Soulshift

by Arizona Tape

  I supposed they could try turning their human lover, but that was far more difficult than even the most complicated human fiction made out. Vampires were born, they weren’t made.

  “Ayra…”

  “A while, Marcus. Okay?”

  “Not really. You’ve been doing this too long. You need to feed.” I knew his concern came from a good place, but it was still a little tiring. If only he’d leave me to make my own terrible decisions.

  “I’m not dead yet, am I?”

  “You’re a vampire,” he deadpanned. Oh yes, okay, so technically, I was kind of dead. But not dead dead. Just not normal living. It was weird, and complicated, and I’d given up on trying to understand when I was barely into my teens. My Mother had been dismayed.

  “I’m also not keeling over. What’s you point?”

  He sighed again and pushed a hand through his auburn hair. “Prolonged denial is only going to hurt you, Ayra. One day, you’re going to snap, and then what will happen?”

  “I’ll faint?”

  “Or you’ll go crazy and rip someone’s throat out.” He looked genuinely concerned, which was the only reason I was still seated and not storming off.

  “No one’s done that for decades,” I muttered. It wasn’t even a lie. The last vampire who’d done that was Jack the Ripper, and everyone knew he’d been a few fangs short of a set of dentures.

  “And you could be next.” He got to his feet. “I’m sorry, I need to get back to the office. But please, feed. I don’t want to wake up to the morning papers talking about the new vampire murderer on the block.”

  “No one reads the papers anymore,” I pointed out, and he scowled.

  “Not the point.”

  “I’ll think about it,” I allowed.

  “Ayra…”

  “I said I’ll think about it,” I repeated, meeting his gaze with a look of my own that said I wouldn’t be relenting. He should know my opinions on blood by now.

  “Fine, I’ll see you next week?”

  “Oh, are you not going on Saturday?” Well, that was disappointing. Sian was busy, so I’d banked on having Marcus to keep me company at the local vampire festival. They had it once a year, and humans came from all over the world dressed as us. I loved going to watch how they all did it. I couldn’t even decide which people were my favourite. It was either those that covered themselves in roll-on glitter, or the ones that wore so much black it looked like they were a Victorian undertaker.

  “Of course, I just forgot,” he reassured me, grinning widely and flashing me a little bit of fang. I giggled. Some people might mistake it for flirting. If they did, I’d just have to tell them what happened the time he tried to kiss me. It’d been a painful attempt for his balls.

  “Good. See you Saturday.”

  “See you later.” He waved his hand as he walked off, and I rose to my own feet, collecting my things as I did.

  I left the coffee shop, mulling over what Marcus had said. He did have a point. I didn’t want to be the next infamous vampire murderer. But that also didn’t mean that I wanted to feed. Wow, I sounded crazy even to myself.

  The walk back to the office was short, but the park I went through was super pretty, so I walked much slower than I had to, almost meandering. No one would say anything. They were too inherently scared of me to. I hated it. There was nothing like knowing everyone’s instincts were scared of you.

  I took another step forward, but stopped when my head went a little fuzzy. This wasn’t good. Though at least it hadn’t gone black again. I clutched my head as my eyes became less focused, only able to see the colours around me, and not the objects.

  A dull throb and ache pounded through me, and I knew something was coming. Though I had no idea what.

  Chapter 6

  I rubbed my forehead. What was with all the damned pain? I'd never experienced headaches like this before, not even when I'd really denied myself blood. Though it had been a while. Maybe I should drink more. But then, even the idea of that made my stomach churn.

  Or it normally did. I wasn't actually feeling normal right now. Other than the stabbing in my head, and the odd burning smell that seemed to surround me, I felt fine. No. More than fine. I felt great. Far better than I'd felt any other time, except…

  Slowly, I opened my eyes, only half surprised to find myself stood in an unfamiliar kitchen, and an oven dish caked in charcoal in front of me. I wrinkled my nose. That definitely hadn't been me. I rarely burned anything, and my food was always edible. I prodded it with my finger, pulling it back when I realised how hot it was. Hmm. Maybe not the best idea, Ayra.

