by A. Vers
The tallest male with the dark eyes growls. “Caine. Shut … your … trap.”
Another chuckle fills the room. Lilah rolls her eyes, but otherwise ignores them. “Sorry. It’s been a really long night for you, I’m sure, and even with your super healing—”
My brain checks out and dives right back in. “I’m sorry. Do what?” I look between them, sure I misheard.
Lilah shifts and looks at T.
His silver irises gleam. “You’re human.”
It’s not really a question, but I answer anyway. “Damn fucking right.”
He rocks back and scrubs his face. I expect him to appear haggard, upset. Instead he remains just as hot and frustrated as before. “Well, this just got fucking awkward,” he murmurs.
“Awkward how? And what do you mean super healing? How bad was it?” My head whips back and forth between them.
“Bad enough we portaled you as a human,” T says.
Portaled? What the fuck does that mean?
“Do you have shifter blood anywhere in your immediate family tree?” he asks.
Eyes wide, I nod. “Grandfather was a shifter guard for a plantation few towns over. But my parents are both human.”
T exhales. “Look, most humans with shifter blood lines can be changed by a fresh introduction of good ol’ shifter virus. If you have shifter in your family, and one that is recent, it would explain your healing.”
“So …” I peer between them, heart slamming, “I’m going to turn furry now.”
T nods, no change in his rigid expression. “Most likely. Full moon is still a few days away, but no shifter—bitten or otherwise—can resist the moon. We’ll know for sure then.”
Lilah grabs the dark-haired guy’s arm. “Ruin …”
He peers at her, and the look that flows between them is heated, loving, and too fucking tender for words.
I fight not to retch.
Love is a dream notion. A fantasy.
My parents were proof of that.
When I glance away, my eyes meet that pair of near glowing silver irises as T continues to just watch me in silence.
“Want to start with your name? Or why you were on private pack land?” He steps a pace closer as he speaks. That deep echo is back, and it rumbles through my body in waves.
“Nisha,” I say, almost in monotone, unable to look away. “Nisha Rawlins. I’m a firefighter in town.” I pause. “We’re still near Fallen Ridge, right?”
Lilah nods, smiling gently.
Thank god for that small fucking miracle.
“Caine,” she motions through the others to a dark headed, goth looking male barely visible at the door, “brought you here by portal with Tanner.” She jerks her thumb to T.
I appraise him.
Tanner.
It suits him and it nags at me, like I’ve heard it before.
“The silent one by the door is Gage. Horan is guarding this hall, and this mountain is Ruin. My … husband.” She fumbles the last word, hand on the dark-haired guy’s arm. “The guys and I are part of the Lock Lake Coven. We’re in town for a few days—camping.” Another pause. It’s a partial truth, and I have no idea how I know.
“When Gage and Tanner came across you on the creek’s edge, they got you here as fast as they could. I know it’s a lot to take in, but we have a few questions … Now that you’re awake and coherent.”
“Badges?”
Every male pulls a slim medallion out from under their T-shirts, and the Lock Lake crest of two swords and a wyvern glares back.
I lean into my pillows.
Coven officials, regardless of what city, are like supernatural law enforcement. They patrol their towns for rogue supernaturals who break the law, injure humans, or just act naughty.
And the cat that attacked me was either a rabid jaguar in southern Louisiana or a crazy supe.
Guess which one my money is on?
Crossing my arms, I glance between them. “What do you want to know?”
Chapter 5
Tanner
The woman, Nisha, remains stone-faced in the hospital bed. But it only makes her beauty icy. Less obtainable, but no less devastating.
Her hair is thick, blonde-brown, and free of the ruined ponytail from the woods. Though her skin is a lovely shade of creamy bronze, under the patches of dried blood the nurse couldn’t get off, her eyes are a pale sea foam, the color startling next to her darker skin.
Muscle moves in the backs of her arms as she shifts in place. She’s strong. Agile. Nimble.
