BOX SET: Shifter 4-Pack Vol 2 (Wolf Shifter, Dragon Shifter, Mafia, Billionaire, BBW, Alpha) (Werewolf Weredragon Paranormal Fantasy Romance Collection)

by Candace Ayers

  “Think about that. Think ‘bout et real hard. What kind of creature’d do that?”

  None of the children spoke. Eyes open wide, they waited for Rick to explain it to them.

  “Don’t think for an instant that that man, or any other was lucky. If luck played into et, then we would have gotten a few licks in ourselves over time. Have a few hides wrapped around a banister here an’ there. No one before this story that I know of ‘as ever killed one of ‘em. And ‘ere we have someone comin’ back. Always do, always will, with a tale of horror and terror.

  “There’s only one kind of creature in this world that does that, and that’s the kind of creature that has a brain, an’ these creatures have brains. They know what they’re doing, an’ they’re fully aware. They’re instilling fear.”

  Rick took his pipe out and looked at each and every eye watching him.

  “And it works!” he suddenly shouted. “God damned it works! I’ll be damned if me or mine are goin’ to go in there! If they want those mountains, let ‘em have ‘em! As long as they stay away from Bruton!”

  Rick Backus took a big gulp of beer angrily and sucked air in through his teeth as the bitterness subsided.

  “But what about Cletus?” Elden Andrews said. “What happened to him? All you’ve told us about is ‘is father.”

  “Well, after an entire day of shouting at the gods…” Rick trailed off and lowered his eyes, “he decided to take action, just like his Pa. Walked to the armory, right past the guards, whose only job ‘twas to keep ordinary citizens from weapons of war. Every single one of ‘em got out of his way. Saw hell in his eyes, they said. An’ ‘e didn’ even have to speak to ‘em. Not one word did ‘e ‘ave to say. ‘E didn’ have to. They knew why ‘e was there an’ knew they didn’t have a chance in hell of stoppin’ ‘im.

  “He suited up. Chainmail, broadsword, crossbow. If ever a man looked ready to topple the heavens it was ‘im that night.

  “He mounted his horse and rode off into the setting sun. Alone.

  “The whole town wept when they saw ‘im leaving. He was our pride and joy. A man we would get behind for anything… anything but follow him into hell, anything but follow ‘im into Bowland Mountains.

  “None of us could believe he wouldn’t wait for morning, but we knew he was so furious at the wolves that ‘e didn’t even care that ‘e was going to them at their strongest hour.

  “All the women turned away from him and wept. And none of the men could look ‘im in the eyes as he rode past. ‘E was a man, and they were but children in the light of ‘im.

  “It wasn’t an hour until the whole town heard ‘im. They must have known ‘e was comin’. ‘E got up on the top of that first ridge and it began. We could hear ‘em. It sounded like ‘e killed a great many of ‘em— as if ‘e were killin’ great demons risen from hell. But we could hear ‘em wearing ‘im down. An ‘is death wasn’t fast, children. It was agonizingly slow. An’ for those of us down here, listening to it ‘twas the worst thing our little hearts had ever had to endure.” Rick took a deep breath and shook his head.

  “When ‘e died it broke any resolve this town had. It broke us through and through. Never again have I heard of any talk of clearing Bowlands.

  “Cletus Spratling, you have to understand, was the best among us. The strongest. The worthiest of all the world had to offer. And if ‘e couldn’t do it, what hope did any of us have?

  “But ‘is death wasn’ for naught. Since that night, the wolves ‘ave stayed in their mountains and we’ve stayed in our town.”

  Rick let everyone soak that in.

  “Why?” someone asked.

  “Wish I could tell ye. But it’s assumed by many that ‘e put the fear of god in ‘em. An’ as long as we respected their space, they’d respect ours. But there’s an ole wive’s tale that says wolves ‘ave memory. An’ if one wolf learns somethin’ the ‘ole pack learns et. That’s what I think. They learned not to mess with Bruton, an’ ‘ave remembered us since. But we’re not so different from ‘em. Their constant howls driftin’ down the mountains ‘ave kept the memory in our blood crisp and sharp, too. I’ll remember Cletus screamin’ to his death ‘til the day I die. An’ I can only hope that ye, in turn, will remember this tale.”

