The Aberrants Box Set (Books 1-5)

by Sarah J. Stone

  He bristled, and she knew that she had pushed a little too hard. “Ugh, are you still hung up on that?” He drained the rest of his beer and threw it, shattering it against the wall. “Why do you insist on defending the very people who would kill you?”

  “Because not everyone is guilty,” she shot back before she could think better of it. “There are plenty of people who wouldn’t go out of their way to hurt me, or any other Aberrant, people who would even risk their lives to help one of us. I don’t see how waging war against all of them does anyone any good. Who knows, we could even accidentally do enough damage to wipe Shifters of the map entirely and leave only humans walking around.”

  “Words! You’re so obsessed with words!” He leaned forward and snarled in Jaelle’s face, “Words are for the weak. Words are what led to hundreds of thousands of Aberrants being executed through the generations when they could have found. The only way to win our lives back is to fight!” He reached out and gripped her shoulders tightly. “Why do you love them so much? I don’t understand!”

  She could feel him about to tumble over the edge, alcohol weakening his already tenuous control on his mind. Jaelle knew it was time.

  Without a moment’s hesitation, she whipped the knife out of her thigh high stockings and swung it toward Creed. It hit home in his side, not quite between his ribs, but close.

  The Aberrant roared and jumped back, falling off the couch and rolling across the floor while kicking. Snacks and the small remainder of their drinks went everywhere, and Jaelle was on her feet in an instant.

  “You bitch!” he gasped, fighting to get to his feet. “You fucking bitch!”

  Jaelle knew that she should close in while he was down, but she was wary. She didn’t know how much the wolfsbane had affected him, beyond making him slightly tipsier than he would have been otherwise. She needed to stay back and figure out just how enfeebled he was, if at all.

  He lunged toward her, face elongating and teeth beginning to grow. She dodged, noticing fur started to ripple back along his hair line, but as she whirled around on him, he hadn’t shifted any farther. He was stuck.

  “What the hell?” he rasped, looking at his hand in shock. “What did you do? What did you do?!”

  “Wolfsbane,” she answered, a crooked smile growing on her face. “I wanted a fair fight, ya know?”

  The sound he let out was terrible, but it was masked by the explosion on the screen. Even with their enhanced hearing, the guards wouldn’t be able to make out a thing given the distance, multiple sets of doors, and the movie playing at near full volume.

  Creed charged toward her again, form a strange mishmash of human and something else. His nails had sharpened into thick, dark claws, his teeth were yellow and fang-like, and his legs were halfway transitioned into digitigrade joints.

  Jaelle dodged, calling upon her own skill. Her mind focused on the wolf, sure and strong with high endurance, and her body began to morph. She snarled, but the sound cut off when she realized that she wasn’t going any further, either.

  “Looks like your cell is still effecting you, too,” Creed hissed, drool dripping from his unnatural jaw. “I should have known you would be nothing more than a filthy whore-traitor.”

  “Is that enough adjectives?” she retorted as best she could through her jagged and mismatched teeth. “Why don’t you stop the name calling and so we can fight this out like adults?”

  “Oh, is that what you are?” He advanced on her, but she stood her ground. “An adult? I would think a lying, villainous, idiot is more appropriate!”

  She shrugged, her shoulders pinching as they did, having already rotated to try to fit a quadruped form. She had better things to do to waste her breath on more arguments. Creed could feed his rage if that’s how he wanted his fight to play out, but she needed to focus.

  He swiped at her, claws aiming for her belly. She didn’t dodge this time, but instead kicked out with her dominant leg.

  She caught him where the knife was still sticking out of him and he howled, twisting to the side. This time, she didn’t hesitate to lung on top of him, claws extended, and teeth bared.

  She landed on his back and tried to wrap her arms around his throat so that she could choke him, but he reared up, backpedaling until she slammed into the wall.

  Jaelle let out a cry, the breath being driven from her body and her arms releasing of their own accord. Then his weight was gone, and she stumbled forward, only to have Creed whirl and slam his claws into her side.

  She went sailing, on a direct course for the entertainment system. No! She didn’t want to lose that. Although it was quite possible that the guards wouldn’t hear her without the speakers on blast, she couldn’t afford to risk it. Her entire plan hinged on them being none the wiser.

  She reached up and her claws managed to latch onto the ceiling. They didn’t find a permanent hold, but it was enough to swing her momentum away from the TV and through a closed door.

  She broke through, wood splintering everywhere. She slid to a stop against a cabinet, earning herself a split second of a breather before Creed stepped through the hole she had created.

  “The bathroom?” he rasped, voice fading and growing like grunts and snarls. The wolfsbane was passing through his system too quickly. Jaelle needed to finish this before he recovered. Otherwise…well, she had already acknowledged the consequences multiple times. “Appropriate for a piece of shit like you.”

  Ah, that explained the white tile and slight smell of potpourri. However, she didn’t want to die in such close proximity to a toilet, so it looked like she needed to keep fighting.

  For some reason, he was giving her a chance to get on her feet, so wiping her jagged mouth as she did. “Is this really the time for puns?” she asked.