The pungent aroma of a campfire seems to linger under her skin, mixing with something almost like cocoa and peach body wash. Her fragrance is like every seduction I have ever staged. It reaches into my nose and grabs me by the balls.
And damn does it know how to use just the right amount of pressure. I shift. But it doesn’t help.
At-fucking-all.
“I always run on the trail nearest pack land. There’s fewer people, and in all the years I’ve been on that path, I’ve never had any problems.” Nisha grimaces. “Until tonight.”
“Run through it for me,” I say, unwittingly stepping closer as those vibrant eyes raise to mine.
Her fingers grip the sheet in her lap. A sudden image of them wrapped around my cock has me moving several paces away. My chest heaves.
Fuck.
Bad, Tanner, I chide myself. No newbie shifters.
She glances at me again. “I did like I always do,” she begins. “Came in from the outlet off the park. Ran my standard five miles and was headed to cool down.”
“There’s a large boulder near the creek that I stretch on.” Her face turns a delicate pink as she finally breaks eye contact. “But I guess the ground was too slick. Anyway, I fell down the slope trying to get to the valley floor.”
My eyes roam over her, taking in the smooth muscle visible even under the gown she wears. Definitely lithe.
Is she as flexible as she is strong?
“And the beast?” Gage asks, finally adding his two-fucking-cents to the convo and jarring me from staring at her.
My head shakes with vehemence.
What is wrong with me?
She sighs, and the sound is soft. Feminine. “The damn thing came out of nowhere. I tried to talk to it—”
I snort. “You tried to talk down a shifter? This close to the full moon?”
Her face flames brighter but her eyes glitter with anger. “I thought it would be a sane normal werecat. Not a deranged beast.”
Ruin steps between us as my lips part on a retort. “What did it look like?” he asks calmly.
“Over six-feet, tan, rosettes. Fuck, I don’t know. It looked like a damn jaguar.” She peers around.
Gage and I exchange a look, and I nod. Same one I saw feeding.
Ruin glances back at me. “Well, we’re going to be working through that, true? So unfortunately your introduction into pack society may have to wait.”
She stares at him. “Pack … What now?”
I offer her a brilliant smile. “As a bitten shifter, you have a few options. With no pack loyalties or hierarchy, you can register as a rogue. This would let you live the life you have, but you have to endure routine check-ups and you can’t travel out of state without notifying the board.” Her nose wrinkles in distaste. “Or you can ask for pack protection from your local alpha. If he agrees, and he probably will, then you will report monthly to him for the sabbat runs. One on the full moon, and one during the new moon.”
She blinks. Her fucking lashes are long, and just as thick as her hair. “I’m a firefighter. I don’t have time for this shit.” Her colorful language makes my gut warm. The woman is brazen. Fierce.
She starts to push from the bed again, completely ignoring the IV and the few bandages left on her body.
I leap across the room.
Her body is scalding beneath the thin gown, and not quite flawless, but close. She has several burn scars on the backs of her hands and the slim column of her n
eck. But the rest of her body has a smooth, golden glow.
“Didn’t we do this earlier?” I ask, pushing gently at the muscle in her strong shoulders.
She watches me from less than a foot away, her eyes shifting to a turbulent jade as I watch. Her anger only adds to her delectable and smoky scent. “And I’m pretty sure I told you not to touch me.”
My lips tremor. “I think your exact words were to let you go. You didn’t say for me not to touch you.”
Her white teeth gleam in such a shifter-esque motion that a fucking shiver of awareness flows down my spine.
“Tanner.” Lilah’s voice is soft. “Let her go.”
“Yeah, Tanner, let me go.”
My eyes close.
Fucking hell.
The sound of my name from Nisha’s full lips rings through me like a gong. My dick hardens in my jeans.
I back up, putting massive amounts of fucking space between us. “Yeah. Sure thing, Boss Lady.”
Nisha scowls, brows narrowed, like she is waiting on me to move away even more.