  He finished off his beer and took a long drag from his pipe in silence.

  “Did his father ever come back?” Amber asked, thinking of how it’d be to lose her own father. If her dad was hurt in the Bowlands, she would hike into them, too, to save him.

  “Lords, no.” Rick said. “No, lass, no. The Spratling line ended that night. His mother, gods bless her, died not two months later of grief. Spratling Road was constructed a year later to honor our last warrior, and to remind us of what we lost and what we gained.

  “So children,” Rick said, “not all of me stories have morals but this one sure as gods does. The moral of my story is, if you ‘aven’t already figured it out, is avoid the mountains. Avoid them as if they were a gateway to hell! Don’t bet one another, bully one another, or dare one another into goin’. Don’t think for even one moment that ye will be the one to open Avondale Road, because if Cletus Spratling couldn’t do it, I promise ye, ye won’t do any better. The wolves are still there. They haven’ gone anywhere. The howls you hear at night, snug in your beds, are just as dangerous as they were seventy years ago. They’re hungry for blood, an’ always will be.”

  All the children nodded their heads, wide-eyed in fear.

  Rick was instantly heckled into telling another story and Amber decided to go inside where drunken men demanded more beer and more bread.

  CHAPTER 4

  Dunstan beat up Alan Eddington who was a good four years older than him before school. It was the talk of the whole town. Alan wasn’t a that big of a guy, but he had already amassed height and muscle, and had a nice little patch of facial hair on his chin which he proudly sported— so by all accounts he was starting to be a man. On the other hand, Dunstan was scrawny and malnourished— yet still somehow carrying traces of baby fat around his cheeks despite being underweight.

  The fight wasn’t even close, according to Jessica.

  It was well before school and Amber hadn’t even gotten out of the house yet, but Jessica said Alan made a remark to Dunstan in Town Square before school that Bowland Mountains was where the wild animals lived and that he should go there to be with his kind. Dunstan stopped dead in his tracks.

  Telling the story to Amber, Jessica puffed her chest up and arched her shoulder muscles as Dunstan had. Amber giggled.

  “Alan laughed with his buddies as Dunstan walked towards him, and challenged him,” Jessica said.

  She mimicked Alan’s deep, low voice as best she could for Amber. “Yeah. Sure kid. Bring it on.” She pulled up imaginary britches and sauntered towards Amber.

  Within moments Dunstan had Alan pinned to the ground with his knees on Alan’s shoulders and had at him with both fists. To illustrate, Jessica straddled the ground and mimed punching her fists against the earth. “He would have kept on punching him, Amber, had my brother not managed to pull ‘im off.”

  “Does he look OK?” Amber asked. “Alan, I mean.”

  “No, he looks like he got beat up by a gang!” Jessica said, which was true. When Amber saw him, he had two deep purple circles around his eyes.

  “Dunstan’s twelve, and he’s sixteen!” Jessica emphasized. “It was amazing!”

  It was no surprise to Amber, even though she hadn’t known him long. She knew how he spent his days— climbing trees, chasing after deer, dragging their fallen bodies through the woods. Time had not yet revealed the strength he had accumulated. It was hidden, but rising— coming to the surface like a mighty oak.

  Alan never stood a chance, but Amber didn’t tell Jessica that.

  Jessica went home and Amber went to Town Square to look for him. Dustan rarely went to school anymore, but still hung out nearby.

  She found him lounging in a tree in front of the church.
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  “Why don’t you come to school anymore?” Amber asked him.

  “I can’t deal with the people there right now,” he said.

  “But Jessica says you were hanging out with everyone before school. You obviously want to see everyone.”

  “I was just in the area. But I was also making sure everyone’s still a bunch of cretins, which they are.”

  “And if they weren’t?”

  “I’d consider going back.”

  “So... about Alan. Jessica says he looks horrible, Dunstan,” Amber said. “You went too far.”

  “Well, he said a horrible thing,” Dunstan said and shrugged. “Bad things happen to you when you say bad things.”

  “He was right, though,” Amber said. “You need to clean up. You’re so dirty you’re blending in with the tree.”