  I looked around me, noticing a tall, state of the art fridge at the other side of the kitchen. Obviously whoever's body it was that i was currently inhabiting had taste. And the money to apply it.

  They also probably wanted dinner. Not the swapee, who I assumed to be the same Tate I'd swapped with before. And perhaps the man she seemed to be with. I should really find out what Tate - no, I - looked like at some point.

  But first, dinner. I didn't want to get poor Tate into any trouble if that was what she was supposed to be doing. Picking up the burnt dish, I dropped it into the sink, filling it with hot soapy water so it could soak. I hated working in an untidy kitchen, something Tate didn't actually seem to mind. Just a little annoying, but I'd deal with it.

  Having done so, I made my way over the fridge and pulled the door open, looking inside to see what I could make. My heart sunk. This wasn't what I'd call a healthy fridge. Even so, there was chicken, butter, and milk. So long as I could find some flour and eggs, I had the making of a pretty decent pie. Then I'd be able to work out what the hell to serve it with. Really, I was just grateful Tate hadn't tried to do anything with the chicken. If I ever met her, I'd have to teach her how to cook. If we were going to carry on swapping, then I couldn't just keep cooking. Especially not when I was supposed to be at work.

  Shit. Work. I wasn't even there when we switched, and I doubted there was any way for Tate to find her way to my office. I was likely going to have a lot of explaining to do tomorrow. I could just picture it now.

  "Sorry David, didn't mean to not come back from my lunch break, I somehow magically switched bodies with someone. Oh, you might find it more believable if you knew I was a vampire and that magic was real." Cue me showing some serious fang. It was the only way people tended to believe.

  Oh well, not a lot I could do about that right this second. For now, I was Tate. Also, I was getting to use a state of the art kitchen to cook in? That was my kind of heaven really. Maybe once I got the pie going, I'd see if I could find the ingredients to bake with. I didn't do it very often, Sian wasn't a fan of sweet things. Other than me apparently. Or that was what she always said when there were sweet treats on offer.

  Though what if Devon didn't like sweet things either? Hmmm. That'd be a problem. But then, I didn't know him, so it would just be an accident.

  I hummed to myself as I cooked, happy to find all the ingredients I needed, as well as some slightly funny looking potatoes, but I could scrub them. Besides, it probably wouldn't kill anyone. I somehow doubted Tate was any more human than I was. It seemed unlikely for magic to affect humans anyway, though I didn't know that for sure really.

  I stuck the pie in the oven, glancing at my watch to check what time it was. Wait… Since when did I wear a watch? Oh right, yes. Not me at the moment. It had just gone half-five, which seemed odd given I'd left the coffee shop just before four. But then again, I always lost track of time while I was properly cooking. And I'd made everything from scratch. Between both mine and Sian's work patterns, it was hard to find the time to cook completely homemade, and if I was honest, I missed it. There was something about creating a delicious meal I found inherently satisfying. Now all I needed to do was clean up a bit, and start on the cookies I had planned. The ingredients had been a little dusty, but they'd still be fine, it wasn't like golden syrup could go off.

  "Honey?" a deep male voice cal
led from where I was pretty sure the front door was. Butterflies sprung to life in my stomach. Yes, I was definitely Tate then, because I wasn't about to forget that voice, nor the odd comfortable feeling I'd had around its owner.

  I worried the edge of Tate's apron, not quite sure what to do with myself. I could hear him getting closer too. But this time, I didn't have a head injury to hide behind. So what did I do now? Did I pretend to be Tate completely? Or did I just outright tell him who I really was? Would he believe me? Was there anyway to stop all these questions running through my head? No. Probably not, that was what came from dating a teacher for four years. Questions were just a part of daily life.

  "It smells good in here," he said as he appeared in the door. Wow. It looked good in here too.

  No, down Ayra.

  He was not your mate. One. Not your one. Mate was a shifter word. Damn, he'd turned my head to mush just by appearing. This was not going well for me.

