First Bite - Shifter Romance Box Set: Anthology of First in Serials and Series
Page 34
“Oh.” She started toward Lora, but then stopped. Turned. “Are you gonna take your shots?”
“My shots?”
She cut her gaze toward the unblemished target. She didn’t want those wolves to think she’d gotten him off the hook. Maybe it’d be hard for him, but she believed he could do it. And if he was supposed to be an alpha someday, he needed to show them what he was still capable of.
He let out a long exhale and took the rifle back from Adam.
Adam took a few steps back and plugged his ears as Anton raised the gun. She did the same, cringing all the while.
She worried for a moment that he wouldn’t do it, as he was taking so long to line up his shot, but then he pulled the trigger five times in a row without pausing.
Two shots dead center, two just outside, and one in the head.
Not bad at all, even if he’d been uncertain.
He handed Adam the gun again and scooped up Christina’s hand as he approached her side. “Slow,” he whispered.
“But you got it right. That’s what matters.”
“Being slow out in the field can get me killed.”
They followed Lora up the path and back into the mansion.
“I’ll practice with you. Maybe you can teach me how to hit something smaller than a Cadillac.”
“I think you’re probably a better shot than that.”
“Nope. Can’t shoot so great if your hands are shaking.”
“The Queen is a pretty good shot,” Lora said. “As is her cousin, Nadia. They can probably teach you how to compensate for boobs, if you want the practice.”
Anton gave Christina a nudge just before they started up the stairs to the second floor. “I’d much rather you have a gun than fur, little wolf.”
The more Christina thought about it, the more she liked the idea, herself. She’d hoped that having her wolf ready and available would make her less useless, but perhaps she didn’t need that after all.
Epilogue
“Changed my mind.” Anton snapped magnets onto two corners of the black and white ultrasound photo and straightened it on the refrigerator. “Don’t want you carrying a gun.”
“You’re overreacting.” Christina grabbed her bagged lunch from the refrigerator, along with her thermos, and headed toward the door. “I’m no different today than I was yesterday, and you were fine with me carrying yesterday.” It wasn’t like she carried the darned thing in her waistband or close to her belly at all. She kept it where most civilized women did—in her purse, and with the safety on.
“I was never fine with it.” He raced around her and barred her exit at the door. “I simply tolerated it because I don’t like arguing with you.”
“It was either that or the bite.”
“And I’m not biting you.”
“For the moment.”
“Ever. Why fix what’s not broken? You’re not broken, little wolf.”
She sighed, reached up, and gave the hair over his blind eye a flick. At least he’d stopped hiding it from her, though he still tied on a patch before leaving the house on most days.
“Nothing’s going to happen to you here,” he said.
A loud boom from the general direction of Norseton rattled the windows.
She raised an eyebrow at him.
“What the fuck?” He plucked his cell phone from his flannel shirt’s pocket and dialed out. “What the hell was that?” He furrowed his forehead as whoever was on the other end of the connection talked.
She yanked his shirtsleeve. “What’s happening?”
He covered the mouthpiece. “I was right. Nothing’s going to happen to you, because I’m not letting you go anywhere.”
“What happened?”
“Guys at Norseton detonated a suspicious package out in the desert. Mailed in.”
She might have clutched her pearls if she had any.
“I’ll be over there in a few minutes to sniff it out,” he said into the phone before disconnecting. “You, stay home.”
“No. Threat’s been minimized, so I’m going to work. I’ve got a lot to do.” And she liked her job. She’d had first pick because she was the first of the mates to go and ask. She spent her workdays in the mansion’s library, scouring newspapers and the Internet for leads on the Afótama’s missing people. It was tedious, sure, but it engaged the same part of her brain that taking things apart did. She got lost in the work, and because it truly had to be done, she felt useful while doing it, even if she didn’t find something to report every single day. The Afótama had gone decades without viable leads on some of their missing, and in just a few months, she’d helped them find three.
Anton folded his arms over his chest and stared down at her in that not really terrifying way. Maybe it was terrifying to the others, but to her, he was just her big, cuddly wolf.
“I’m pregnant, not helpless.”
“If anything happens to you—”
She wanted to hear the rest of that if statement, but knew if he got it out, he’d set his mind on keeping her at home. He tended to jump to conclusions and stick to them when it came to her wellbeing. Typical overbearing wolf, but he was at least sweet about it. “Nothing’s going to happen to me. There’s no safer place to be than inside the mansion, right?”
His nod came slowly. He had to know it was true. Maybe it wasn’t evident from the outside, but that place was reinforced to withstand Armageddon.
“Walk me there? You were heading that way anyway.” She crooked her elbow for him.
After a moment, he took it and opened the door. “I swear, if being half-blind doesn’t get me killed, you will.”
“You’re being dramatic.” She grabbed her purse off the hook before stepping outside. “Your uncle said it himself. We’re an alpha pair. I’m supposed to be a help to you, not a hindrance, so let me do my part. That’s all I’ve been trying to do, all along.”