  “I—”

  Trick question. She didn’t give him an opportunity to answer, instead barreling forward and body slamming him. They went tumbling together, knocking aside the coffee table and loveseat, and coming to a stop near the kitchen door. Somewhere in the tussle, Creed had removed the knife from his side, and his blood was getting everywhere.

  Jaelle risked a quick glance to his wound. She couldn’t make out much of the detail of it, but she could see that the edges were a raw pink. That meant it was healing, even with his system weakened by wolfsbane.

  Shit.

  His form rippled again, and his muscles grew larger while the rest of his already dangerous appendages grew that much more lethal.

  Jaelle responded in kind, snarling and kicking out at his legs while her own body became more animalistic. They were strange mishmashes of human and beast, not quite half-shift, but definitely not at an equilibrium, either.

  Creed stumbled back from her kick, but caught his balance before she did, swinging his claws down to connect with her thigh. Jaelle rolled, then jumped to her feet just in time to take a slash to the face.

  Just when she needed an explosion the most, the movie cut to cheesy dialogue of the lead and villain. Gulping down a scream, Jaelle stumbled back, falling over the rear of the couch as she did.

  She landed hard, her spine protesting. It was somewhere between human and wolf sizes, as well as a hundred percent done with her shenanigans.

  Creed was on her in an instant, his great weight pinning her down, and his animal-like, unnaturally long fingers wrapped around her throat.

  He squeezed mercilessly, cutting off the air to her brain.

  “We could have had everything!” he cried, spittle raining down on her face. His breath smelled of wine and rotting flesh, leading her to wonder if that was an effect from shifting, or the scent of his soul escaping through his mouth.

  “All you had to do was get your head out of your ass for one second, and believe in the future of our kind!” He shook her head, slamming it against the ground repeatedly. Her vision began to fade, and she could feel her body reverting back to human.

  “But now you’ll just have to die. Are you happy! Are you happy now?”


  She only had seconds of consciousness left. She couldn’t lose. Failure meant that her entire kind was doomed, and perhaps the rest of the Shifter species, as well. Whereas she had been fine with her death before, she now realized that she had no option but to win.

  She let go of her animal form completely and her body rapidly shrunk, giving her just enough space to reach into her cleavage and pull out the swiss-army knife.

  In one solid motion, she flicked it out and rammed the blade into the side of Creed’s neck, dragging as she shoved it in.

  He let out a choking sound and tried to rear back, but Jaelle wrapped her free hand in the collar of his shirt, holding him as best she could. Blood spurted down from his neck, joining the spittle that already covered her.

  Poor Creed tried to struggle, tried to yank himself away, but she didn’t let him go until the blade came out of the other side of his neck. He collapsed to the side of her, and she could feel him writhing and gurgling, his wolfsbane-dosed body unable to keep up with the damage she had done.

  It was a horrific few minutes, laying there as he died beside her. It wasn’t peaceful, and it wasn’t cathartic. It was just… sad. It took him far longer than it would take any human to go, and she supposed that was due to what was left of his Shifter healing abilities trying to fight death.

  But in the end, they lost, which meant she won.

  It didn’t feel like much of a victory, however, as she lay there in a pool of his blood. There was no triumph, no gold trophy. Just the cold knowledge that she had done what needed to be done.

  She didn’t know how long it took her to stand, but when she did, Creed had long since grown cold. She looked down at his body, figuring she owed him at least that much for taking his life.

  Like all Shifters, he had returned to its human form in death. It was strange, seeing him so lifeless, with all of the maniacal light gone from his eyes, it was easy to see him as just a college-aged young man who had been taken too soon. His crystalline eyes were opened wide in horror, his mouth open as if he had died pleading for just a little bit of air. Veins stood out as if colored by marker against his skin, and blood, dark and thick, coated him from neck to mid-chest.

  “Goodbye, Creed,” Jaelle murmured, tipping her head slightly. And that was all the sendoff she gave him.

  After all, she still had work to do.

  Chapter Ten: The Perfect Disguise

  As much as Jaelle would have loved to go find out just how opulent the warden’s bedroom was, she couldn’t afford to let Creed continue to sit there. It would only be a matter of time before someone smelled the ripe scent of his blood. She assumed the only reason the men hadn’t come barreling in already was because there was so much distance, and no doubt different heating systems between the two halves of the building.

  So, she got moving. First was the bathroom, where she found floral spray sitting at the back of the toilet just like she expected. She grabbed it and the potpourri, then headed back to his body.

  She shook the aerosol then walked the entire perimeter of the room, spraying everywhere she went. Instantly, the cloying scent burrowed into her nostrils, and she surmised that her senses were returning back to normal just in time for her to blitz them. Fantastic.

  Well, at least her sense of sarcasm survived murdering the only other Aberrant she had ever known. It wasn’t like she had never killed someone before. Unfortunately, her life had led her to attack, maim, and sometimes end the lives of those who were after her. Like the cayote gangsters, for example. But still… killing Creed felt different.

  Maybe it was because he was the only of her kind she had ever known. Maybe it was because her goal had been to kill him for so long that it felt strange to have that behind her. She didn’t know, and she certainly didn’t have time to figure it out.