I plaster a cocky smile on my face. “Okay. So … I got everything I need,” I say and start walking to the door. The sooner I am out of here—
A hard hand closes over my bicep, halting me. “That’s it?” Ruin demands.
I glance at his hand on my arm. He releases me, but his jet-black eyes are frigid, empty.
“Yeah, that’s it,” I retort. “If I have any other questions, we know where she works, true?”
He exhales but steps back. I walk around him without a backward glance and slip out the door.
Caine and Horan wait outside near the nurse’s station. The demon peers at me from behind the fringe of his midnight hair and smirks. “Hey, kitty-kitty,” Caine croons. “What’s got your tail in a bunch?”
I flip him off, brush past Horan, and keep going until I hit the parking lot.
My truck sits at the curb thanks to Gage. I climb inside the hot, stuffy interior and immediately bang my head on the damn steering wheel a few times.
As pretty as Nisha is, she is off limits as anything other than a witness to a deranged shifter attack. Nothing more. Because more would mean doing a lot of really naughty things to her, and judging from her anger just now, I would be purring up the wrong fucking tree.
The passenger side door opens and closes. Caine’s brimstone fragrance pools in the confined space but he remains quiet.
“Gage elect to stay with Ruin?” I ask, forehead still pressed to the leather covering the wheel.
“I think our fair Fae warrior may still be unsure where his loyalties lie.” Caine’s words are soft.
I peer at him. “Says the guy with the hots for his captain’s old lady.”
Caine’s blood-red eyes flash. “And your dick wasn’t hard for the smoking hot firefighter?” The sound that pours from me is all growl. He laughs, but there is no humor in it. “Relax, cat. I won’t say a word if you don’t.”
As he watches me, he leans back into the seat, getting comfortable. “Besides, you need backup, and I need to not be around the Ruin-Lilah Love Fest.”
True, the Cap and his new misses can be a bit—focused. But Caine and I have never been close. His smart ass mouth has more than attested to that.
“Fine. But this doesn’t change a thing, demon boy,” I warn.
He crosses his arms with a sinister smile. “And isn’t that the fucking truth?”
Chapter 6
Nisha
The room is quiet for a moment after Tanner leaves. Ruin looks to Gage where he stands by the door, acting like he is torn between staying and going too.
“Well that was fucking weird,” Ruin says.
Lilah elbows him.
He glares down at her. “What? You’ve met Tanner. Was that or was that not fucking weird for him? Especially after—” His eyes dip to mine, taking in my unwitting leaning forward. He coughs. “He’s acting weird, baby girl. ‘Nough said.”
It’s such a blatant cover that I snort.
Ignoring him, Lilah walks closer. “Okay, Nisha. Few things.” I look up at her. “Your healing is accelerated. Something Tanner assured us to mean you will change. And with the full moon in two days, it will be soon.”
My stomach flips. “Okay.”
She smiles, snares the pen and hospital stationary and scribbles a number. “I know this is a lot. And I know what you are going through. In ways I can’t even begin to explain …” Ruin coughs and her cheeks flush. “But if you need anything, feel free to contact us.” She tears off the top sheet and holds it out.
I nod and take the offered slip of paper.
She waves as the others file out of the room.
Ruin glances back at the door. “I don’t think I need to tell you not to leave town, Ms. Rawlins.” His dark eyes glint like chunks of obsidian.
“Because if I do, you’ll hunt me down?” I ask, tone wry.
He smiles. “Ex-fucking-actly.” Lilah pulls him through the doorway with a grunt, and the door swishes closed on it’s hydraulic hinge.
I’m left in the quiet, heart pounding away as they trail past the window. I wait a beat.
“Yep. We are done here.” I pull at the I.V. in my arm. It slips out. Tossing it, I clamp my hand over the hole as I search for my clothes.
A bag of ruined running gear sits under the low table. Trying to ignore all the blood on the material, I pull the near shredded shorts on. My eyes rake over the cut bra and then the hospital gown.
I rip the sleeves off of the gown with my teeth. Pulling it on with the opening in the front, I knot the bottom half around my waist, grateful for my smaller chest as the material gaps.
