Tank perched himself on the edge of the couch Lissa was sitting on.
Lissa took a sip of whiskey and looked over at Flynn, startled. She was no judge of fine spirits, but this was ridiculously smooth and tasty.
He grinned at her and raised his glass slightly, as if in a toast.
“So, what do you mean, your people?” she asked. “Since when do I belong to you?”
Flynn took a sip of whiskey. “Okay. I suck at this leader thing, so here it is. Shifters: the Cliff Notes,” he said. “Listen up, babe, because I’ll say this more than once, but the more often I have to say it, the more the claws are involved.”
Tank growled at him. “What the fuck? She can’t defend herself.”
Flynn cut his eyes to Tank. Despite the sense of humor, the whiskey, and his apparent lack of ego, Lissa could tell he was not somebody to seriously fuck with. And she’d seen the claws—they could kill her with one swipe.
“All the more reason for her to follow the rules, then,” Flynn said.
Tank growled again, softer. She could see he still felt responsible for her and wanted to protect her. That was reassuring, but not if he got into fights with Flynn over it. The man was a lion, for God’s sake. She’d seen Brother Damien’s bear, and he was no match for that.
Flynn ignored Tank’s subvocal objections and turned back to Lissa.
“Rule One. I’m the alpha. In shifter land, that means I own this territory—all hundred and sixty acres of it—and I’m in charge here. What I say goes. Deal with it.”
“Rule Two. This is my crew, such as it is. Most shifter crews are one species, but this is a mixed crew: Lion, grizzly, jaguar, snow leopard, asshole panther, and a couple more who come around now and then and can’t fucking decide if they’re staying or going. I’m responsible for everyone. Eventually we’re going to have to get jobs and make some money, but for now, if you need anything, you come to me or Tank. Nobody here goes without.”
That surprised Lissa. She’d been in a few crews on the streets, and most of the leaders didn’t give a shit whether you starved or not.
“Rule Three. Don’t fuck with the rest of the crew—at least, not until you can shift and defend yourself. This crew is fucked up. We went through some bad shit together, and none of us are right in the head. At the moment, you’re not either, so no need to feel superior. But it means we have issues, bad days, and hair-trigger tempers. We fight and bloody each other up. Deal with it. And when tempers are high, stick with Tank or me so you don’t get killed.”
Well, that wasn’t awesome, but it wasn’t so different from some of the crews she’d run with on the street, either. Scary guys, bad tempers, and too many fights. She’d learned to stick with her boyfriend or anyone else she could trust, and not get caught in the crossfire. She could deal with this, if she had to.
“Rule Four. Shifters are a secret. This should actually have been number one, because the first rule of being a shifter is don’t fucking tell anybody. If humans find out about us, bad shit will happen, and if you’re the one who makes it happen, the Shifter Council will put you down, and either kill anyone you tell, or erase their memories. There are exceptions, but you don’t need to know those right now. Just keep your mouth shut.”
“Shifter Council?” Lissa said. “Shifters have a government?”
“Fuck, yeah,” Flynn said. “They make the laws for shifters and handle any problems the crews can’t. Hot tip: don’t make any epic problems. Because I do not want the Council all up in our business. And trust me, neither do you.”
That wasn’t so different from being on the street, either. You didn’t want to be the one bringing the cops or the social workers down on your crew. It never ended well.
“Rule Five,” Flynn went on. This guy had a lot of rules. “You don’t leave this territory—hell, you don’t leave this clearing—without me or Tank, unless I say you can. From what I hear, your bear is a mess and you can’t control her. Refer to Rule Four if you can’t figure out why this is a problem as far as you being in public around humans.
“Rule Six. You’ll work with Tank to try to bring your bear out of hiding and learn to control her. Otherwise, Rule Number Five becomes permanent. Have another drink while I call in the crew to meet you.”
Lissa obediently took another swallow of whiskey while Flynn walked to the door. This stuff was amazing. Tank was watching her with an intensity that was making her uncomfortable.
“I’m sorry Flynn’s so…Flynn,” he said quietly. “He’s not so bad, really. You’ll get used to him.”
