Dead Shifter Walking

by Kim Schubert

  Blowing out a shaky breath, I wrapped my arms around his wide shoulders, my contentment seeping into him.

  Chapter 23

  Reluctantly, I followed Blake back into the den, plopping back on the couch that I had passed out on earlier, feeling in perfect health. Mark watched us with a raised eyebrow. “It just isn’t fair that you can heal with sex,” he said, looking down at his broken leg.

  I shrugged snuggling next to Blake. “But I can’t shift into an animal and run under the full moon.”

  “True,” Mark said, nodding. “It sure pissed off Logan,” he said with a chuckle.

  I shrugged, not giving a shit if Mr. High and Mighty got his panties into a twist.

  “Yes, now that you are done,” Logan said from behind us, “let’s get down to business.”

  I didn’t bother to look at him. “You still haven’t found him?” I asked, checking my industrial watch.

  “Oh, no, we found him all right,” Mark said. “Who do you think did this to me?”

  Tilting my head, I guessed, “The undead?”

  “No. Steven has a few new skills, including magic, that blasted the shit out of me,” Mark said, shaking his head.

  I turned to Jerry. “How?” I asked.

  Jerry shrugged. “There are various brutal ways he could be augmenting his power so quickly, but most leave behind a body trail, so I’m not sure.”

  Shrugging, I nestled closer to Blake, knowing it was only a matter of time before I was on the hunt for Steven myself. “It doesn’t matter; the twenty-four hours has expired, so it’s now my turn to find the fucker and eliminate him,” I said.

  “Everything always ends in death with you,” Lorraine said, standing next to Logan, “which is why Logan wanted to find him first.”

  “He did; look how well that went,” I replied, feeling steel settling over me. “Let’s get Mercer involved, and are there any other executioners in town?” I questioned Jerry.

  He nodded. “Blue is.”

  I smiled. “Perfect.”

  Now that Logan was willing to cooperate, we now had Steven’s home address. I did my best to leave the place in shambles.

  “How did you get a tracker on him?” Blake asked, raising a well-shaped eyebrow at me as we ransacked Steven’s temporary home.

  “When Steven was at Logan’s reporting in,” I replied, rummaging through a well-organized drawer.

  “Why?” asked Jerry.

  “Why what?” I asked, flipping over the mattress, nothing dammit. Better check inside of it, I thought, smiling as I pulled a knife from my boot.

  “Why were you stalking him?” Jerry rephrased, rummaging through papers.

  I looked at him. “To kill him,” I answered seriously.

  He nodded slowly, having no response for that.

  “I nary seen another reason Olivia uses the buggers,” Blue offered with his heavy Scottish accent.

  I shrugged; he was right.

  Stopping in my manic searching, I took a look around the sparsely furnished house. According to Logan, Steven had been here for almost six months. Yet there wasn’t enough stuff, not enough clothing, the kitchen was empty, nothing in the trash. Exiting the bedroom, something was bothering me, nagging at my subconscious.

  Mercer was running his cell phone, credit card, and bank statements back at the station, and from the lack of an excited phone call, I assumed he was coming up as empty-handed as we were.

  Turning, I took in the pristine kitchen, the undented sofa, not a nick on any of the door jams, not an ounce of mold in the bathroom. Opening up my emotional senses, I picked up nothing, a void. Slamming my fist against the table, I caused Blake to peek out from the bedroom.

  “This isn’t his place,” I hissed.

  “I don’t follow,” Blake said, watching me closely.

  “Logan lied,” I hissed, kicking the coffee table into two pieces.

  “I doubt he ever lived here; the emotional levels should register with me, but nothing, not a scent,” I said, sitting down angrily. “My tracker only works within three miles and it will take too damn long to track him down with it, if he hasn’t already ditched the vehicle.”

  “What the fuck am I going to do?” I asked, tilting my head back and hitting the thinly covered wood frame too quickly.

  “We’ll figure it out,” Blake said, running his fingers through my hair.

  “You do know of a way,” Blue said, leaned against the hallway, his short stature and cobalt gaze reminding me of things I’d rather forget.

