Shifter Alpha Claim 1-6 Omnibus

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Shifter Alpha Claim 1-6 Omnibus Page 7

by Tamara Rose Blodgett


  “Yes. He's been patient. Now you have to ask yourself why. Or better yet—how would he even know that she was a hybrid? That makes no sense. If you're a Changer, a Lycan who hunts the hybrid females for transitioning, why would he be any better equipped at figuring out her hybrid status? How is he any more sensitive to Talyn's hybrid status?”

  The only answer I can come up with is the most disturbing of all. “I know she's a different change than ones I've transitioned in the past.”

  Matthews grunts and I waste a glance at him.

  “She is—vampire. She scents different, more. I don't know why. I thought it was because of her age.” I can't keep the frustration out of my voice.

  “What about her age?” Adrienne asks in a sharp voice.

  “She's mature,” I say simply. “It's what makes this such a complicated transition. There's no precedence for a female this old.”

  Adrienne paces away, the malesʼ gaze following her every movement. When she turns, her face tells me she's touched on something. “What if she's special?”

  I nod. Of course she is. I've always understood that Talyn is a unique change. It's part of my incentive to get her transitioned quickly. Pure instinct. And if there's one thing Lycans are, it's relying on their instincts.

  “No,” she throws a palm wave my way, vigorously shaking her head. “No—I mean something rare. A woman that is unique might get picked up on the radar of other Lycans or supes when she otherwise wouldn't. God only knows, they're coming out of the woodwork now. Think, Merck,” she says in a sharp command.

  “I am, vampire,” I lob back just as hard. I'm not an idiot—regardless of what she might assume.

  When the revelation comes to me, it bottoms out my stomach. I forget I'm among my natural enemy, that my jaw's hurting from being hit twice, that Talyn's temporarily out of my sight.

  She's of Lanarre blood.

  It's such a rare exception the possibility didn't surface immediately in my consciousness. Or I had only superficially considered the potential.

  Adrienne watches my internal debate with keen interest. “You've thought of something.”

  Nothing I want to share. It's too critical.

  “Tell me,” she says.

  I look at her, weighing her worth.

  “I won't tell a soul even under threat of torture.”

  A smile tugs at my lips. That I believe.

  Matthews growls at the torture part.

  “I don't need your help. I can find Talyn myself, and I sure as hell don't need a female to give me instructions on a change.”

  A smile curls her lips. “I am honor-bound to confidentiality.”

  I look at the vampires.

  “We would never compromise Narah,” the one named Aeslin speaks for them both.

  Unbelievable. My eyebrows rise. “You compromise her every day that she works this thankless job.”

  Matthews grunts. “True—do you think we like it?”

  “Then why do you allow your female in harm's way?”

  Matthews smiles as though he's a simpleton. “Love, you stupid dog.”

  Aeslin dips his chin in agreement.

  “I am not a dog, and I'm far from stupid.” I hold Matthews dark gaze for a few seconds then shift my attention to Adrienne. “You seem genuine.”

  “I am,” she says, planting her feet wide, and crossing her arms over a bearing that can only be classified as militaristic.

  “The only way that another Lycan—even a Masker—could be aware of her Lycan blood before she began to degrade would be if she were of royal blood.”

  Adrienne whistles. “I know the history of the different supernaturals pretty well now.” Her lips quirk with a private thought, and she gives an eye roll. “Hell, in my field you never know what you'll run into.” Her smile widens into a grin. “So Talyn might be a princess?”

  I shake my head and exhale in frustration. “It doesn't work that way.”

  “What way does it work?” she asks lightly.

  “Her pheromones alert every Lycan within a thousand miles that she's ready to breed. They'll come from everywhere. A regular,” I look at Aeslin and adopt his word, “civilian werewolf will defer to a Changer. They understand our role—its importance to the race.”

  Adrienne's eyes glitter. “But a rogue...”

  Heat infuses me. My talons itch to return to battle-ready mode. I need to get to Talyn. “A rogue will take.” Among others. My fingers close into a fist.

  “Let me help you find her—convince her.”

