by Anya Nowlan
Or that was what Samarra had thought. Instead, Vix seemed pretty comfortable in the dim light, a faint, pale glow shimmering over the cellar from the kitchen’s dark lighting. He barely seemed to need the flashlight as they moved forward together between the cramped, musty shelves.
“Are you a cat of some sort?” she asked, trying to lighten the mood, and to make her own heartbeat settle down a bit.
She figured distraction was the best remedy in this case.
“What do you mean?” Vix asked distractedly.
“You don’t seem to be using the flashlight much.”
“Oh, that. Yeah, I’m a shifter. I don’t exactly have night vision, but I can see well enough,” he said offhandedly, like it was the most normal thing in the world.
Samarra paused for a moment, falling behind Vix a couple of steps. He seemed to sense her absence and stilled as well, glancing over his shoulder.
“What?”
Her question sounded so adorably confused.
While shapeshifters were well and truly ‘out’ in the world, Samarra didn’t personally know any of them. She was aware a lot of the Special Forces those days were practically built on the burly, strong shifters, but she’d never really thought she’d get to spend time with one. Looking at Vix though, it made perfect sense to her why the military would be clamoring to get men like him in its service.
He looked like he had the strength of half a dozen men, and his impressive build made a whole lot more sense all of a sudden as well. She couldn’t imagine airline pilots got a lot of exercise, but Vix looked like he lived in the gym.
“Sorry. I’ve just never met a shifter,” Samarra stammered.
“Oh,” Vix said, quieting for a second. “Yeah, I guess it’s not something people really blurt out randomly. Sorry about that.”
“No, no, no apology needed!” Samarra rushed to say.
It was odd. She was usually a pretty easy communicator but with Vix, everything seemed to come off a little bit awkward. And it had nothing to do with the fact that she didn’t want to be around him or talk to him.
On the contrary, in fact. The moment his truck had disappeared from sight, she’d cursed herself for being such a fraidy cat and not even inviting him to see the haunted house when it was done. Or done anything else for him to realize that she would have wanted to see him again.
But he did say that he wanted to ask me out… so I guess everything worked out in my favor. Aside from whatever this mess we’re in now is.
Butterflies fluttered in her belly as she tracked after Vix quietly. Being around him simply made her feel… good. Even in the creepy, gut-wrenchingly weird moment they were in, she sort of… enjoyed it.
Weird.
He pushed through a door and into the second, smaller storage room. They could only take a few steps before Vix stopped, holding the flashlight up higher.
“This is it,” he said flatly.
“Yup,” Samarra confirmed. “It’s only two rooms. Did you see anything odd?”
“Other than cans and jars from the early 1900s, nope.”
He shrugged, looking intently at the stone wall before him.
“What is it?” Samarra asked, craning her neck.
“Oh, nothing, I guess. It’s almost like I can smell fresh air here, but that makes no sense… we’re underground and there are no doors…”
Vix sniffed at the air and then shrugged again. He slipped past Samarra and her shoulder brushed against his chest, making her spring back a bit. Every time they touched, it felt a little weird. A good kind of weird, but weird nonetheless.
He handed the flashlight to her, as if he thought she needed it to feel safer in the darkness. It was sweet, but she wasn’t that much of a girl.
“So this is a dead end. We better move up and see if we can figure this mystery out there,” Vix said. “You up for more mystery solving?”
“Consider me Velma in this shindig!” Samarra replied with a grin.
“What does that make me then? Scooby Doo?”
“You can be whatever you want to be,” Samarra chuckled.
“Right. I’ll be Fred then, and only revert to Scooby if there are snacks involved.”
Chuckling lowly, Vix stepped out of the small room. Before Samarra could do the same, the door slammed shut behind him.
“What the-” Samarra gasped, but before she could say something, she felt a strong arm around her, dragging her backwards, a hand clamping over her mouth to silence her scream.
The Haunted House of Salem was turning out to be a lot more serious than either she or Vix could have expected!
Vix
“Samarra!” Vix roared, slamming the full might of his body against the door that suddenly closed behind him.
Terror coursed through his veins, icy cold and at the same time blazing hot. His buck was going insane within him. He didn’t need any confirmation or a moment to consider – he knew Samarra was in danger.
Just as definitely as he knew that he could never live with himself if anything bad happened to her.
“Samarra, answer me!” he called, slamming his fists against the door and getting nothing but the dull rattle of wood in response.
What the fuck is going on here?!
Breathing heavily, adrenaline pounding through his veins and his animal demanding to be let out, Vix took a step back. He charged the door, feeling the heavy, ancient hinges creak. The solid, thick door rattled in its place, but wouldn’t budge. So Vix did it again.
And again.
And again, until the wood groaned and whined under the onslaught. Gritting his teeth, Vix charged one more time and this time, he broke through.
The wood splintered and shattered around the hinges, enough for Vix to take hold of it and tear it off the wall. He moved it aside just enough so he could fit through and rushed forward, searching for Samarra. Her flashlight lay forgotten on the ground, shining a thin beam of light into the darkness.
