Shifters in the Shadows: Seventeen Paranormal Romances of Sexy Shifters, Dangerous Vamps, & Things That Go Bump in the Night

by J. K Harper

“Because, that’s what I do, you know. Make people happy.” As soon as the words were out, I wished I could suck them back in. Way to go, Astrid! “Not that kind of happy!” I blurted out.

  A startled snort of laughter erupted from him as he considered me. “I didn’t think that for one minute.”

  I took another step, putting us nearly chest to chest. Or more like, my chest to his stomach. I peered up at him. “Maybe just for one second?”

  He shook his head, then the corner of his mouth curled up in a half-grin. “Okay. I imagined it for one second.”

  I couldn’t help myself. “Was I good?”

  He closed his eyes briefly, as if pondering the question. Then his eyes flashed open, flames flickering within the brown. “Very good.”

  Heat radiated from him, rolling over me in a physical wave that had the hairs on my arms standing on end and goosebumps chasing down my arms. It had been a long time since I’d stood this close to a dragon and I’d forgotten how hot they got.

  Read him. I rocked forward, my lips pursing with concentration as I tried to penetrate his shield.

  Nothing.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Hmmm?” I murmured, poking at his mind with mine. Nada. Nothing. Dammit!

  He cleared his throat, a muscle jumping in his jaw. “Bastian sent me to—”

  “And I still think you’re lying,” I answered, cutting him off. “Now, be quiet and let me read you.”

  “Read me?”

  I closed the now minuscule gap, laying my hand on his chest. The steady thump of his heart thudded beneath my fingers, the soft cotton of his T-shirt bunching as my hand flexed of it’s own accord. Heat burned up my arm, tingling and dancing along my skin.

  “This isn’t a good idea.…” His voice was a distant rumble.

  I could hear him but I wasn’t listening, my mind caught in a whirl of images, colliding and crashing in glorious Technicolor detail. Naked limbs thrashing, glistening skin sliding, and muffled moans as the man in front of me holds me tight and thrusts deep inside. And I’m welcoming him, my body open and willing and hot and burning with an intensity that—

  Black eclipses everything, the world spinning away.

  “Shit!” The word was carried on a breeze, too far away for me to respond.

  I sank into a blissful blackness.

  Chapter 3

  Trent

  My arms shot out, catching her before she could hit the floor. Scooping her up, I studiously ignored the soft warmth of her body, how plump and luscious her ass felt through her voluminous skirts, snuggled in the crook of my arm. How her breath caressed my neck like invisible fingers stroking and caressing with light, teasing glances. And I definitely ignored the way my cock hardened with each brush of her breast against my chest.

  I glanced around, looking for somewhere to lay her down. I couldn’t exactly deposit her on the counter; for one, it didn’t look sturdy enough, and two, it would be just plain weird. Spying a door at the back, I headed for it like a man on a mission. Shouldering the swaying curtain of beads out of the way, I squeezed through the narrow opening, emerging into a tiny kitchen, complete with arm chairs and a coffee table. Even back here Astrid’s sense of style dominated the room, the bright colors and sparkly accents everywhere the eye could see. I didn’t hold back the snort of laughter. And she denies she’s a dragon shifter?

  Laying her gently in a chair, I resisted the urge to tug at her stray strands of hair to undo the messy pile, instead letting them slip through my fingers like fine silk. Snatching my hand away, I strode the two short steps into the kitchen area and started banging around looking for the coffee pot. This wasn’t going anything like how I’d planned it—first, I’d scared the woman, and then I had somehow managed to make her pass out. Nice job, asshole.

  “What are you looking for?” Her voice was a throaty whisper, designed to tug at my rapidly unraveling control.

  “Coffee,” I ground out, not turning around.

  “I prefer tea.”

  This time I did glance over my shoulder, letting my eyebrows do the talking.

  At my look of utter disgust, she chuckled. “You’re not the first fellow American to turn their nose up at my exquisite taste buds. Let me fix you some, and then you can give me your honest opinion.” She rolled up off the chair in a sinuous glide, raising her arms above her head and arching her back in a languorous stretch that nearly had my eyes popping out of my head.