She grimaced. “Trust me, I’ve been around worse. Some of the crews I ran with on the street…well, I stuck close to whatever boyfriend I was with, and kept my head down. This isn’t the first time I’ve hung around with a bunch of short-tempered fucked-up killers who I couldn’t tell anybody about. And most of the time, the rest of the crew didn’t care whether I had enough to eat or a decent place to sleep. Sometimes my boyfriends didn’t, either.”
But she’d always survived. It was what she did.
Flynn had gone out to the front porch, and he let off a loud whistle. “Crew meeting,” he bellowed, loud enough to shake the rafters. “Now, you fuckers!”
Something rolled through the room—a kind of energy that pressed down on Lissa’s chest. “What the hell is that?” she whispered. Her demon—her bear—scrabbled inside her, terrified.
“Alpha energy,” Tank said quietly. “Flynn is one of the most dominant shifters I’ve ever met. It’s the only reason this crew has any hope of not imploding. He keeps them from falling apart with sheer force of will.”
It sounded exhausting. No wonder he was grumpy all the time.
Flynn came back in, and in another minute he was followed by Sloan, Xander, and…
A spotted jaguar that was about eight feet long.
Holy fuck. “You’re beautiful,” Lissa said, staring. Her bear didn’t think so. Her bear wanted to get away from all these animal smells.
The jaguar gazed intently at Lissa with her huge yellow-green eyes, tail twitching. Lissa had the wild urge to skitter her fingers like a mouse for the cat to pounce on. Except this kitty would probably take her hand off and eat it for a snack.
Kill. Blood. Devour, said her bear. Yikes.
Tank moved closer and put his hand in the middle of her back. He started making slow circles. “It’s okay,” he said. “They won’t hurt you, or your bear.”
She wouldn’t bet the farm on that.
“This is Lissa,” Flynn said, when they were all assembled. “Lissa, this is Xander, Sloan and Jasmin. Everybody blow kisses and say hi.”
Xander was the naked guy from the shed. He was wearing clothes now, jeans and a black t-shirt, and he pulled a Bowie knife from its sheath and started tossing it in his hand. “She’s cute,” he said. “You looking for a mate, sugar?”
Tank snarled at him, and he flipped Tank the bird.
Lissa gave Xander the slow once-over. She knew enough not to let him intimidate her, or he’d never stop trying to get a rise out of her. “Don’t know,” she said. “Maybe. Might have to line you all up and compare dicks before I pick one, though.”
“Forget it, babe,” Flynn said, looking amused. “I’m the clear winner, and I’m not on the market.”
Sloan snickered, and Xander gave him a sideways look. “You’d have to get a magnifier out to find Sloan’s, anyway. Not to mention those teensy-weensy little balls.”
Sloan’s snicker changed to a soft snarl.
The jaguar abruptly turned into a slim woman with long dark hair. Naked, of course. And totally unconcerned by it, even though she was in a room primed for a testosterone explosion. “At least she’ll be able to find yours, dickhead,” she said to Xander. “You can’t stop talking with it.”
Xander sent the knife spinning toward Jasmin, and she plucked it out of the air without moving anything but her hand. “Thanks. I needed a new knife.”
“Fuck you. Give it back.”
> Jasmin just grinned.
Sloan didn’t say anything—just stared at the floor.
Flynn went on, “Lissa is a bear shifter, but she was recently Turned and she can’t Change. She has nowhere else to go, so she’s joining our crew, at least until she can straighten her shit out. Don’t fuck with her, because she can’t fight back, and Tank and I will rip your guts out and feed them to the coyotes if she gets hurt. She’s officially under my protection.”
He reached out toward Lissa as if literally placing his protection on her. His hand clasped her shoulder, and his fingers grazed the spot where her bite mark lay, under her t-shirt.
Lissa felt a jolt, and blue sparks fizzed from Flynn’s fingers, their touch searing her. Red fire burst out of her scar, burning through her t-shirt and singeing Flynn’s fingers. He jerked his hand back. “What the fuck?” he said, turning his hand over and staring at his fingers, then at Lissa.