  I growled at him.

  His posture didn’t alter. “You know I’m right.”

  “Yeah, and it also hurts like a mother,” I answered, slamming my arms across my chest. With a sinking certainty, I knew Blue was right; it was my only trustworthy option and I wasn’t going to allow Steven any additional time to kill innocent people.

  Why couldn’t shifters have a way to track each other, I fumed, kicking out my crossed leg on the couch. It’s Logan responsibility, anyway; had he handled his shit, I wouldn’t be in this situation.

  “That’s it,” I said, sitting up suddenly.

  “What?” Blake and Blue asked in unison.

  I smiled. “We are going on a field trip, boys.”

  Sliding into the passenger seat, I asked, “Logan at home tonight for that shifter meeting crap?”

  Jerry nodded, slowly removing the toothpick he had been chewing on. “Why?” he asked cautiously.

  I smiled, shrugging. “Just want to pay a friendly visit,” I said as Blake closed the door to the back seat.

  Jerry took a slow look at Blake, who shrugged. Starting the Beast, he murmured, “I hate it when you’re happy.” Casting a sidelong look at me, he added louder, “It means you’re going to do something stupid and enjoy the hell out of it.”

  Blue came up to the rolled down window. “I gotta see ’bout a few matters, now that I’m home. I’ll be seeing ya, Olie.”

  “Bet your ass, Blue,” I responded. He smiled, the exhaustion and unshaven stubble evident of a hard run. I hated to bring him into this, but I needed the backup.

  Jerry was right; I was ecstatic. I finally had a real lead, a viable option, and a plan. So my plan might involve beating the shit out of Logan; I saw no downside to that one. I giggled, and Jerry sunk lower mumbling to himself.

  “Mark there?” I asked, smiling using muscles I hadn’t used in a long time.

  He nodded, not looking at me.

  “Fantastic.”

  We pulled into the shifter compound, which now had a few guards out and about, but not enough by my count, especially if what I was guessing was true.

  When there is unrest in the packs, an executioner is called upon.

  Skipping up the steps, I rang the bell with equal measures of annoyance for taking so long to figure out the clue and excitement at the thought of harassing Logan.

  Kass opened the door with Hannah on her hip, who squealed when she saw me. “What are you doing here?” Kass asked warily, shifting Hannah.

  “Taking care of business; stay with Jerry,” I said, kissing Hannah’s cheek, brushing by her and Kass.

  I followed the voices, seeing Darren, sitting bored and looking down into his glass. His brother sat behind an ornate desk, a new addition to the house, as were the gargoyles out front.

  “You knew,” I said softly as all eyes turned to my leather clad form.

  “Knew what?” Logan asked, standing while buttoning his camel jacket uncomfortably.

  “You knew,” I said again louder. “You fucking knew that the killings were shifter related and did NOTHING!” I screamed, slamming my fists on his desk. “I wasn’t the first one to have these visions. I was just the one who did something about it,” I hissed, watching his face pale.

  Standing back up, I snarled, “I’m right, and you know it,” my disgust for him dripping from every word.

  Darren came from behind, standing next to me. “Please tell me she’s wrong,” he said, horror shading his
features.

  Logan closed his light brown eyes, shaking his head.

  “Oh, no, just wait a minute, you bitch,” said Lorraine, pushing toward the front of the crowd. “Those were just nightmares, nothing more. The fact that you have your wires crossed doesn’t mean Logan does as well,” she stated, hands on her hips, her snooty face inches from my own.

  I smiled and she wilted, but not far enough as I slammed my crown into her nose. “Oops, my bad,” I said still smiling as the blood gushed from her nose. No one made a move to help the conniving, materialistic, selfish bitch.

  Crouching down I tilted my head at her. “Listen well, human, these matters do not involve you. Do not mistake your species again,” I added softly as Logan hauled me up by my shirt. Finally, a good fight, I thought smiling as he threw me onto the designer antique couch back, smashing the delicate wood trim as it fell to the ground under my weight.

  “You fucking know I’m right,” I yelled as he barreled at me, his face a mask of rage.