  She shot me a smirk, letting me know that my ogling hadn’t gone unnoticed, and proceeded to eject me out of the small kitchenette with a pointed finger.

  “Are you feeling okay?” I eyed her dubiously as she dragged a teapot out of a cupboard and proceeded to measure what looked like black mulch into it. This was the weirdest first meeting I could ever remember having.

  She hummed under her breath for a moment, turned to the stove and flicked the top of the kettle open. Taking her time, she peered inside, closed it again, and flicked the burner on. “Better than I’ve felt in a long time,” she eventually said, spinning around to lean back against the counter. She was eyeing me the way a cat might eye a mouse, her eyes narrowed as she scanned my face.

  Forcing myself to relax under her scrutiny, I melted back into the chair she had recently vacated, pulling a leg up over one knee. “Care to share why the sudden change of heart?”

  She titled her head, her emerald eyes daring me. “You first.”

  “Like I said, your brother sent me to bring you home.”

  “Why?”

  I paused, choosing my next words carefully. “Because he misses you.”

  She let out an undignified snort, folding her arms across her chest. “Uh, nope. That doesn’t sound like Bastian.”

  She was right. Even in the short while I had known Bastian I’d figured out he wasn’t the type to admit to a weakness, and I was pretty sure love was included in that list.

  “Now, if you’d said he needed me for some sort of scheme he’s hatching, then I might have believed you.”

  I dodged the implied question. “Can’t a brother miss his sister? From what I’ve been told, you ran off without a single word of goodbye.”

  The kettle shrieked, cutting off any reply. Flicking off the gas, she splashed water into the pot, the sweet scent of tea curling out on a cloud of steam.

  “Why did you run?” I’d always wondered. Bastian had only told me the basics; what I needed to know to start my search and nothing more. The facts that I’d been provided with: his sister was a dragon shifter, she was beautiful, and ditzy, and she’d left the Jewelcrest clan without a word. As the alpha’s sister, she would have had to ask for nothing, enjoying a life of leisure and luxury. Her clan was one of the richest in America—something I tried really hard not to despise.

  She set a small china cup down in front of me, settling herself into the opposite chair. Kicking off her shoes, she curled her legs up underneath her gorgeously plump ass and cradled her own cup to her chest, as though basking in its warmth. A bleakness stole over her face, her eyes filling with a deep sorrow that darkened the brilliant emerald to a murky moss-green. Blowing a puff of air over the steaming cup, her eyes met mine. “I’d rather not talk about it.”

  The anticipation that had gripped me evaporated with a pop. Did it really matter? All I had to do was convince—

  “I’ll come with you.”

  My mouth fell open.

  “If … you try the tea.” She motioned to the untouched cup, mischief tugging at her lips.

  I forced my mouth closed, trying to keep up. What is she playing at?

  She jabbed a finger toward the tea, her lips set in a determined line.

  Feeling more than a little off balance, I resigned myself to forcing the foul looking mixture down and gritted my teeth. Grabbing the cup, I swallowed a mouthful. Smooth warmth slid down my throat as flavors exploded on my tongue. Sweet and sharp and delicate, I could detect notes of blackberry and mint. I took another sip, this time taking my time.<
br />
  Approval shone in her eyes. “You’ll do,” she declared, jumping to her feet.

  “I’ll do what?”

  “Let me grab a couple of things and then we can go,” she continued as if I hadn’t spoken, dashing across the room in a flurry that sent her skirts flying. Drawers banged as she wrenched them open, her fingers searching through and discarding items left, right, and center. The odd thing made it into the bag she’d grabbed off the counter, but not one thing was something she could wear. Spinning around, she hefted the bag onto her shoulder and gave me a big grin.

  “Are you forgetting something?” I hadn’t moved, hadn’t had time to.

  “Oh, yes!” She tugged open another drawer and pulled out a passport, brandishing it in the air like a weapon.

  “Clothes?”

  Wordlessly she pointed at the floor, to the right of my chair.