She barely heard him. The familiar yet terrifying red haze took over her vision. Her bear was roaring inside her—Blood! Kill! Devour!—and something was happening to her mouth. Her jaw ached and her teeth grew longer and sharper, and her fingers felt like knives were stabbing through them.
She heard tiny pops like her bones were breaking, and then hideous pain lanced through her, making her whole body seize.
There were hands near her and she snapped at them. The taste of blood was in her mouth but she didn’t know if it was real or a memory or just a dream. She was living her nightmare, blood in her mouth and blood on her hands, terror and rending flesh and gaping wounds. Her shoulder burned and her blood burned and she was running through the woods, and all she knew was she had to get away from the horror.
Blood. Pain. Kill. Devour.
NO!
Her whole body seized as the bear-demon rose up in her, but she couldn’t let it out. Couldn’t let it out. Chains of fire bound her, and it burned and burned, and words boomed through her mind.
By the power of Ursus, I bind you!
Her bear screamed, and then everything went black.
Chapter 12
Tank grabbed Lissa as she convulsed and held her close in his arms. Her screams hurt his sensitive ears, but all he could think about was soothing her terror.
He carried her outside into the open space next to the fire pit, knowing that if her first shift happened indoors, surrounded by other animals, her bear would be even more terrified. Her teeth and claws had shifted, and she raked parallel scratches down his ribcage. Her teeth fastened on his arm, blood running in rivulets down his skin.
“Dammit,” he muttered. “Somebody get her mouth.”
Flynn was right behind him, and he dug his fingers into hinge of Lissa’s jaws and forced them apart. As soon as Tank’s arm was free, Flynn brought his big hand over her mouth, holding it closed.
“Oh, no, darlin’,” he muttered. “Bad bear.”
Tank held on to Lissa. He could feel her bones breaking, feel her flesh undulating as she tried to shift. He laid her on the ground, talking to her the whole time. “It’s okay. Let her out. Let’s see what we’ve got here.”
Her eyes were wide open, and they had that horrible flame-red glow. She fought and snarled, no intelligence in her eyes. Just fury. Her flesh looked like it was bubbling, but she didn’t Change.
She was stuck between forms, and it was tearing her apart.
“Holy fuck,” Xander muttered, skidding to a stop a few feet away, the others a step behind him. “What the hell is with the demon eyes?”
“Magic, I think,” Flynn said. Blue fire was beginning to dance around his hands again, and there was a muffled howl from Lissa. “Shit,” he said. “Somebody else keep her from biting. I’m hurting her.”
Xander stepped in and grabbed Lissa’s mouth. Flynn slid his hand out and backed away, shaking it like he’d gotten an electric shock.
Tank ignored all that. His focus was on Lissa, talking to her like he’d always talked to his friend Tristan when he went crazy wolf and couldn’t change back.
“It’s okay,” he said, stroking Lissa’s back over and over again. “Stay human,” he said. “Push her back. You’re not ready yet. You can be human again. Come on, babe. You can do it.”
The screaming tapered off to whimpers, but her muscles were still locked, trembling with the effort of fighting the bear. Finally the red glow faded from her eyes, and Lissa went limp.
Tank carried her into the house, straight through the living area and down the hall to his bedroom. His bed was a California king, the only kind he could really be comfortable in. He pulled her sneakers off and tucked her in. She looked so small lying there in the big bed, her wild spirit quenched. He was suddenly seized by a desire to curl up next to her and hold her safe in his arms until the whole world went away.
Protect her!
He couldn’t. He didn’t even know what was wrong with her. Still, he couldn’t seem to tear himself away.
Instead, he stroked back her hair. “You’re safe now, Lissa,” he said, hoping it was true. “Go to sleep. You’ll feel better later, when you wake up.”
He hoped that was true too.
Flynn was standing in the doorway, obviously waiting to talk to him, so Tank stroked one more strand of hair back and forced himself to follow Flynn out to the living room. The rest were all there, perched on the backs of chairs or at the barstools at the kitchen island.
“Is she okay?” Sloan asked.