Everything else I shove in the trash and slip from the room.
The hole on my arm tingles, knitting slowly. A wave of anxiety fills my insides, and I have to stop moving as my heart hammers.
Bitten.
A trace of bitterness melds with the fear.
I never wanted this. Never wanted to be other than human. But now that I am, what am I supposed to do now?
Distant voices echo down the hall, jolting me to move.
Maneuvering out through the main doors, I hail the first cab I see. Though his eyes go wide at my less than put together appearance, the driver stops and agrees to take me back to my car. I climb in the backseat and huddle in on myself.
The little hole from the IV is gone completely. As are all the other marks Lilah said I carried. I look normal except for the blood. Like the whole nightmare never happened.
I know better. Just like I know that whoever attacked me could come back to the crime scene. And I plan on being around to catch them when they do.
Chapter 7
Tanner
Caine and I pull down the lane for the Silver Rock plantation. The thick posts on both sides of the drive have seen better fucking days. Someone tried to white wash the sign by the road, and it left the letters chalky, indiscernible. But the damn magnolia trees still line each side of the gravel path, thick and laden with blooms in the heat of a Louisiana summer.
The old plantation home has long since been removed. Too many bad memories in the monolith of history, I guess.
A new ring of cabins spread out from the makeshift parking lot, and the pack meeting hall appears clean. Well kept.
Good to know Callus hasn’t completely let the place go to shit.
I park in front of the long brick office building and climb down from my truck. Caine echoes me on the other side. “Awfully green out here, isn’t it?” he asks, gazing around at the tall trees lining every side of the clearing and the dark hollow of the basin’s edge nearby.
My eyes dip to his silk slacks and the button-up rolled halfway over his arms in the heat. “Why did you even bring that shit with you? We’re in Louisiana, not Manhattan.”
He scoffs. “I am aware, cat. Alas, not all of us can shop at Cowboys-R-Us.” His eyes rake my frame in distaste.
I ignore him and his snide tone and start across the g
ravel to the main door of the meeting hall.
The interior is dim, cooler than outside with fans and a few window units purring in the near quiet of the swamp. A dark-haired woman sits behind an older desk, recent copy of Cosmo in her hands. The soft scent of watermelon bubble gum fills the air as she flips the pages idly without looking up. I cough.
Her head whips over. She drops the magazine and has to pick it back up, cheeks a brilliant pink in the old fluorescent lighting.
But she recovers fast enough. Her smile is salacious, sexy, as we near. “Well … Hello.”
I smirk. “Is the Alpha available?”
“Yeah. Should be. May I ask who is inquiring?”
“Tan-man,” I say. Caine coughs next to me, and I roll my eyes. “And guest.”
“It would be my pleasure to tell him you’re here. Hang on.” She climbs slowly to her feet and walks down the hall, hips rocking in a glide that screams sex.
My eyes lock on the sway of her thick ass in a pair of shorts way too small to hold all that deliciousness inside. Just like she meant them to be.
“Damn,” Caine mutters next to me. “Are all shifter women built like that here?”
“We know how to feed them in the South, that’s for sure.”
“No shit,” he breathes.
She comes back after a moment, her mocha eyes framed with pretty long lashes as she smiles. “Alpha Callus will see you.”
Caine looks at me. “You need a hand or …”
I grin. “Knock yourself out. Just no playing if she isn’t willing.”
He turns back to the girl and her head whips between us as she swallows hard. “I always play fair, cat.” His hellfire eyes pulse and her knees weaken on a moan. “Always.”
I clap him on the back and start down the hall.
There are several doors along the expanse, but I can track Callus by scent alone. Announcing myself at all is just good breeding.
I knock.
“Enter.”
I push the panel wide. Callus Reed sits behind a regal black locust desk. One that is over a hundred and fifty years old and has been part of the Silver Rock pack for five generations. On the left hand corner of the top drawer will be a hand carved insignia.