Mated By The Demon Collections: Paranormal Romance

by Riley Moreno

  “Ooh,” she says suddenly, slapping her forehead. “That’s why they call it Shifter Grove. Is Sonya a Shifter?”

  “Who?” David asks.

  “Sonya Blackpaw,” Lucy says, “the Sheriff’s wife.”

  “Oh,” he says, “No. The Sheriff is though. He’s a WerePanther.”

  “Cool,” she nods and takes another swig of her coffee. “So can all of you control the Shift?”

  “Some of us can, but it takes lots of practice,” David said leaning forward.

  “So why did you take money from these people to hunt?” Lucy asked quietly.

  “Because I hate them,” David said truthfully. “I hate them for allowing my dad to abuse me and my mom for years. They knew about it but they trusted him to change. Nine times he got arrested for domestic violence,” he points to the scars on his face. “He did this to me but the Sheriff back then let him go after a week in the slammer.”

  “And that justifies the murder of their loved ones,” Lucy said.

  “He bashed my mother’s head in with an axe because of the Sheriff’s negligence,” David snarled, “yes I think they all deserve to die!”

  “Where is he now?” she asked.

  “He got ripped to pieces during a Shift,” David said, “good riddance. He was never much of a father.”

  “No I meant the Sheriff,” Lucy said.

  That took David aback.

  “I don’t know,” he said honestly.

  “So you hate this guy for not keeping your father in jail,” Lucy said, “but you don’t hate him enough to find out what happened to him and was it as bad as he deserved. You haven’t even made the effort to confront him; your own form of therapy is to let innocent people in this community die.”

  She didn’t sound angry. Just sad and David felt a tiny blossom of guilt. She had forgiven him for attacking her, for threatening her and being downright mean to a complete stranger but she’d found it in her heart to be nice to him.

  “What do you want me to do?” David asked. “Give the money back?”

  “Hell no,” she said. “Bastards like those deserve to be robbed. Keep the money but foil their plans. Tell everyone that they’re coming and scare the shit out of them.”

  “They’ve got guns,” David said.

  “And you’ve got numbers,” Lucy said. “Organize a mass raid, don’t give them a chance. It’s time you accepted the community as just a bunch of people trying to make the best of what they have. You were unlucky your father was such a bastard. You don’t have to be.”

  David mulled the idea over as she sank in next to him. She offered him her mug and he sipped her coffee, the smell of her perfume wafting in his nostrils was pleasant. He could imagine being like this with her for a long time to come.

  “Okay,” he promised. “I guess I better see Diesel.”

  Chapter Nine

  Blood Moon

  The woods were dark; the crickets sang their nocturnal songs and kept the hunters company. They were old men with new gadgets, heat vision googles to see in the dark and high powered weapons to shoot to kill.

  They were supposed to meet David Meyer at the eastern edge of the woods to show them to their cabin but he hadn’t been there. After waiting for an hour they had decided to press on, the company antsy to get started on the action.

  Grim had left his companions behind half an hour ago. The woods were strangely silent for a congregation of over two hundred Shifters. He could smell the scent of wild animals interspersed with each other, and he was reminded strongly of the Zoo in Lahore where he had gone in search of the Hazara, a small tribe persecuted and ostracized and thus made fun to hunt.

  Grim had always loved the hunt, even as a small child. He’d lure ducklings away from the pond on his father’s estate and kill them all in different ways. He’d behead one, rip the feathers and legs off the other and stab the other. Killing was such an inventive way but nothing beat a bullet shot in bone and sinew.

  After killing indigenous tribes and exotic animals on the brink of extinction Grim had wanted a new challenge, something nobody had killed before, an animal worthy of a challenge. He had chanced upon ancient Cherokee texts of men who were animals and one with the earth, Chiefs who had the ability to take the form of a specific animal and hunt in the night for their tribe.

  There was a howl a few miles north, a wolf howl, calling his brothers to join ranks. A roar followed and Grim recognized it as lion, just a few meters ahead in the woods. Jackal, hyena, tigers, leopards, panthers, bears, he recognized the calls of all.

  And then a human scream.

  The woods were filled with sounds of carnage. He knew something was amiss, his party had gone asunder and were in trouble now. He thought of going after them to help, but the quick silence of one scream and then the other told him it was too late. They had walked in to a trap.

  The Blood Moon rose high in the sky, an angry eye staring down at him, as red as the blood of the Pygmy children they had played golf with; their little bodies buried in the sand, their heads golf balls that he and his friends had swung across the field to their wailing mothers.

  There was a growl behind him, a soft pad on the earth. Grim turned around slowly. A tiger, scarred and bedraggled was prowling around him, a low guttural roar escaping its lips. The snap and crackle of a tree branch and Grim turned just in time to see a panther jump lightly on the ground cutting off his retreat on the east. A bear trundled in to the path on the west and a wily fox with sharp fangs. He was cornered.

  He lifted his gun to fire at the fox to clear a path but they all ran at him at once, he fired but missed, the scream of terror literally ripped from his mouth as the tiger swiped at his face, gouging out eyes and lips and a big chunk of his nose.

  Grim was a pile of fleshy ribbons by the time the Shifter’s were done with him, his hunting days over in a poetic fashion with him as prey.

  The Blood Moon rose higher still and the young ones, sequestered in sheds and barns on their personal properties were let out to howl in freedom; they rampaged the woodlands, their shadows lengthening in the red moonlight relishing the hunt and the duality of their nature.