Tank leaned on the wall, right near the hallway to the bedrooms. It was as far away from Lissa as he could bring himself to go. He shook his head.
“Of course she’s not okay,” he said, angry at the helpless feeling inside him. “Some bastard Turned her without her consent, and her bear’s stuck halfway. How the fuck is she supposed to be okay?”
Her screams were still echoing in his head, and he could feel his bear getting riled up.
The others looked troubled. They might be assholes, and halfway insane, but one thing they all had in common was a hatred of anyone who abused shifters. They’d all suffered too much to let that shit happen to anyone else if they could stop it.
“Who is this guy?” Xander asked. “Is he coming after her?” He paused, then added hopefully, “Can we kill him?”
“He’s a crazy rogue shifter from Arkansas who thinks he’s a god,” Tank growled. “And no, you can’t kill him. I’m killing him.”
“I’ll fight you for it,” Xander suggested. “Winner gets to kill him.”
“He might already be dead,” Tank said, thinking back on what Lissa had told him. “She’s having trouble remembering the night she was Turned, but I know she was holding something back—something big. What if she killed him?”
Jasmin said from her barstool, “Then I’ll buy her a drink for a job well done.”
She’d grabbed up one of the shirts from the coat hooks by the door and put it on, but her long legs were still bare, twined around the legs of the stool. “The problem is, if she Changed right after he Turned her, and killed him, then that might be what messed up her bear. The both of them could be so traumatized she repressed her bear, and the memories of what she did.”
Fuck it all. He hated to think of Lissa’s bright soul being tainted by that.
Flynn shook his head. “It can’t just be that,” he said.
Tank glared at him, running his fingers through his hair. “Just?” he repeated. “Isn’t that enough?”
“It doesn’t explain the red glow from her bite mark, or the demon eyes,” Sloan pointed out.
“Yeah,” Xander added. “What the fuck was up with that?”
They all looked at Flynn, who glared back at them. “How the hell should I know?” he asked. “Only thing I can think of is somebody used magic on Lissa—or rather, on her bear. What the magic is or what it does, is anybody’s guess. But it’s probably some kind of binding or domination magic.”
Jasmin asked, “What makes you say that?”
Flynn held out his hand. Blue fire danc
ed around it. “Israel Jonas gave me the claim on this territory with that dragon stone he’s got,” he said. “This blue fire is territory magic, like the kind the wolves have. When I tried to extend my protection to her, as alpha of this territory, whatever magic she’s carrying around jumped up and fought it. Like she’s already pledged to someone else.”
“He didn’t just Turn her, he tried to claim her,” Tank reminded him. “Maybe he sealed the claim with some kind of magic, because it wasn’t a true mating.”
And if he had, Tank was going to kill him twice.
“Well, there’s an easy way around that,” Xander said. He’d gotten his knife back in the confusion, and was twirling it between his fingers. He gave a feral smile, and ran the edge of the blade lightly across his own neck. “Death negates a mating claim. Bleed him out.”
Tank turned to Flynn. “Would that do it?” Because he was willing to drive to Arkansas right now and rip the man’s intestines out.
Flynn shook his head. “You’re asking me? I don’t know shit about magic. But you might be right about the purpose of the spell. An ordinary claim wouldn’t react like that—I had half a dozen Silverlake women here a few weeks ago, all of them claimed and pledged to another alpha, and my power didn’t go apeshit on them. Not to mention, that demon-eyes thing is not normal. Fucker did something to her, though I’m damned if I know what.”
“We have to help her,” Tank said. He was feeling desperate inside, and his bear was pacing and snarling. “Her bear’s tearing her up, and if it’s being magically restrained, it really will kill her.”
He couldn’t stand to see Lissa die. She was so brave, so strong. Such a fighter. She had the spirit of a beautiful warrior bear, and it was killing her.
Tank shifted his weight restlessly against the wall, his hands clenching and unclenching. It wasn’t fair. He’d seen too many people die. Lissa didn’t deserve this. He wanted to leave right now to find Brother Damien and rip his limbs off one by one until he undid whatever he’d done.
Bad Blood Bear (Bad Blood Shifters Book 1) Page 7