Dead Shifter Walking

by Kim Schubert

  “Get away from me, Olivia,” he whispered hoarsely.

  Smart enough to listen, I dashed up the stairs, pulling Lorraine behind me as we turned the corner, Steven’s body throwing plaster down on us as he hit the ceiling and groaned weakly.

  Pushing us into the first open room, I slammed the door and locked it, pressing my back against the wooden barrier, feeling good about our near escape as I sucked in oxygen, slightly light-headed.

  Logan’s grandfather was pulling energy from me, not a lot, but in my currently depleted state, I felt the difference.

  I had just opened my mouth in an attempt to calm the still screaming Lorrain, for my poor ears’ sake when a solid force connected to the door at my back. Holding my breath, I waited a heartbeat, hoping it was only Logan’s grandfather still throwing around Steven before the force connected again, splintering the door.

  Without thought, I pushed the now hyperventilating Lorraine into the bathroom, slamming the door closed behind her as I turned to face Logan’s wild eyes.

  “Easy,” I said gently, holding a hand out.

  He cleared the distance between us easily in one leap, pulled my body into his, and nuzzled his five o’clock shadow into my neck.

  I sagged against him, relieved. In my current shape, I couldn’t stop Logan from killing me or Lorraine. I could slow him down, but even at full capacity, a fight to the death between us would be close.

  His warmth seeped into my body as my arms wrapped around him, eyes closing, feeling his energy pushing into my own to help support me. I sucked in a shocked breath. What the hell was going on?

  Outside the door, the noise had stopped. I opened my heavy lids, heaving a deep sigh as naked Grandpa stood outside the destroyed door with Steven’s head in his hand, dripping fresh blood onto the carpet.

  “You may want to consider tile,” I muttered, feeling Logan release me, turning to survey the scene.

  He sighed, annoyed and back in control.

  We both turned as the bathroom door opened and a tear-stained Lorraine emerged. I cringed seeing her; she was not a pretty crier.

  “Logan,” she wailed, throwing herself into his side.

  Untangling myself from him, I felt my core cool reluctantly at the reminder of who and what we were. Logan didn’t take his eyes off of me as I gave him a half smile; energy did weird things to people. Certainly, after all of this was over, we would get a killer laugh at the absurdity of this situation.

  Shaking my head, I turned to Gramps. “Release me,” he commanded.

  “Do you know how?” I asked, looking down at the head of the now dead mage who could have answered that question.

  He growled as I scratched my head.

  “I have an idea,” I said, feeling exhaustion seeping into my bones. “Logan, you good to drive?” He nodded, still awkwardly holding Lorraine.

  “Let’s take this party on the road,” I muttered.

  Chapter 26

  Pulling up to the dilapidated warehouse, I could hear my trusty band of fighters arguing as they battled against the energy field keeping them locked inside.

  Gramps awkwardly got out of the backseat, still carting around Steven’s dead head. I wasn’t sure if he even realized it, but I certainly wasn’t going to bring it up, considering his unstable mental faculties.

  “Logan!” Darren yelled, “it isn’t safe!” attempting to warn us as we walked to the mental rollup door.

  “I believe we are in the clear,” Logan answered, motioning to the head hanging down from his grandfather’s hand.

  “Shit,” Darren muttered as I took in the red field holding them in.

  “Everyone alright?” I asked.

  “Yeah,” Darren responded, “pissed as hell, though.”

  I smiled. “I can only imagine. So any ideas on how to get you out of here?”

  “None. Jerry took Blake and Blue to try and gather supplies for some super magic.” He shrugged. “That was a bit ago. None of our cell phones work. This barrier is no joke.”

  “How can it exist if Steven is dead?” Logan asked.

  We all shrugged. Magic wasn’t something I dabbled in.

  “Twins alright?” I asked with a sigh, resting my hand against the field.

  “Yeah, just shaken up,” Darren answered, casting a look over his shoulder.

