernaturals, the Masker took her.
“Talyn isn't like the females you've changed in the past,” Adrienne repeats.
“Listen—you might be the law, but I'm not taking orders or advice from a vampire. I'm scenting her out and transitioning her. End of story.”
“Have you considered she won't want what you're offering?” Aeslin asks quietly.
“I've never had to force a female once,” I say, offended by his implication.
“Would you?” Matthews asks from the shadows.
“Never,” is my immediate reply.
Though I think Charles would be less scrupulous.
Adrienne sees something on my expression that I can't hide fast enough. “What?”
“I wouldn't,” I clarify. My eyes meet hers. “But there are some who want a female badly enough to make her Lycan whether she wants to transition or not.”
“Who?” Adrienne asks.
I admit to what I can. There are darker truths that have not been earned by the vampires. “Rogues.” I don't concede there are other transgressors besides just that group aloud. As though admitting to their existence is enough to conjure them like a wish.
“Ah,” Aeslin says. “It is not dissimilar from vampires. We have a civilian population, of course, but there is always a group of bad apples...”
Adrienne barks out a laugh. “Bad apples? Nah—I think it's more like bad seeds. Or fangs.” She looks straight at me. “Or claws.” Adrienne smirks. “Anyway, find Talyn, trail her and the Masker—whatever he is,” she waves away the identification of Arden, “but understand the patience of a supernatural that would be her friend for twenty plus years, all that time waiting until she's,” Adrienne rolls her lip into her mouth, “what is the term? Ready?”
“Degrading,” I supply but I'm only half-listening, my mind is already on hunting down Talyn.
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