  Smiling, I twisted left, giving him a swift kick as he went by. “Gotta fight smarter than that, sweet cheeks,” I taunted merrily, jumping to the other side of the couch as I eagerly watched him strip out of the camel jacket, breathing heavily.

  “You’re going to pay,” he growled.

  “Bring it on,” I taunted, my arms wide as he flew over the couch, tackling me. Ouch, didn’t see that launch coming. Our momentum carried us into the ornate desk smashing the back of my head.

  Grunting under his weight, I taunted, “That’s what I’m talking about.”

  Logan pulled back a punch, a moment of indecision crossing his face, before Lorraine’s scream of outrage echoed the halls, and he landed the punch home. Blackness crossed my vision as I pulled my right leg, pinned so perfectly between his legs up into the family jewels. I didn’t get to see his priceless expression of pain as I rolled away, shaking the blood from my nose as my vision returned.

  I smiled on all fours watching him rolling around before I leaned back, popping my nose back into place. Giving Lorraine a bloody smile, I informed her, “That’s how it’s done.”

  “Logan, kick her ass!” she screamed, sandwiched between two beefy shifters, who didn’t appear thrilled about guarding her.

  Slowly, with ample amounts of groaning and more than a few of my favorite curse words, Logan made it to his knees looking back at me. Seeing what I could only imagine was a foolish grin and a bruised face, he laughed.

  “You are psychotic,” he said slowly, pushing to his feet.

  I shrugged standing hands on my hips. “Be honest, tight ass, you needed it. No one else gives you a fair fight.”

  He laughed harder. “You are not a fair fight; the odds are heavily stacked in my favor.”

  “Wanna keep going? I am more than game,” I answered, rolling my aching shoulders.

  “LOGAN!” Lorraine screamed, and we both cringed.

  Blake left his post at the door, coming behind me and whispering in my ear, “Baby, life with you is never going to be dull.” I shrugged as he kissed my cheek lightly.

  “Dull is highly overrated,” I said, smiling up at him looking into those bright blue eyes. Then, like a seizure, the blood drained from my face and my eyesight blacked out. I heard myself choke and fell into Blake’s arms.

  “Baby, Olivia, no,” he said, slapping my face. “Olie, baby, stay with me,” he said softly as we slipped to the ground.

  Pale pink of a nursery assaulted my senses, the smell of baby powder and an ivory crib.

  Sucking in a breath, I found myself on the ground with Blake in my face. “BREATHE!” he screamed, cupping my face as I pulled oxygen into my lungs, arching my shoulders off the ground.

  A yellow-fur-covered hand with black talons gripped the ivory crib, and it creaked in the silence of the darkened home.

  Logan had his lips pressed against mine, blowing in air as I came back, my eyes rapidly blinking as Blake thumped on my chest. I squeaked as Logan pulled back, bellowing deeply, “BREATHE!”

  A whimper escaped as the cracked, decrepit clawed hand touched the peach blanket, gently pulling it off the sleeping form of the newborn girl, her hands swaddled in pale yellow mittens.

  I screamed, thrashing against Blake and Logan.

  Pink lids were closed, content in the sleep of innocence. The clawed hand rested gently on her head. I could feel the baby’s contentment, love. It seeped from her body into the room, her emotions coating the undead. She was a succubus and she would be powerful. Steven could have found her anywhere; no one suspected they would be killed just for being a supernatural.

  I was crying. Logan’s arms circled under my bra, binding me to his chest as Blake straddled my chest, holding my shoulders into Logan. Darren and Jerry each had one of my legs.

  I drew a ragged breath, as the dead shifter slowly clenched his hand and the newborn’s skull cracked, making the only sound to permeate the silence. It left the parents alive; I could feel Steven’s smugness knowing the pain he was causing.

  A desperate, pathetic, hopeless sound reached my ears, and I realized it was me, my lungs, my voice producing the wail.

  Logan arms loosened as both Jerry and Darren let go of my legs. I heard the clink of glass, and I assumed Logan poured himself a drink. Blake cradled my face gently, asking, “Baby?”