  I think about it. Finally I go against all principles. For Talyn. It's certainly not for me. Confession is not good for the soul.

  “Our Alpha gave me two weeks to transition Talyn. She's mature and we have other changes. He doesn't want a Changer to waste time on a dead end. He thinks my scenting might be off.”

  Adrienne's chin jerks back. “Why—from what I understand, you Lycan boys are the bomb on smells.”

  I give a small smile. “Yes, well we are. All of us.”

  The statement stands between us as I watch her think about it.

  “So your boss knows you're probably on target, but he doesn't want to waste the manpower on a woman too old to what—breed?”

  “Maybe,” I look her in the eye and decide to spill the truth, “probably.”

  She puts her hands on her hips, looking angry, though I don't know her well enough to tell for sure. “That's bullshit.”

  Yup, angry.

  “So you're running solo, ignoring protocol to transition a change you're barely approved for? That your boss doesn't know might be a Lanarre?”

  The vampires behind her regard me with interest.

  Finally, I reply, “I guess that's about it.”

  “Fantastic,” Narah says with a wink, “I'm in.”

  Aeslin and Matthew groan.

  3

  Talyn

  I jerk my elbow out of Arden's grasp.

  He stops, arms dropping to his sides.

  I go rigid, glaring up at him. “I guess I should thank you. But stop—just stop hauling me.”

  “Talyn,” Arden reaches for me again and I back away, crossing my arms, and jamming my breasts up as I do.

  He looks at my chest.

  I frown.

  Where the hell is my eunuch friend?

  Nowhere, that's where.

  His fingertips graze my forearm.

  “Don't touch me,” I hiss.

  He retreats a step, pegging his strong hands on his hips. “Tal—I can explain all this.”

  “Oh yeah? Well I'm all ears. You've been dragging me for an hour to somewhere and I can't...” I cover my face with my hands. My chest is tight, my breaths—short.

  My house is destroyed. Pooky is by herself.

  I'm with Arden, but he's not Arden. And I know where the hell that tooth came from! Some werewolf guy that thinks “transitioning” me sounds like a great plan.

  And that I should like the plan.

  Well I don't. And I don't like that Arden seems to somehow be a part of all this.

  I have patients. A job where I need to help others. I can't just run off to wherever until all this fun blows over.

  Blows over.

  My face gets hot thinking about it all.

  “You're killing me, Tal—throwing off the Lycan pheromones. It's almost more than I can bear.”

  I can't believe I've been reduced to gender and scent. The insults are piling up like a snowdrift.

  My chin lifts and I stare him in the eye. I notice he's ditched the glasses. Probably a prop all along. “That's just too bad, Arden.”

  He flinches when I say his name. My eyes narrow.

  “Is that really your name?”

  He nods.

  I look around at where we're at and move as though I'll walk off. “Wait!” he calls out loudly.

  I spin and his hand is on me. “Stay within five feet.”

  “What? Why?” My eyes tighten as I yank my arm out of his grip again.r />
  “I can't mask your scent if you're too far away from me.”

  I fold my arms, the steamy summer night swirling around us like fragrant water.

  “At this point, I'm wondering how that's better for me. Let me see,” I begin, tapping my foot, “you pretended to be my friend since high school—”

  “Talyn, I never pretended.”

  He sounds sincere, but I don't give a crap, going on, “And all this time you've been part of this supe community all us lowly humans were blithely unaware of.”

  He's silent so I continue, “Now I'm supposed to let my office slide and the people who depend on me—oh my god—Pooky—and just trot after you like a well-trained dog? No. I will not. And for the record, this is equal opportunity—I'm not ʻtransitioningʼ with Merck either.”

  Arden raises an eyebrow, and I hate that whatever he's become is damn hot. It weakens my resolve.

  Because apparently my pussy is conflicted.

  “Talyn, you're in heat.”

  That's why. Heat. Like a dog! Impossible. I'm barren. “Even if that ridiculousness was remotely true, I can't have kids, remember?”

  It's painful to recite. Yet again.