  "Thanks," I murmured, still very unsure of myself. Devon stepped into the room, and towards me, dropping a chaste kiss on my cheek. Well, that was disappointing.

  "Did you get someone in to cook?" he asked, dropping his bag on the side, and shrugging out of his coat, his white shirt stretching over his strong shoulders. Drool worthy.

  Damn it, Ayra. He wasn't for you.

  "No." I frowned at him, wiping my hands on the apron. They were feeling a little sweaty I had to admit, which was unusual. That wasn't a reaction I normally had to, well, anything.

  "Oh." He seemed a little taken aback. Shit, had I acted really out of character? Sure, it hadn't seemed like Tate was a great cook or anything, but she'd been trying? Surely that shouldn't come as too much of a surprise to him?

  "Cookie?" I asked, passing the plate. I watched eagerly as he picked one up and tried it, his expression changing from wary, to blissed out in seconds.

  "These are really good, Tate."

  I blushed, though at the same time, my heart also did a weird stutter thing. Turned out it did not like being called Tate by him. And that wasn't anything to do with it just not being my name. At least, I didn’t think it did.

  "Thanks," I murmured again.

  "What did you do today?" he asked, pulling two wine glasses out of the cupboard off to the left. I'd found them there earlier when I'd been looking for a pan. That was the problem with cooking in someone else's kitchen, there was no recognisable organisation.

  "Erm...the usual." That was safe, right? If Tate had done what she normally did before I'd arrived, then she wouldn't say anything to contradict when she came to take her body back. And she hadn't seemed to be doing anything extraordinary, at least not if the skin-tight, but still comfy, jeggings and tank top were anything to go by. Admittedly, not my first choice of attire, I preferred dresses, or maybe even skinny jeans and pretty tops, but I could think of far worse things to wake up suddenly wearing.

  "Of course." Devon sounded a little disappointed, which made me wonder why. Was he disappointed in Tate normally? That just made me wonder what she was like. "How's Lola?"

  Ah, fuck. Who the hell was Lola.

  "Erm, yes, good," I answered nervously, finally turning away from him and back towards the stove where some frozen vegetables I'd found were simmering away. If I couldn't deal with the questions, better do something useful.

  "Tate, are you okay?" Devon asked, wrapping strong arms around my waist from behind. This wasn't like the other day at the zoo. Not at all. This was far more intimate. And I liked it. A lot. And not just because he smelled of the sea breeze I loved. I'd always thought that was something to do with Sian, but maybe I was wrong. Maybe the smell had more to do with me.

  Despite knowing I shouldn't, I leaned back into him, enjoying the hardness of his chest against my back. So different from my soft pliant vampire back home. I pushed thoughts of Sian aside, they seemed highly inappropriate right now.

  Gently, he turned me around so I was facing him, looking up into his dark blue eyes that were filled with a need that I recognised. It was the same need I saw in my own eyes when Sian wasn't in the mood.

  I licked my lips, surprised my tongue didn't catch on my slightly longer canines. Or at least I was, until I remembered I didn't have them in this body. Damn, this would take some time getting used to.

  Devon's eyes appeared to unfocus slightly as they tracked its journey. Okay, so he and Tate had a healthy relationship, not sure how I felt about that one.

  He lowered his head slowly, and pressed his lips against mine. Instead of freaking out, which was probably the reaction I should have, I found myself kissing him back. The firm pressure of his lips against mine sent tingles through me. This was what I'd been missing, someone else who'd take what they wanted, not always making it so I was having to lead.

  Devon pulled me closer with a firm hand on my back, and I moaned into his mouth, unable to quite contain myself. I arched my back into him, feeling how hard his body was against mine. All of him. Images of him setting me on the marble side, my clothes a discarded in a heap on the floor and Devon standing between my legs, equally as naked, flitted through my mind. Except that he wasn't just standing. His hands were touching my naked skin, his lips grazing against my neck, his…

  NO!