  A sob made it past my lips. “It killed again,” I whispered, closing my eyes. “A newborn, days.”

  Blake pulled me into his body, holding me close as my emotions shut down.

  I heard someone ask muffled, “Is it always this bad?”

  Kass answered, “At first, no; she could break it and trace the undead to wherever it was killing.” She sighed, resting her hand on my head. “She, Blake, and Tate destroyed that one, but then Steven called another.”

  “Our grandfather,” Darren said softly, pressing a glass of water into my hands. I pushed tightly into Blake, struggling to control my emotions and angry that he could feel. I should be better than this; I should be able to protect him.

  “It’s okay, Olivia,” he whispered into my ear. “Don’t worry about me.”

  “Doesn’t he try to fight it?” a voice asked.

  Peeking around Blake’s shoulder, I saw the speaker, a man with an auburn head of hair cropped close, dressed in relaxed back dress pants and a skin-tight shirt.

  “He did,” I said softly as all eyes turned to me. “His strength is why I can’t breathe, why I can’t regain consciousness. He tried to show Steven to me, but all I saw was darkness.”

  I sighed, closing my eyes, handing the glass back to Darren. “It’s time,” I said softly, pulling out my phone as I struggled to stand with Blake’s help.

  “Yes?” Blue answered.

  “It’s going down now,” I said, not elaborating. His silence was broken only by a sigh.

  “What exactly is going down?” Jerry questioned me with a raised eyebrow.

  I made a grimace, answering, “Blake is going to drain me to the point where my heart almost stops.”

  “No,” Blake shouted fiercely.

  “I don’t have a choice. Between waiting for Logan and his idiotic plan to find Steven and wasting time ransacking the false address he gave us, I don’t have any more time,” I answered, feeling the newborn’s death as my responsibility.

  “I can hear you,” Logan said, draining his glass and pouring himself another.

  “And?” I asked, raising an eyebrow. “This is your entire fault.”

  “No,” Blake said, pulling back to look into my eyes. “No, I will not risk your life.”

  “I don’t have a choice,” I whispered. “I cannot go through that again.”

  The auburn-haired man spoke up. “How did you avoid the visions, Logan?” The question was heavily underlain with insult.

  “Sleeping pills,” he said softly, perched on the broken couch, taking a long swig of his drink.

  “They were not real, and how does anyone know what she is seeing is real? She could
just be delusional in addition to psychotic!” Lorraine screamed.

  Someone growled at her to my shock. “Remember what she said—” the auburn-haired man said softly.

  “Alec,” Logan warned.

  He turned away, but I caught the glowing in his eyes. Groaning, I turned to Blake. “I have to do this.”

  His eyes were misty and I hated myself for it. “Stop it,” he whispered, nodding. “Olivia, I could kill you,” he reminded me, not that I needed reminding of that particular detail.

  Shaking my head, I answered more with my emotions than my words. “I trust you,” I said simply and for the first time in my life.

  My brain understood I should be terrified, whispering those words to a man whom I was sleeping with, whom I was already needing and depending on, but my heart rejoiced at the admission. Common sense told me to pull back, demanded I stay aloof, but the walls I had constructed were crumbling and I knew there was no going back, and if I were very, very honest, I didn’t want to. That simple fact terrified me more than anything else.

  I had denied myself many things in this world and the idea of a lifelong companion was one of them.

  He sighed and Jerry added, “It will help regenerate your fangs.”

  Blake nodded, still not looking away from me, caressing my face. Pressing a firm kiss against my forehead, he pulled the knife from my boot and I couldn’t help but smile at how well he knew me.

  He moved behind me and I eased into the strength of his chest as I tilted my head now staring at the ornate desk. Inlaid into the thick wood surface was an intricate floral pattern I hadn’t noticed earlier. I forced my mind to focus on beauty and strength as Blake cut into my jugular. Blowing out a breath, I cooled my core. I could do this. I trusted Blake. I just had to find that place again where the Steven called the lion. I could do this. I had to; there was no one else.

  My lids grew heavy and my foot thumped once as my survival instinct tried to stop the vampire pulling out my life force.