  Arden dips his chin, scrubbing his hair and making the thick, honey-colored strands stand on end. “That's not exactly true.”

  My heart begins to pound along with the beginnings of a wonderful headache. I massage my temples, my eyes going to half-mast. “Listen—I don't need any more lies. I can't tolerate it and I'm not going to.”

  “I don't expect that.”

  The silence is bloated.

  “I'm a shifter. And I can scent-mask. But my primary identifier is Masker.”

  Shifter.

  I scrutinize his expression and know he's circling some additional and awful revelation. “What are you going to tell me I'm not going to like. Again.”

  His exhale is rough. “All Maskers scent-mask. But not all Maskers shift into the same creature.”

  I take another step backward and he steps closer. “Five feet, Tal.”

  “Yeah, I heard you,” I answer softly, halting. “What does that mean?” My mind spins with the possibilities as my eyes search his.

  “I'm not just a Lycan—I can just shift form. Any form. This is my natural human form.”

  Oh boy. “What do you mean ʻhuman formʼ?”

  Arden sighs softly, his head hanging.

  The wind rustles, lifting my hair around my face. I'm exhausted, hungry and I have my best friend about to confess all his sins—and a sexed out werewolf scenting me out—and maybe a sexed up Arden.

  Things aren't looking good.

  I shift my weight. “Just tell me.”

  “I'm a Mutable shifter.”

  I blink at him. “A what? I thought you were a Masker?”

  “I am. A Masker is what I can do. A Mutable is what I am. The two are not mutually exclusive.”

  “Got you,” I say slowly.

  Arden is insane, and I'm out in the middle of nowhere with him. Not a smart move, Talyn.

  His eyes rove my expression. “I'm not crazy, Talyn.”

  “Uh-huh.” I whip around and run.

  I've never run so fast in my life.

  I don't look behind me, only forward.

  Something blurs past me. It looks like a streak of smoke and dots from the corner of my eye.

  Up ahead I put on a burst of speed, relieved I might have left my crazy ex-friend in the dust.

  I realize that an hour of walking didn't get us further than Falls Park. It's pretty empty at the witching hour.

  Large, one hundred year old trees loom like gnarled guards along the pathway as I sprint past. I slow to a jog, lungs burning, and chance a glance behind me.

  Nothing but the deep soft black of the most silent part of the night unrolls before my gaze. I hunch over, settling my palms on the tops of my lower thighs, gasping.

  I look up. The whisper of the Big Sioux River falls over quartzite boulders, haphazardly arresting and simultaneously pushing the water's progress as the only sound.

  Except a low growl.

  A strip of ghostly grayish-white fur, shakes and whips from my peripheral vision.

  I yelp, hand to heart, and hunt where I saw that streak of gray lightning.

  A large feline prowls closer.

  I know my animals. Biology major, remember.

  Snow Leopard.

  In the middle of South Dakota. Home of the Black Hills—not Central Asia.

  I feel ridiculous. I ask anyway, “Arden?” I whisper his name.

  Muscled fur ripples its way toward me. Large, luminescent eyes stare unblinkingly into my own.

  The big cat stands on its hind legs and the fur of its body begins to scatter like fine pine needles of gray speckled silk, floating on a continuous breeze that ebbs and flows over the plains.

  The cat's muzzle widens into cheekbones, the eyes rounding as the fur sloughs away like water.

  The hind legs become the heavily muscled ones of a man.

  A very, very well-endowed man. The V of his hips cradle everything that makes him male, widening to a broad chest of sculpted muscles.

  My throbbing female parts come to horrible life and I groan again, clenching my thighs together.

  To my shame I notice his face last. The final vestiges of feline melt into the human features of the new Arden.

  I sit down on the sidewalk, looking up at my naked friend, who've I've never had a lustful thought about.

  Until now.

  I look away at the terrific view I just gave myself. Oh my God, if I'm a Lycan, I need to be spayed.

  “So you're a cat?” I finally ask.

  “Cat, Talyn? Really?”

  I give a tired smile, and put my head in my hands. “This may be too much revelation for me at one time.”

  “I can be anything. Nothing prehistoric. That's a special Mutable.”