  Leaning over, I spied a small suitcase, bulging at the seams. The zipper wasn’t pulled closed, and midnight blue lace spilled out of the small opening. As though driven by an unseen force, I hooked a finger through the lace and tugged. The tiniest pair of panties dangled from my hand, two scraps of lace held together by a thin line of elastic. I swallowed hard, unable to peel my eyes away.

  Then they were gone; snatched away and shoved back into the case, the zipper closing with a definitive crunch.

  The spell broken, I glanced up at her, expecting her cheeks to be pink, but she met my eyes without a hint of embarrassment. I cleared my throat, gesturing at the case. “You were planning on going somewhere?”

  “Call it a hunch,” she replied.

  The scrap of blue lace was seared into my mind, visions of her sliding the lace up over soft curves playing on a constant loop. Or sliding it off … now that was a better idea. I blinked, forcing the image out of my head. “With a man?” My voice was a deep, throaty growl, one I studiously ignored. Where the fuck did that come from?

  Her eyes widened with feigned innocence. “Why would I only wear pretty things for a man?”

  It took every ounce of discipline I possessed not to let my eyes flick down her body, searching for a hint of lace. Sweet fucking hell, she’s trying to kill me. Lurching to my feet, I scooped up the case and gestured toward the door, not trusting myself to speak.

  A faint smile playing at her lips, she brushed past me on her way to the door.

  The faint musk of her arousal perfumed the air, dragging an immediate visceral response from my body.

  Fuck trying to kill me, she was going to succeed.

  Chapter 4

  Trent

  Her silence was unnerving. Not to mention the way she had worried her bottom lip the entire time walking to the train station, her blunt, white teeth dragging the plump skin back and forth with monotonous determination.

  But she was here; she’d agreed to come with me.

  I should be happy, right?

  All I had to do was deliver her back to her brother, then my debt would be paid and my clan would be free to forge their own path once more. And I would be free to seek my own path and start the search for my mate, something that had been put on hold for the last two years.

  What her brother had planned for her was none of my damn business.

  She is ours to protect … my dragon whispered in my head.

  No, she’s not, and you’d better get your big scaly head around that idea, I sent back. But his words lingered, tugging at something deep inside. Regret? I dismissed the idea. The only regret I had was getting involved with the Jewelcrest clan in the first place.

  Clearing a path through the thick crowd, I escorted her to the correct platform. Glancing at the screen, I saw that we had another eight minutes before the train was due.

  She stood next to me, her fingers curled tight around the strap of her bag, her eyes shadowed in deep thought as she stared out across the sea of people, seeing nothing.

  A tightness pinched my chest at the look in her eyes. Clearing my throat to get her attention, I rocked back on my heels, shoving my hands in my pockets to stop myself from reaching out across the small space between us. “Why haven’t you gone back? I mean, before now? Jewelcrest is your home.”

  She glanced at me. “My home is here,” she murmured, then her eyes flicked back to the crowd.

  Silence weighed heavy between us, thick and frustrating.

  It shouldn’t matter; how she felt shouldn’t matter to me.

  But it does.

  I opened my mouth, a plan to coax the truth out of her poised on the tip of my tongue, when she began speaking, her voice barely above a whisper.

  “I was only eight years old when I first heard the voices. They were soft back then, whispers and snippets that I could easily dismiss as being daydreams. I thought everyone heard them, at one point I thought it might be my dragon, that she was finally talking to me.” She laughed, a hollow sound. “But I realized soon enough that dragons only had one voice, and I could hear many.”

  I stayed silent, willing her to continue.

  “I didn’t tell anyone, of course. What would I have said? I hear voices? I’d have been laughed at, or locked up and labelled insane. It wasn’t until I was twelve that the voices grew louder, and I couldn’t turn them off anymore. They spoke to me every day, whispering everyone’s secrets in my ears.” She turned to me, her eyes wide and bright as she remembered. “I didn’t want to know their darkest secrets, or their deepest desires. No one should know the depravity of another person’s inner thoughts, the dark and twisted musings that—unless the person is a monster— would never be acted upon. But I did. I knew.” Her voice broke on the last word, a strangled echo of the child she had once been and the horrors she had heard.