  Dunstan smiled and fell backwards, hanging upside down from the branch like a monkey. “Why? I’ll just get dirty again.”

  “So you take another bath!” Amber exclaimed. “You clean up when you get dirty.”

  “I’d have to take a bath every day then,” he said and laughed.

  “People do. People bathe every day.” Amber said.

  “Well, that’s just silly.”

  Dunstan’s shirt slid up and rested against his chin, revealing his skinny, pale body. He was covered in various bumps and scratches, none of which looked concerning— except, however, one batch.

  “What are these?” she asked, pointing to five gashes along his collarbone. They looked like fingernail marks. Like someone had grabbed him and tried to dig his or her fingers into him. “Did Alan do this to you?”

  Dunstan shook his head but didn’t answer, so Amber asked in a different way.

  “How’s your aunt?”

  Dunstan peered at her quizzically.

  “Did she do this to you? Did she hurt you?” Amber asked.

  “She thinks she did.”

  “Why?”

  “Don’t know, but she’ll never do it again.”

  “Did you hit her back?” Amber whispered.

  “Gods no! I don’t hit girls,” Dunstan said, exasperated. “I mean I’m not going back. I’m through with her.” He flipped down to the ground and dusted himself off.

  “Dunstan! No, you have to have a roof over your head!”

  “I’m not going to live anywhere I’m not wanted. You don’t know what she’s like. You wouldn’t live with her if you were me. You’d sooner sleep with one of Ian Chapman’s unbroken horses than sleep under the same roof as her.”

  “So we go and tell someone what she did! The town, the mayor, won’t stand for her hurting you.”

  “Really?” Dunstan asked. “Because the town knows. Everyone knows how she is. It’s not a secret.”

  Amber was about to protest, but shut her mouth. He was right. Jessica had told her. And if Jessica told her that meant she heard it from her mom. Which meant everyone knew.

  “Where are you staying? The tree? The lovers’ tree?” Amber asked.

  “I move around,” Dunstan said. “Sometimes there. Sometimes to…” he stopped himself and didn’t finish the sentence.

  “Where do you go?”

  Dunstan smiled at her and motioned as if he was turning a key beside his mouth, locking the secret away.

  Amber’s heart sank— not so much because he was keeping something from her but because not telling her meant it was somewhere really bad.

  And knowing Dunstan, that could mean any number of things.

  *

  Dunstan only seemed to get worse with time, but Amber thought him more mischievous than anything. Most people thought of him as simply a town ruffian— rough from losing his parents and in dire need of a bit of discipline. To anyone who knew him, though, he wasn’t violent for the sake of being violent. It came from somewhere else.

  Russell Wilson, a boy Amber went to school with, started to think he was the new big bad in town as soon as he started to grow a little taller than everyone in his class. He sauntered and talked tough to anyone who had ears to hear him, even the girls.

  Each day he liked to brag how there was no one in town that could beat him in a boxing match. He had won three in a row recently, having bested Nicholas Yorn, Michael Bartrum, and Jared Stansfield. They were all in the level above him and went to school on odd days, so it was impressive. No one would deny him that.

  He boasted about it and threw imaginary punches whenever their teacher wasn’t around, but it became too much for Jessica to take one morning.

  “Dunstan whooped up Alan Eddington a year ago! Alan’s like four years older than us. You can’t beat Dunstan if Dunstan beat Alan a year ago.”

  Russell waved his hand in the air as if Jessica was a pesky nuisance.

  “Alan ain't nothing. Wasn’t then, isn’t now.”

  Dunstan was throwing a ball back and forth with Rick Lunger, another boy who went to school with them. Rick, like Dunstan, had hygiene issues and would rather spend his days in the woods than at school. But unlike Dunstan, he had a mother at home who beat him silly whenever he skipped.

  “He was only lucky,” Russell resumed. “Surprised Alan is all. You can do a lot to someone if you surprise them well enough.”

  Jessica got Dunstan’s attention. “Dunstan! Russell says he could beat you up!”

  Dunstan looked at Russell and smiled, but bounced the ball back to Rick.

  “See, you don’t even register to him,” Jessica said. “He just thinks you’re funny.”