  She shook her head, and went back to work. Scattering potpourri around Creed’s body, she lifted him and started hauling his body toward the bathroom.

  It seemed her Shifter strength wasn’t all the way back yet, because she couldn’t fully pick him up. Instead, she half-dragged, half-carried the man to the tub and dumped him in.

  “Stay here,” she grumbled before crouching under the sink and looking for something to help her. “Aha!” Reaching in, she pulled out a container of bleach. Perfect. Hopefully none of the guards would be suspicious about why the place smelled so clean, but her fingers were crossed that the floral scents would somewhat cover up the astringent smell of the harsh chemicals.

  And then she went to work.

  It took her much longer than she thought it would to clean the blood out of the carpet. By no means did she give a flying fuck what it looked like, hence her rampant use of the bleach. The only thing she cared about was what it smelled like, and so far no one was banging on the door, so she assumed it was okay.

  By the time she finished, her back was sore, and her fingers stung from the bleach. But she couldn’t stop there. She had still had the body to deal with.

  Crossing to the kitchen, she went to the fridge and started pulling shelves out. The only food that seemed to be left was condiments, bread and some lunchmeat, the rest of it having been cleaned out by Creed earlier, no doubt.

  Once it was completely empty, she headed back to the bathroom. What little blood was left in Creed had drained out in the bathtub, staining him all the way down his back. Jaelle did her best not to gag and hauled the dead Aberrant out once more.

  Enough time had passed that her strength had returned, so this time, she carried him bridal-style to the kitchen. It took a bit of maneuvering, but she managed to get him into the fridge without too much of a struggle.

  Closing the door, however, was another matter entirely. Every time she got close, something flopped out. Whether an arm, or a leg, or even his head, his corpse seemed determined to fight her.

  It might have been comical in another world. One where she hadn’t murdered him with a pocketknife. But as it was, she felt fresh, hot tears start to rise to the surface.

  No. She didn’t have time for this. With a grunt, she kicked at his arm, then pushed with all of her might. The body let out a crunching sound, but the door stayed shut.

  “Now, since that’s done, time to clean up.”

  Jaelle didn’t know when she had developed the habit of speaking to herself, but it was better than the menu music from the DVD player on repeat. Oh, right, she could turn that off now.

  She searched the table for the remote, only to realize that it had disappeared somewhere in the scuffle. How strangely banal, needing to look for something as simple as a remote after what she had been through. Yet that was exactly what she had to do.

  It took her longer than she would have liked to admit, but eventually, she gave up and just manually turned off both the TV and DVD player. The silence was almost deafening for a moment, and she stood there, listening to her breath rasp in her lungs.

  The mood quickly faded however, and she went back to the task at hand, which was currently cleaning herself up.

  Back to the shower, which was coated with sticky red that was quickly turning brown. Grabbing the remainder of the bleach, she poured it into the tub and turned on the hot water.

  It took several minutes, but eventually it was somewhat decent. Jaelle shed her clothes then stepped in, letting the hot spray pour over her.

  Now, that was cathartic. A sigh escaped her lips, and she grabbed the nearest body wash then sudsed up. She stayed in until the water grew lukewarm, then carefully stepped out.

  Grabbing a nearby towel, she wiped off and then hung it up. She was naked as she stepped back into the massacred living room, and that wouldn’t do at all.

  There were only two closed doors left now, so she supposed it had to be one of those. Crossing the room and avoiding the part of the carpet that was still soaked with bleach, she turned the knob only to find herself in some sort of walk in closet full of dresses, petticoats and the like. Definitely not what she needed.

  She exited and went
to the final door right next to it. Opening that one, she found herself in the room she was looking for.

  It just as nice as the living room, but with a different color scheme. Instead of gold and crème, it was blue and that same shade of just-off-white. The furniture was all dark wood with gold embellishments, making Jaelle wonder just how much the warden made, or if he made anything at all, and his swanky accommodations were just a part of the package.

  It wasn’t like she was going to get answers anytime soon, however, and she quickly strode over to the dresser. There, she pulled open the drawers and found everything she needed. Boxers, slacks, a button up, socks, the whole nine yards. Of course, none of them would fit her petite form in her current state, but she wasn’t going to stay in Jaelle-form much longer.

  She sat on the edge of the bed, her skin crawling as she prepared herself for what she needed to do next. It was one thing to kill a man, it was another entirely to take on his skin.

  But that was exactly what she had to do. Calming herself, she replayed all the memories she had of Creed, recalling how his mouth moved when he talked, the smell of him shifted and at ease. The lay of his hair, the scent of his blood. Everything. Like a movie within her head, all their interactions played one right after the other, mapping out the path for her curse to take her.

  The transition started in her hands. They grew bigger and her fingers became thicker. Blond hair appeared on the back of her knuckles. Scars. A couple freckles. Then it began rippling up her arms. They were longer, sinewy. Bit by bit, her body morphed, until she felt herself slide completely into her new form.

  She stood, almost startled that she was much higher off the ground than she had been just minutes ago. She recovered quickly, however, and headed over to the large mirror above an ornate vanity toward the end of the bed.