“I just want more for you. You deserve more.”
“I have more than most wolves do.”
“And that’s a damned shame.” They moved up the path at a clip that wasn’t quite running, but close. With her short legs and decreased lung capacity, Christina could barely keep up, but somehow managed. In another few weeks, she’d probably need a golf cart to get to and from work. Baby Girl Denis wasn’t being so kind to her mother’s pelvic floor.
“It’s an opportunity,” she said, yanking his hand to slow him down.
He did, and grimaced. “Sorry. I could carry you, if you want.”
She grinned. “I can walk.” And they did, at a much more reasonable pace. “We’ve got an opportunity here to build something from scratch. Start something new. We don’t have to be like all the other packs—so transient and sending our little boys away when they become some stupid perceived threat to the leaders. Why do they have to be a threat? Isn’t it better to keep ’em and be strong?”
“Sure, it’s better. It’s just not the way things are usually done.”
“Well, let’s change things. I wouldn’t let you send me away. I’ll be damned if I let you do it to my boys.”
“Boys, huh?” He chuckled.
“Well, I’m sure there’ll be more than one at some point. Basic statistics.”
“We have a long time before we have to worry about it, but I’ll do my best to make it right for you.”
“For us.”
“That’s right. For us.”
The End
To receive notifications of Holley Trent’s new paranormal romance releases, subscribe to her newsletter.
To learn more about the next Norseton Wolves story coming this summer—Loner—visit the miniseries page on Holley’s website.
More Norseton Wolves
To receive notifications of Holley Trent’s new paranormal romance releases, subscribe to her newsletter.
To learn more about the next Norseton Wolves story coming this summer—Loner—visit the miniseries page on Holley’s website.
About Holley Trent
Twitter: @holleytrent
Facebook
Website
A Bear of a Reputation - Greyelf Grizzlies #1- Ivy Sinclair
When the alpha claim of the Greyelf bear shifters goes up for grabs, news reporter Maren Lene is ready to capture what is sure to be the story of the decade. She’s confident she can maintain a professional distance from the man with the solidest claim to be the new alpha, who once also happened to break her heart.
Lukas Kasper thought he escaped his troubled youth in Greyelf, although the scars remain. When his older brother, the alpha of the Greyelf Clan, dies unexpectedly everyone expects that he will rescind his alpha claim. But what Lukas wants is to find out the truth about his brother’s death.
Lukas arrives home he finds himself the center of town gossip and front page news for the Greyelf Gazette. All the attention and hostility directed at him seems to be originating from a single source: Maren Lene, the girl he let get away. Soon sparks fly between Lukas and Maren, but Lukas needs Maren’s help to find the truth. Along the way, he begins to realize there might be more than one reason to stay in Greyelf and lay claim to what has always rightfully belonged to him.
Copyright
Copyright 2015 Smith Sinclair Books
ebook Edition
Cover Design by Charity Hendry
ebook Edition, License Notes
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to the online retailer of your choice and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
Chapter 1
I couldn’t sleep well, even on the best of nights. It went back to when I was a kid. I used to have horrible visions that monsters waited underneath my bed to gobble me up whole. It wasn’t because my parents were reading Grimms’ Fairy Tales to me, either. At the time, shifters were finally revealing themselves to the world and asking to be treated equally and fairly. There were so many suspicions and doubts and fears on both sides. It’s amazing that the world made it out the other side in one piece. Mostly, anyway.
In our back corner of the world in rural Minnesota, the impact was felt more profoundly than others for a couple of reasons. First, it was discovered that our rinky-dink town of Greyelf sat at the intersection of territories claimed by several varieties of shifter clans. It made for many a terse council meeting as dividing lines were drawn and the policies and procedures that facilitated everyone just getting along were documented and agreed upon. The second reason, though, had to do with a man named Markus Kasper.
Markus was a bear shifter who had the charisma and good looks that caused the media to draw comparisons between him and a young JFK. His articulate arguments and ability to negotiate like no one’s business brought him to the center of the worldwide human–shifter debate that year. Markus just happened to be a resident of Greyelf and the alpha of the Greyelf Grizzly Clan.
Markus and Greyelf made national news for an entire year as shifter clans and humans figured out how to work and live beside each other. The work done here was held up as the shining example for all. That was why my father, a hardened news reporter from Chicago, decided to uproot his family and move us to the wilds of Minnesota. He bought the local newspaper and set up shop thinking that, as long as Markus Kasper lived there, Greyelf would continue to be the pulse of the nation. He figured he’d eventually have to win some kind of prestigious newspaper award by being here.
For a ten-year-old kid, moving anywhere beyond the comfort of your school and neighborhood was scary enough. But then to be put smack-dab in the middle of a maelstrom of humans along with bear, wolf, panther, and coyote shifters was frightening. The world was too quiet out in the back country, so unlike the city. It took me months to adjust and for my mother and father to talk me back into sleeping in my own bed. But I never rested easy, although I slowly accepted the new, strange world that I lived in along with the rest of the world.