  I moved toward her, acting on instinct, but she threw up a hand to stop me.

  “You need to hear this, to know what I am.”

  “I know what you are—”

  “Do you? What did my brother tell you? That I’d lost my mind? Did he tell you about the day I left?”

  I froze, held in place by the look of torture in her eyes.

  “I was sixteen. I’d hidden my true nature from my clan for eight years, weathering their pitying stares and enduring their spiteful whispers insisting that I was a defect. A shifter without a beast; I was powerless. Bastian had just risen to lead the clan, honoring our parents’ memories with his power and strength. And what was I doing? I was a sham, a failure, an outcast.” Her words punctuated the air with streaks of bitterness and self-loathing.

  “Your dragon has never spoken to you?”

  “My dragon, if I ever had one, turned her back on me a long time ago. When I needed her, she wasn’t there.”

  “Astrid—”

  “That day, on my sixteenth birthday, the voices roared, refusing to be silenced or unheard. We’d gathered in the square for my brother’s ceremony and I remember falling to my knees. I remember everyone’s faces as I let the voices out, screamed their secrets to the sky. For the first time in my life people were scared of me. Terrified. Then they’d screamed back, shouting and telling me to shut up, to be quiet. But I couldn’t, it hurt, the voices were too big, there were too many to be silenced.”

  “What did they do, Astrid?” my voice was a low growl, my hands curling into fists at my sides. Her words painted a picture in my head of a young girl with sleek dark hair, on her knees in the dirt, screaming and crying as a crowd closed in around her.

  “I told them to be quiet.” She said it simply, a small smile lifting her lips. As though it were the obvious answer.

  I waited for her to carry on, but she remained silent. Then it hit me, what she had done. “And they were silent?”

  She nodded, a single tilt of her head.

  Fuck. She had willed an entire clan to fall silent. And they had.

  “The fear in their eyes as they looked at me, unable to speak,” she murmured. “I could still hear them screaming at me, the voices in my head raging and hitting out, so I ran. It hasn’t happened again sinc
e that day,” she shrugged, “but I haven’t really tried.”

  “So, you ran,” I echoed, the pain of what she’d had to endure, so young and all alone, hitting me square in the chest and stealing my breath. They should have understood, should have celebrated her power, not turned on her in disgust. “Why London?”

  “I traveled all over Europe; Berlin, Paris, Prague, Rome, but London appealed to me. Here I could lose myself, I could be me. Also, the voices weren’t as loud, humans aren’t as noisy.”

  “They aren’t?”

  She shrugged, adjusting the strap of her bag on her shoulder. “I think it’s the power level. The greater the power, the louder the voice. Add to that the fact that the humans in London don’t think much beyond their own personal quandaries, such as what’s for dinner or did my spouse really cheat on me, and I can tune it out.”

  I sorted through the information, trying to figure out what to do with it. This was the perfect opportunity to come clean, to tell her everything I’d been holding back. Then she’d—

  Wait a minute…

  My eyes narrowed, a sick feeling rolling over me. “Are you reading me?”

  Chapter 5

  Astrid

  His eyes hadn’t judged me until this moment right now. “Maybe,” I shot back, for some reason not wanting to admit that when it came to him, my powers had failed me.

  He grunted, straightening up and rolling his powerful shoulders back. “Well, it’s rude.”

  I sidestepped so I was standing directly in front of him. All around us people flowed, the chatter of their thoughts blending into a low hum. “Hey! It’s not like I can switch it on and off! Don’t you think I would if I could?” I nearly reached out and shoved him, his words still stinging.

  His mouth turned down in a grimace. “Sorry. I don’t like the idea of someone being inside my head.”

  I couldn’t blame him; I wouldn’t like it either. “I’m not inside your head, numbskull. I can only read surface thoughts—things you’re actively thinking about. And I have to actually bother to listen.” Otherwise it was just a buzz in the background. By the time I’d turned seventeen I’d learned to adjust the volume inside my head. I couldn’t mute it, but it was like having the TV turned down to half volume.