  I broke the kiss and twisted out of his arms. This wasn't right. This wasn't right at all. I might not be in my own body, but I was still me, and I couldn't do this to Sian. She was my mate. No, damn it, Ayra. She was my one. Stupid brain thinking about mates all the time. What was that all about?

  "Tate?" He looked adorably confused as he said her name. But then, there was the problem. He thought I was her. He'd almost been making me believe I was her. And that wasn't fair to any of the four of us.

  "I can't, Devon."

  "I know," he said sadly.

  Huh. That was odd. How could he know? He didn't know I wasn't his fiancée, did he? No. He couldn't. It just wasn't possible.

  Enough was enough. Turning on my heels, I fled down the hallway and into the small bathroom I'd noticed earlier. I leaned on the sink, breathing heavily, half in desire, and half in something a lot more worrying. I ran the cold tap, cupping my hands under the stream of water and splashing it over my face, hoping the coolness would refresh me. I glanced up at me, and my eyes stared back as I looked in the mirror. Except, no. Those weren't my eyes at all. My eyes were sea green with small specks of blue. Yet the eyes staring at me could only be described as cerulean, vivid, and captivating. But definitely not mine.

  My breathing quickened as the panic began to set in. This wasn't good. Not at all. I recognised this feeling, and it wasn't one I ever enjoyed. Trying to take deep breaths, I focused on Sian in my head. Her beautiful dark eyes, and her face framed in a halo of blonde in the mornings. The softness of her hands on my skin, and the small breathy moan she made in bed together. Except that it no longer seemed like enough. It no longer seemed right. Something had changed between us in the past few days, and I didn't think it was any conscious decision on our parts.

  I needed to see her.

  "Please," I whimpered, desperate to get to the bottom of what was going on. Sian was logical, Sian was good at thinking. Sian would understand.

  Sian. Sian. Sian. Sian. Sian.

  Her name reverberated around my head, so much so that I hardly noticed when the small stabs of pain began to make themselves known. Nor when the blackness overtook again.

  Chapter 7

  When I opened my eyes again, and the pain subsided, I wasn't in the bathroom anymore. Or I wasn't if the loud noises all about were anything to go by. Huh, it was almost as loud as if I was in a restaurant or a bar. Which was definitely a bit of a change.

  A light breeze brushed against my legs, and I felt the fabric of the dress I'd been wearing earlier, fluttering against my legs. I was me again then. Good to know. But that didn't tell me where I was, or how I got here. At least I'd only been in Tate's own home.

  "Ayra, is everything okay?" a soft voice asked, and I looked up
to meet achingly familiar dark eyes that were filled with compassion.

  "Sian?" My voice cracked, coming out croaky, probably a result of the panic I'd been suffering from. Then again, that had been in Tate's body, surely it should be her feeling the effects of my panic, not me? Oh shit, I hoped she was okay. It couldn't be fun waking up to discover yourself panicking. Was waking up even the right word? How could I even know that? As far as I was aware, most people didn't just swap bodies with everyone else. At least, I'd never heard of anyone else doing it. So it made sense that Tate and I were the only ones that could do it.

  I snorted.

  I was making this sound far too normal for my liking.

  "Ayra, are you okay? You're worrying me." She did sound worried, and guilt welled up within me. I know I'd been thinking about her before swapping back into my body, but I hadn't actually expected the universe to listen and bring me back to sweet, patient, and passive Sian. The complete opposite to Devon and his clear demands on me. No, on Tate. He'd thought I was Tate. I couldn't forget that.

  "Fine," I muttered. Yes, okay, totally not fine. Who said fine when they actually were anyway? No one I knew. It was the universal word for 'I'm really not fine, but I can't say that because it's rude. Or maybe because you'll think I'm self centred'. Which was actually kind of odd if I thought about it. If everyone knew what it meant, why did people even bother using it.

  Seriously, Ayra? What the hell was wrong with you? You shouldn't be thinking about language and word choices at a time like this. Deal with the problem at hand.