  I nodded, my eyes no longer seeing into the warehouse but the energy running through the shield. Cords of burnt orange tangled with brilliant yellows weaved with blood reds in my mind, and I pulled against them gently at first, curious, before I tugged again, feeling a give.

  “Get DOWN!” Jerry screamed, right before I pulled with all my strength.

  The cords snapped like an elastic band does when pulled too far past its capacity, flinging outwards with a force that smashed me against the car window shattering the glass and sucking into my body.

  “No one TOUCH her!” Jerry screamed again as the pounding footsteps slid to a stop uncertainly.

  Drawing a ragged breath, I had to blink a handful of times before I could actually see the blue sky above me, rolling to my side on the black car.

  “Fuck,” I whispered, feeling my entire body pounding.

  Jerry looked down at me, pissed, actually livid. “What the fuck were you doing?” he demanded, his teeth clenched.

  “Oh, you know, attempting to blow myself up,” I said good-naturedly, sitting up, regretting it as my head swam and I sagged back down.

  “How the fuck did you do that?” he asked, glaring at me.

  Pushing all the way up Blake’s worried face came into view. “It had bands; I broke them,” I said with a shrug.

  “No, how did you absorb Steven’s power?” he asked again, dark eyes intent on my own.

  “Uh, I… oh, shit,” I muttered, casting a glance at Logan’s Grandfather. “Probably when I freed Gramps, which would also explain why he’s still functioning.”

  Jerry nodded, watching me closely as I stared back at him unblinking. I suppose getting himself trapped in a warehouse was bound to make him cranky, but I wasn’t in the mood.

  “Do you have any idea what you have done?” Jerry hissed at me as I stood on unstable feet.

  “No, Jerry, I do not, but you speaking in cryptic questions sure as fuck ain’t going to help me figure out how to fix it,” I yelled back, cradling my head.

  Jerry stepped back as I leaned heavily against the damaged car. “We need to go,” I reminded him as the sirens wailed in the distance. I would explain everything to Mercer, just not right now. Being detained with a naked dead shifter didn’t seem like a good idea, not to mention the head he was still clinging to.

  …

  Straddling a naked Gramps in his destroyed coffin, six feet below ground, still clutching the head of Steven, I focused on what Jerry had tersely told me.

  “Draw all of the magic into yourself from him, every last drop; it is the only way he will have peace,” Jerry had said intently.

  “Right, because clearly I, the succubus executioner, can see magic,” I mumbled to myself.

  “What?” Jerry called down.

  “Nothing,” I answered, my irritation and anger wanting out of the tight confines as I bound them deeper inside of me.

  My anger left a red trail as I pushed it deeper, locked down tight. Sighing, I tilted my head to see the orange surrounding Gramps.

  “Oh shit,” I whispered, raising a hand and seeing the faint outline of Steven’s magic surrounding it.

  Finally, now we were in business. Drawing the magic, as I manipulated my own emotions, I pulled, twisting and sucking every drop of orange that wanted to stick onto Gramp’s body.

  From the gasps and muttering above, I assumed it was working.

  Magic, unlike my emotions, burned hot, pricking my skin, boiling under the surface, and, unlike my emotions, it was damn hard to control, strands kept reaching out, trying to get back into the now lifeless body.

  Once I felt fairly confident I could remove my focus from the magic and
climb out of the coffin, I did so very ungracefully and without help.

  Panting from the effort to contain the magic, I looked up, on my knees, into Jerry’s cold eyes.

  “Done,” I told him as I pushed myself into a standing position.

  “This is going to hurt,” he warned, his voice emotionless.

  “Bring it on,” I demanded as he reached out and gripped my hand.

  Fire sliced through my veins where he pulled the magic from, tearing apart the delicate framework of my body into a thousand pieces. I was certain, even with my advanced healing, I would never recover from it. The orange magic screamed as it was pulled, echoing out of my mouth in a pitch so high I could never produce it on my own. Throwing my head back, I could see Jerry’s own dark energy pulsing as he absorbed the new influx of power.