  “Huh, that's great,” I say in a dreamy voice. I rock back on my elbows, uncaring of the hard and pebbled surface of the asphalt walkway. My arms drop as I fall backward. I stare up at the black sky, only slightly obscured by the light pollution of the city. I blink slowly, my limbs feeling tingly and numb.

  “Talyn?” Arden asks from somewhere far away. “Don't you faint on me.”

  “Why not?” I ask in a slur. “You can make yourself a dragon and fly away. I'm not that heavy to lift, surely.”

  “You're not making sense, Tal.”

  That gets my focus all sharpened up again. “I'm not making sense?” I laugh, sitting up and flailing my arm wildly. “I thought I had a wolf problem. I thought I had a stalker problem. No. That's not it. I have a problem with a lot of things. My best friend lied to me. He's actually a shapeshifter who can take any shape, and he's hanging around me like a groupie because why?”

  Arden stands before me naked as the day he was born, or from when he was birthed from a litter.

  I give a hysterical giggle and slap my hands over my mouth. There's no amount of psych training that can help me here.

  He puts his hands on his hips. Mighty distracting. I blink rapidly, trying to displace the image. Still there.

  “Because a Mutable can sense his perfect mate. She does not need to be mature, or in heat for a Mutable to understand her rightness for him.”

  I scramble to my feet. “You mean to tell me you befriended me twenty years ago because you knew I was ʻthe oneʼ?” I half-scream as my fingers airquote the words.

  “That's dumbing the concepts down in a way I'm uncomfortable with, but essentially, you have the crux of it.”

  I swallow my fear, uncertainty and just the pure surreal quality to Arden's admission, the situation—my lack of sleep. It's a combination that's making me giddy.

  “I—I've got this Lycan guy too.”

  “I can take care of the Changer.”

  Take care of.

  I shy away from the implication of that comment and dig for more information. “But from what he says—if he's no
t lying too—” Arden's eyes tighten but I go on, “I'm supposed to be a werewolf.” I splay my fingers against my chest.

  “He probably hasn't figured out what you really are. Only certain females are acceptable mates for a Mutable. I did what I could to mask your scent as much as possible but when you began to degrade and go into heat...” he spreads his hands. “My talons were tied. You were bound to be found.” A small smile ghosts his lips.

  Talons were tied. “Not funny,” I seethe, “what am I?”

  “You have royal blood. Shapeshifters who possess royal blood generally can mate with a Mutable.”

  I bark out a laugh. “So if I was a dolphin you could just fish me up?”

  Arden smile grows, and I try for eye contact, though I'm ashamed at how difficult it is for me not to peek at his package, especially given the state I'm in.

  I suppose that means I'm not tired enough. If I was truly weary and shocky over tonight's great happenings, I wouldn't be contemplating his assets.

  “You are Lanarre—Lycan royalty. You can mate with a Mutable, or a Lycan, of course. But it would be a waste to have you with anyone other than a Mutable.”

  “Right,” I say with sarcasm, “because you are a Mutable.”

  Unbelievable.

  “Correct,” he replies so neutrally I laugh again.

  Arden frowns.

  “You're as bad as that Merck guy. You two can't see the forest for the trees. I'm a person! Not some brood mare to birth everyone kids. Besides, I can't have kids.”

  “True, you can't have children with a human male.”

  His words drop like a lead weight in my brain. My eyes lock with his. “What do you mean? And don't you dare yank my chain on this Arden. I don't care if you're naked right now. Or that you can change into a donkey, hippo or whatever—don't play me over my infertility.” I bite my lip to keep it from trembling. I can't even admit to myself how deeply sad I am that I'll never have children.

  I'm fully aware it's a horrible world to bring children into.

  Even with all I know of humanity, I still want to have children.

  Arden walks slowly toward me, and to my credit, I don't look down.

  He cups my face and I breathe in his scent, going liquid in all the most dangerous places. “How come I feel this way?” I ask softly, dizzy over his effect on me.

  “Because of what you really are, Talyn. And what you could be with me.”

 

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