There, where Vix had thought he could smell fresh air, now stood a dark tunnel. Frowning, Vix went up to it, sniffing at the air. He could sense both Samarra and fresh air, as well as a scent that was distinctly masculine, but not of a shifter. Baring his teeth slightly, Vix snarled.
Someone had taken Samarra right from under his nose.
Mine, a single thought rattled through his brain.
Before he could will himself to think more rationally, to do anything to calm himself down, he let the buck take over. Within a second, the air shifted in the cool cellar, as if the very fabric of normalcy was torn and reshaped around his body as he turned.
His wide, muscular frame turned into that of a massive deer, with wide, proud antlers and a thick, glossy coat. His bright blue eyes turned dark and brown and his hooves hit the stone floor, scratching at it as he lowered his head for a moment.
No matter how fast he could run as a human, he could definitely move faster as a buck.
Without further pause, Vix burst into action. He dove into the narrow passage, his antlers scraping at the rough stone walls as he ran through it, his nose leading him ever forward. The path was slanted upwards and when he burst onto the ground, bathed in moonlight, Vix realized he was a couple dozen feet out from the back of the house.
He was staring at a row of hedges that led toward a thicket of forest, the house being at the edge of the town. Following his nose and his instincts, Vix moved forward, determination and anger fueling him with equal force.
There was no way he was going to let Samarra go without a fight.
Her scent became stronger with every long stride he took, the ground disappearing underneath his powerful legs and hooves. It didn’t take long before he could see two struggling bodies trying to move through the underbrush at the beginning of the forest, with one fighting against the other and being dragged along regardless.
Samarra.
The man holding her barely had time to turn around when Samarra screamed at the sight of Vix. The man let her go, raising his hands as
Vix plowed into him, head lowered. He sent the man flying, his antlers first digging into his chest and abdomen. The man groaned in pain, tumbling down to the ground and toppling over in the brushes.
“Thomas!” Samarra gasped, standing with her hand over her mouth.
Vix grunted, digging at the ground with one hoof as his head was still lowered, ready to attack. He was waiting for the coward to get up and face him like a man, though that was probably too much to expect from someone who went around kidnapping innocent women.
Throwing glances at Samarra, Vix ignored the pained whining coming from the bushes as the man struggled to get on his feet. Samarra stood, paralyzed, staring at Vix. She looked pale in the face, even in the faint glow of the moonlight.
At the same time, she looked absolutely breathtaking, as she always did. Never had Vix been so in tune with simple things like beauty, or how much he could want something to be his own…
“V-Vix?” she asked, stammering.
Vix nodded his head mildly, tossing another glare at the downed attacker. He’d still not been able to get up and as far as Vix could tell, he didn’t have a gun on him. With a deep breath, he willed his animal to let go and fell into the shift again.
Samarra’s eyes went wide as she watched him turn, going from proud, impressive buck to a strong, powerful man. He’d barely managed to touch two feet on the ground when he rushed over to Samarra, pulling her into his arms.
“Are you okay?” he asked, hugging her tightly.
To his relief, her arms went around him as well. She relaxed against him immediately and Vix could feel his heartbeat returning to normal.
She’s safe… She’s alright… And she’s here with me.
“I’m fine,” she said, though there was an obvious shudder to her voice.
Vix growled at that, glaring at the man who was now on his knees. The man she’d called Thomas.
“Do you know this prick?” he asked, his voice perhaps sharper than he would have liked.
The last thing he wanted was to scare Samarra. He squeezed her to him tighter for a moment, before loosening his grip on her. She turned to look at Thomas as well, disgust painted on her face.
“So that’s how this is going to be, huh? You leave me and you go off running into the arms of some fucking abomination the moment I look away?” Thomas wheezed, anger evident all about him.
He’d managed to get on his knees now, but not up quite yet. Vix could smell blood in the air. His antlers had definitely punctured the skin. A part of him hoped that they went deep enough to cause real damage.
If Samarra hadn’t been there, Vix was entirely certain that Thomas would be in no state to hold a conversation anymore. It was sort of difficult to discuss anything with punctured lungs, after all…
Thomas was a tall man, though somewhat stocky. He had blond hair and a slight moustache that looked to be the byproduct of a hipster lifestyle, considering by the badly fitting plaid and the fashionably worn and distressed jeans. Everything about him screamed ‘douchebag’, and Vix didn’t think he was jumping to any conclusions at this point.
“If I were you, I’d be watching my fucking tongue at this point. I don’t need to shift to kick your ass, little man.”
Vix tried his damndest to keep his voice as level as he could, but it didn’t really work out that way. There was a very evident layer of threat in his tone and frankly, that was probably for the best.
“Fuck you,” Thomas grunted, heaving himself up on his feet by grabbing onto a tree.
Vix made a move to go after him, but Samarra grabbed him by his shirt and pulled him back.
“No, please. He’s not worth it. Let the cops deal with him,” she said, the color slowly returning to her cheeks.
“Who is he anyway?” Vix asked, ignoring Thomas now that he had Samarra’s attention.
He’d much rather stare into her eyes a while longer than waste his time on sacks of shit like Thomas.
“He’s my… ex. Business partner and boyfriend.”