  His dark power silenced the voice and left me dry. Shoulders hunched, I looked at him with new understanding. He wasn’t just a driver and magic dabbler; Jerry was a powerful mage who could level city blocks if he decided to.

  So why was he hanging around my little old town pretending differently?

  As he saw the knowledge in my eyes, his shoulders straightened, preparing for words every smart person would have said.

  I’ve never been accused of being intelligent, but I have been called a whore, violent, mindless, demon; all those I could relate to. Whatever secrets he was hiding, I wouldn’t be the one to force them to light.

  Instead, I just nodded. “Done being cranky?” I asked, rubbing the hand he touched.

  Shock registered across his features for only a moment before he put on his good ol’ boy smile. “Nope, not hardly. We still got a hell of a mess to clean up.”

  I groaned, trudging pass him back to the cars.

  He was right; we did.

  Chapter 27

  “I cannot believe I let you drag me here,” I hissed at Grams.

  “Relax, Olivia, they don’t know we’re supernaturals, only that we are part of the Council, here to support the vampires and update the public on the death of the horrible person responsible for killing all those innocent families,” Grams said, smoothing out her turquoise pant suit. She looked good, unlike me in jeans and a matching turquoise tank top under my leather jacket. I wasn’t sure what confidence I was supposed to be bringing to the table.

  Tate nodded at me across the long white table with some random sport sponsor logo behind us printed on cheap plastic. Really?

  Logan and his band of shifters were nowhere to be seen, while it was his total and complete fault that Steven was allowed to become so out of control, it was politically better if only one group of supernaturals were present at this press conference, wrapping up the puppet master case.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, if you will all please take your seats, we can begin the update from the Supernatural Council,” Governor Hash began with a fake smile on his slimy face. That man sent disgusting shivers down my spine every time his false smile stretched his thin lips.

  “But before we do, I would like to say a few things.” I scowled; should have seen that one coming. Grams kept her calm and composed smile. “We have done everything in our power to identify and stop the supernatural monster behind these senseless and brutal killings. The Supernatural Council has been assisting our lead Detective Mercer on the case and he has the update on the gritty details of how this went down. For now, please know that everything has been taken care of and the threat eliminated.” Hash finished, his eyes attempting to intently relay that everything was under control.

  He was a fool; tomorrow there would be another monster to vanquish, another supernatural or human psychopath walking free or created in the darkest hours of their own psyche.

  I glanced at Mercer’s face turning red; apparently, he didn’t enjoy public speaking. Stepping stiffly to the podium, he fidgeted with his jacket before stuttering into the microphone. My chair, scraping against the stage, was brutally loud in the silence. I smiled at Mercer as his shoulders relax. “Actually, I’d like to hand this off to Olivia, who has been working with me.”

  I smiled, clapping Mercer on the back. “We can finally say we have successfully ended the killer named, the puppet master.”

  “Where is he?” asked a reporter.

  “Dead,” Mercer said, his shoulder stiffening back up.

  “Why did it take so long and so many deaths before you found him; was it due to the supernaturals who kill everything in their path?”

  “Only the ones who deserve it,” I said, leaning toward the microphone as Mercer went back to his seat.

  “Who made you judge, jury, and executioner?” he asked with pure hatred lacing his words.

  “No one, those are constructs of your justice system,” I answered him honestly, wrapping down the need to kill him. I certainly didn’t want to prove his whole mindless killing theory was accurate.

  “It seems like a poor way of dealing with your problems, killing so many,” he said with a flick of his pen in his notebook.

  “We protect our own from any and all threats,” I answered.

  “What about your own threat to us?” he asked with plain hostility.

  “You create enough threats for yourselves,” I answered right back quickly.

  “No, we protect everyone and give the accused rights, something you and your kind, could never understand,” he finished, his lip curling in malice.