  Russell pushed Jessica out of the way and marched over to Dunstan. He was about half a head taller than Dunstan when he got in Dunstan’s face.

  “Say it,” Russell said. “Say I could beat you up.”

  Dunstan stepped around Russell to catch the ball.

  “I said say it!” Russell said, getting into Dunstan’s face again.

  “Move it Russell,” Dunstan said. “I’m playing ball.”

  Russell pushed Dunstan in the chest, and got back in his face.

  “You’re nothing. Never have been. Never will be,” Russell said.

  Dunstan rolled his eyes and looked at Amber. Amber grimaced. She didn’t know what he was about to do, but she knew it wasn’t going to be good if he of all people was rolling his eyes.

  Russell put his hands out and said, “What are you going to do? Nothing, that’s what. You’re too afraid. You know I’m not Alan, and you can’t do to me what you did to Alan.”

  Dunstan hopped up and swung his forehead into Russell’s nose, and it exploded in waves of red.

  Russell collapsed to the ground and Dunstan hopped on top of him, pinning Russell’s arms to the ground the same way he had Alan’s.

  “No!” Russell cried. “No, please, no! Please don’t!”

  Dunstan didn’t, but kept him pinned to the ground. His hands were free, and if he chose he could beat Russell to a bloody pulp. But to further humiliate him, Dunstan resumed tossing the ball back and forth to Rick Lunger.

  “Let me off!” Russell yelled and threw his hips up to try to dislodge Dunstan.

  Dunstan ruffled his hair, but kept throwing the ball.

  Amber’s classmates didn’t know whether they were allowed to laugh or not. They thought Russell unpredictable and feared he might toy with them the next time Dunstan wasn’t around, which would be very soon. On the other hand, some figured, Russell had a temper that was unlikely to simmer down either way, so they might as well laugh now and enjoy it.

  William Haven, the mayor’s son, fearfully walked over to Dunstan and said, “I think… I think he’s learned his lesson. You should probably get off of him.”

  “You think so?” Dunstan asked, seriously.

  Russell was crying from frustration.

  Dunstan looked down at him and said, “Yeah, you’re probably right.”

  He got off him, but didn’t offer him a hand in getting up. William did, and Russell angrily slapped it away, blood still running from his nose and streaming down his neck.

/>   “Did that surprise you?” Dunstan said to him, tossing the ball from one hand to the next. “I’m full of surprises, aren’t I? The trick is to not have just one.”

  Russell didn’t respond, but turned away and scampered back home, crying.

  Mrs. Wallis rounded the corner from Hythe street and saw Russell Wilson running away. She furrowed her brow and looked at everyone. Dunstan smiled casually at her and waved.

  “Good morning, Miss Wallis,” he said.

  “Morning, Mr. Conner. Might we be lucky enough to have your company today at school?”

  “No, I’ve got things to do,” Dunstan said.

  Amber and Jessica looked at each other and snickered.

  Mrs. Wallis frowned and said, “Well I’ve set aside the books I want you to read in the library. Come to me when you’ve read them and we’ll talk. Your math is solid. If you want to further your knowledge you’re going to need to go to Ronald Ames at some point. I’ve already let him know you might come over.”

  “OK,” Dunstan said.

  Everyone gasped. “You can do that?” they all murmured. “I want to do that.” “Why’s Dunstan get to do that and not me?” “He’s smart? I didn’t know he was smart.”

  “Come inside,” Mrs. Wallis said to everyone. “It’s time to begin.”

  *

  The side of Dunstan that Amber knew about and no else did was his mischievous side. They only knew the bloody knuckle aspect of him, but he had a dark, dark sense of humor that glowed whenever he thought he might be able to make Amber laugh with it. The worst part was she couldn’t tell anyone, else he’d get into trouble.

  If he ever came to her out of nowhere and asked her to follow him, she knew it was because he had pulled a prank on someone and wanted her to see the victim’s reaction.

  One such morning he threw rocks at her window to wake her before sunrise.

  Groggily she opened her window without looking, knowing it was Dunstan.

  “Hurry!” he said, grinning.

  “Dunstan, no, I was up late helping my parents. Or do you not care?”

  “You can go back to sleep when we come back. Come on out, just for a second.”