My uneasy pact with sleep was the reason that I sprang awake immediately when the old police scanner went off in the other room that served as my office next to my bedroom. My eyes were immediately drawn to the clock. It was just 2:00 a.m. Nothing good ever happened in Greyelf at 2:00 a.m.
As the last vestiges of sleep left my mind, I dropped my feet to the floor and immediately tucked them into slippers. The floors of my creaky house were cold even on the warmest of summer nights, and the weather was just slipping reluctantly from winter to spring. This year it seemed particularly intent on holding us in its icy grasp for as long as possible.
I pulled my sweatshirt off the bedpost and slipped it over my head even as I moved toward the doorway to the next room. I honestly couldn’t remember the last time the scanner had gone off at this time of night. I figured old Ricky Rooney had probably gotten picked up again for being drunk and disorderly. It was almost amusing at this point. Old Rooney lost his driver’s license sometime before I was born. That didn’t stop him from pedaling all over town on a bicycle, proving to be a bit of a menace on the roads at all hours of the day and night. I was waiting with bated breath for the day that I would be writing up his obituary. To that end, the apple hadn’t fallen far from the tree. I was coming up on my three-year anniversary working for my father’s newspaper.
Padding across the rug that separated my bedroom from my office, I heard the crackle of static, and then a male voice came through the speakers again.
“Bear down off Shulman’s Trail. Got caught in one of those rusty old bear traps. He’s hurt real bad.” That was Deputy Billy Miller. My cheeks flushed even as I heard his voice. I had been ducking Billy’s calls for over a week now.
“Who is it?” replied a wizened, raspy voice that carried years of cigarette smoking in it. Magda Pern was a fixture in the Greyelf Police Department. She’d been running the front desk for forty years, and I was certain if Magda had it her way, she’d be running it for forty more. She could also be counted on to keep the Greyelf gossip mill fully informed of all of the goings-on around any formal police investigations—not that there were that many. Magda was one of my best sources. I glanced at my liquor shelf on the other side of the room. I kept it stocked with maple bacon bourbon for just this kind of occasion.
“Hard to tell,” Miller replied. His voice sounded strained and out of breath. “He’s still phasing back, but it looks like he’s stuck halfway in between. I’ve never seen anything like it.”
Phasing. That was a word that had been added to Webster’s dictionary ten years ago. Shifters were quite particular about how to describe their transitions between their two physical forms. It was part of my job as a reporter to be as accurate and sensitive to my readership as possible.
“I’ve got an ambulance on its way,” Magda said. “But they had to do a run down to Culver Creek, so it might be awhile.”
There was a long pause. “I don’t think it’ll matter.” Miller’s voice was flat. “He’s gone. Christ, Magda. I’m pretty sure it’s Markus Kasper.”
I felt my heartbeat stop for a moment, and I froze in place. Time stood still for a moment as a pair of dark-green eyes invaded my thoughts. Then it sped up again, and I moved across the room to the scanner. My hands hovered above it as I willed what I had just heard not to be true.
“You’re fucking kidding me, right?” Magda had a mouth on her like a sailor. I always figured that’s why she fit in so well with the cops.
“You can’t tell anyone about this, Magda. Not one peep!” Miller said. I understood the urgency in his voice. “Get Sheriff Monroe over here now. He’ll have to tell me what to do next. This is way out of my league.”
I turned the scanner off. I didn’t need to hear any more. I needed to go. I tore into
my bedroom and grabbed the first pair of jeans that I could find. My cell phone was charging next to my bed, and I dialed my dad’s number even as I slid my jeans on.
He answered on the first ring. “Somebody better be dead.”
“Markus Kasper,” I said. That was the way of our relationship. Neither one of us was much for small talk or any kind of bullshit. “I just heard it on the police scanner. Something about getting caught in a bear trap out on Shulman’s Trail, and now he’s dead. Obviously, I’m missing some of the details.”
“Jesus Christ! The Summit is next week,” my father said.
Naturally, that was the part of the story that my father was focused on. Earl Lene had been chasing the big story for most of his career. I knew that was how he’d look at this scoop, with the critical eye of a hardened reporter who had heard and seen it all. I understood it, but the news of Markus’s death was hitting me hard for a completely different reason. Markus’s connection to an earlier part of my life still smarted despite the passage of time.
“What do you want me to do?” I asked. I was dressed and had my bag slung over my shoulder. Inside were my notebooks, recorder, and maps for every square inch of Fulton County. I had crawled through a lot of muck and mud to get the real scoop for my stories. Earl expected no less.
“Was it an accident?”
“I don’t know. They didn’t say,” I said.
“Get your butt over to the hospital. See what you can dig up there. I’ll head over to the police department.”
“Sheriff Monroe is going to have his hands full. He’s not going to have a lot of patience for you or any questions,” I reminded him. To say that my father and Sheriff Monroe had a tenuous relationship at best was an understatement.