  “You are telling me you are happy with your current system of dealing with sex offenders?” I asked, astonished at the thin reporter who began this dialogue before my eyes roved over the crowd. “You are perfectly happy that they are arrested, if the children they abuse are ever brave enough to come forward and someone believes them, then go to trial, where they may or may not be found guilty, serve their time, and are released back into the community?”

  No one spoke up.

  “That is a pathetic attempt to protect your innocent children. The Supernatural Council, when given evidence of a supernatural sex crime, eliminates said supernatural. They kill them, they destroy the body so it cannot be reanimated, and protect the children. Because we understand something you clearly have yet to comprehend, hurting others by choice is a choice that will always be made again.”

  “But you sickos have sex clubs,” a blonde middle-aged woman in the back yelled out.

  “Correct, and no one there is forced to be there,” I answered, growing bored.

  “How can you be so certain?” The annoying skinny reported asked, clearly having been thrown a lifeline.

  “Because we have a reputation,” I began “of being ruthless to those who force others into the sex clubs, who use drugs to coerce, but, more importantly, we have a reputation of protecting our own,” I finished with heat.

  “You are inhumane,” the blonde woman said again. “You vamps feed off our blood.”

  “But we don’t kill,” Tate said over the chorus of outcry.

  “Show them, Tate,” I said, slipping off my leather jacket and pulling my hair out of the way. He stood up abruptly, his eyes ambering.

  “Are you mad to show them what they fear the most?” he hissed at me.

  “No one does well with lies and attempts to please; show them the truth, that you can stop when you want and don’t hurt me,” I said again, ignoring the yelling happening behind him.

  He was silent for a moment before he agreed, stepping behind me. “If Blake asks, this was your idea.”

  “Fine,” I said as the crowd grew silent.

  Tipping my head to the side, I gave him full access, watching the crowd as they waited with all the anticipation of an audience at a magic show.

  Slowly he lowered his head so I could feel his breath before his fangs descended. At least, I assumed they did based on the crowds united gasp. “I hope you’re right about his,” he warned before breaking my skin. Instantly the contentment and safety of his bite overwhelmed my senses, and I pushed that emotion out to all those present, visibly relaxing my body against him.

&nb
sp; “It doesn’t hurt,” someone gasped.

  “It almost looks pleasant,” said another, shocked.

  Finishing, Tate sealed my wounds, seductively licking his bite for the audience. “Any other takers?” he asked. Hands flashed up from the audience as Tate smiled. “I should really make you head of PR,” he murmured, pleased.

  “Not on your undead life, buddy,” I said, slipping my jacket back on.

  Passing by Grams, shaking her head, I shrugged. “I got it done.”

  “Yes, and by what means?” she asked, disapprovingly.

  “By whatever means necessary to overcome their fear,” I answered, leaving the press conference.

  …

  I threw my bag down in Gram’s study disgusted, annoyed, and frustrated with a world I didn’t much enjoy or like right now, and let’s not forget I just busted my ass to save.

  “Blasted humans,” Kass said, plopping into the red modern chair I hated before digging into her purse for chocolate.

  Settling down on the slanted arm next to her, I reached for her candy. “Hey, back off the pregnant lady’s stash,” she warned.

  I laughed, popping the dark chocolate in my mouth as Gram’s walked in, stretching her shoulders.

  Chapter 28

  My mouth wouldn’t stay shut as Kass and I accidently spied on Grams and Mercer involved in a low conversation at Luigi’s. I was shocked when Grams laughed, her eyes dancing with mirth as Mercer leaned forward covering her hand with his own larger one.

  “When the fuck did this happen?” I asked, still staring in shock.

  Kass sipped on her lemonade before shrugging and smiling broadly. “Sometime around when you went missing; he stopped by the manor to look for you and found Grams instead.”

  “I’m not sure how I feel about this,” I said, meaning every word.

  “Oh stop,” Kass chided me. “She’s a woman who has her own wants and needs.” She finished heavily, emphasizing needs.

  I made a face. “She has never had those…” I floundered for the right word before borrowing Kass’s “needs until now.”