“Uh-huh,” Vix muttered, glaring at Thomas again, who met him with an equally hateful look. “You having trouble letting go, Thomas?” he asked mockingly.
“This was my idea and Samarra had no fucking right to kick me out of my company,” Thomas spat, coughing at the end of his words.
By the sound of him, Vix was pretty sure that his wounds weren’t superficial. Served him right. Some blood in the trachea could only work to cut him down to size a little.
“Your company? Your idea?” Samarra asked, flabbergasted. “We started the company under your name originally, but that was because I couldn’t afford the fees! I’ve paid you back threefold by now and I bought you out, paying you way more than your side was worth, you jealous prick! You were the one who couldn’t be bothered doing the work and preferred fucking the help!”
Samarra’s voice got higher and more pitchy with each word. Vix had to wrap an arm around her waist again and pull her to him, lest she went and finished Thomas off on her own.
“He’s not worth it,” he whispered into her ear, tucking a couple of strands of hair out of her face. “Isn’t that what you said?”
Trembling with anger, Samarra nodded.
“Good,” Vix confirmed, letting go of her with obvious reluctance. “In that case, Thomas, my friend, I need to introduce you to a couple of nice people in Salem Police Department.”
He strode over to Thomas and before the human could do anything about it, Vix had grabbed him by the wrist, twisted his arm behind his back and clutched the other one as well.
He would have enjoyed nothing more than to take Thomas behind those damn trees and teaching him a lesson about respecting other people and not touching women unless specifically asked to, but he had to agree with Samarra on this one.
Pricks like Thomas needed to get well and truly acquainted with the joys of sitting behind bars to really learn a lesson.
Samarra
“I can’t believe he’d do that,” she said, curled up on the couch in Vix’s hotel room.
“Whackjobs come in all shapes and sizes,” Vix called, before appearing from the kitchenette with two mugs of steaming hot coffee in his hands.
“You think you know someone…”
Samarra shook her head, pulling her knees slightly closer to her chest. Vix gave her the coffee cup before taking a seat next to her on the couch, keeping a respectful distance but not straying too far. That was good. She didn’t want him to be too far away.
“Well, think of the bright side. Odds are he’ll be in jail for a good long while now. Attempted kidnapping is no small matter.”
Vix’s voice would drop immediately whenever the topic of Thomas would come up. In fact, he bristled visibly, like the man made him physically react. Which, truth be told, he probably did. Despite everything, Samarra had to admit that was kind of sweet of him.
Sipping on the coffee, she turned in the seat a bit to face him, instead of leaning on the armrest.
“I didn’t even get to thank you before,” she said with a sigh and a thankful smile. “Honestly, I don’t know what would have happened had you not been there. I don’t think I could have gotten away from him on my own. Maybe I could have reasoned with him…”
“Reasoned? With that prick? No way,” Vix scoffed, taking a big gulp of coffee with a frown on his face.
He set his mug down and threw his arm around Samarra’s shoulder as if it were the most normal thing in the world, pulling her close to him.
“No, there’s no reasoning with men like that. You may still think of him as that guy you knew, but something cracked in him and he’s no longer… well, whatever he used to be. Now, he’s a man who thinks it’s reasonable to go kidnapping people for pissing him off. Didn’t you say he cheated on you, too? As far as I’m concerned, he brought it all on himself.”
His arm around her felt as good as it had all the times before and Samarra found herself cuddling up against the crook of his arm, resting her head on his chest. He r
esponded by squeezing her tighter, entirely protective in everything he did around her.
It had taken another two hours since Vix apprehended Thomas to hand him over to the cops and get done with all the paperwork. Though Vix had given an account of what had happened as well, his main focus seemed to constantly be on whether Samarra was feeling okay, trying to be around her at all times to give whatever support she could have needed.
It was so sweet of him she could hardly bare it.
Like you don’t know what to do with a nice guy anymore….
Not that Vix could be described as your token nice guy. Not by a long shot.
After they’d made it to his hotel – he’d insisted on her staying in his room for what little was left of the night, so she wouldn’t have to be alone – and he’d taken off his jacket, Samarra had seen the tattoos snaking up his arms and how wide he was built. She’d thought that the jacket had added bulk, but boy was she wrong.
This guy was carved out of solid stone, yet he was incredibly comfortable to curl up next to. Best of both worlds.
Though he looked like a hardass, it was obvious that he had a heart of gold beating in his chest. And maybe it was her imagination playing tricks on her, but Samarra kept thinking that she felt his heart beat faster and faster as time went by and the closer she was to him. It sort of echoed what her own heart was doing, oddly enough.
“I still can’t believe all of that actually happened,” Samarra said with a sigh, glancing out the window that overlooked the sleepy town of Salem.
The sun was already rising, bathing the town with a soft, pink and orange light. Vix’s hotel room was in a small family-owned place, on the top floor – the third – with the hotel placed on a small hillside. It was cozy and modern, though still with a twist of old-timey charm. Sort of like the man himself was, if Samarra had to describe it.
“Weird things sometimes happen,” Vix commented gently, one hand moving absently through Samarra’s hair.