  David gamboled with them, for once allowing himself to feel part of instead of apart from this community that had come together to fight a threat. He appreciated, for the first time, that the community was what its leader made it, and where the Sheriff in his childhood had been a coward, Diesel wasn’t.

  Diesel led the small party that had volunteered to keep the Blood Moon celebrations as peaceful as possible and when dawn came the only fatalities were the human hunter scum, already buried deep down in a worm filled ditch.

  Chapter Ten

  Lucy in Love

  I liked it longer but David’s gone and cut half his glorious hair off. I’m glad that he’s finally worried about his presentation but being a plain Jane myself I’m a bit worried about that. What if he finds a Hottie who is his equal and dumps me?

  He hasn’t dumped me yet and I get the feeling he’s too in awe of me to do anything like it. Sonya thinks David thinks I’m one in a million. Sonya the secretive minx. She’s more friendly now that I know about the Shifting and how both her husband and son are Shifter’s. I can’t blame her really, she’s been nice to me, letting me in on this glorious secret, because the men are glorious and gorgeous; except for Alfred who’s a WereHog; poor thing.

  We’re getting ready to go to a reception held in the town hall. It’s in honor of Diesel’s handling of the Blood Moon Festival and also marks the day David will be joining the force as deputy. I’m really proud of him. He’s getting his life sorted and I have the privilege to ride shotgun.

  My mom and dad were pleased to hear I finally had a boyfriend. Mom nearly had a coronary when she saw his picture. I still haven’t gotten round to getting them to Skype together; it will be too awkward and a disaster. Needless to say, my Friday nights are no longer Skype nights.

  “Ready?” he asks. He looks nervous. I stand on
tip toe and kiss the tip of his chin, which is the only part I can reach.

  “Yup,” I have azaleas in my hair. They look nice against the blue. My pink dress is new. I picked it out at Waterville mall.

  The town hall is full to the brim and we’ve been saved seats in the front row with Sonya and Diesel’s family from Poughkeepsie. Forrest is grumpy and keeps baring his four teeth at me. Diesel is introduced by his deputy Billy and Diesel, ever the humble family man, blushes bright red.

  “My community does me great honor today not by appreciating my efforts as its Sheriff but by allowing me the immense privilege to be part of it. I was, like many of you, wandering aimlessly trying to find a purpose, a family,” he nods towards his grinning father, “and I found it all and much more in Shifter Grove.

  “As far as the security of the Blood Moon ritual is concerned you must thank newly deputized David Meyer for his contribution was invaluable. Without him we would have been fumbling in the dark, our young ones at risk.”

  I beam up at David who’s trying hard not to grin from ear to ear. Diesel takes a seat and the band starts to play. It’s my jam so I grab David’s hand and force him on the dancefloor. He’s sleek and graceful as a jungle cat but in his own limbs he’s as awkward and gangling as a man with three legs. But I love him, the big lug.

  David tires soon. He growls and pulls me off the dancefloor. He pulls me out the door but I grab a bottle of Champagne before we go. We’re in the back of his truck lying on blankets as we stare up at the evening sky, the stars are just twinkling in to existence and the breeze is balmy.

  “You remind me a bit of her,” he says suddenly.

  “Who?” I ask but I have a sneaky suspicion I know.

  “My mom,” he says. “She was short as well. She also had a pug nose,” he pinches my nose between two fingers. “It’s what I love about you the most.”

  That’s huge. Even my mother doesn’t like my pug nose. This one is definitely a keeper.

  “I like your scars,” I say. “Call me crazy but I’ve always had a thing for men with scars.”

  “I guess it worked out for the best then,” he grins and kisses the tip of my nose.

  “It does,” I say and kiss the edge of his scar on his cheek.

  He’s damaged, and a bit feral; but he’s all mine and I love it.

  The End.

  Claimed by the Russian Billionaire

  By Riley Moreno

  Chapter 1

  Mary Joanna held back the tears. She was not going to give him the pleasure of seeing her cry. She knew her days at the needle factory were over. She had seen this coming long before it had reached this point.

  “I tried all I could Mary, but it’s just that bad” Jerry, the factory manager said, apology plastered all over his face. “The big guys at the top just don’t want anything they feel is not absolutely necessary with the economy going to the dogs”

  Mary did not believe it but she made to pick up the pink slip from the table. Jerry held her right hand, “Of course I could put on some pressure for you if you like; I could tell them how dedicated, punctual and dedicated you’ve been… that is if you do something for me”

  Mary wanted to slap the lewd smile off his face. She had suspected this whole thing was in retaliation to her repeated refusals towards his advances. If she felt put off by him before, she positively hated him now.

  Ever civil, she grabbed the pink slip and pulled her hand away, “Thanks, but no thanks. I think I’ll pass”

  “What is wrong with you?! Why are you so damn difficult all the time?” Jerry spat, jumping out of his chair “You think you’re better than any of them other girls? Than Eileen? Than Roxy?”

  “I don’t wanna hear the names of all the women you have frightened to your twisted ends Jerry! I have taken my notice and I am going home” Mary said, making for the door.

  “You think it is easy out there?! On the streets?! I took you in when nobody else would; I took you all in even when we did not need the extra personnel-you owe me!” he was almost upon her now.

  She turned to face him. Six inches taller than she was, she raised her head to look him straight in the eye, “I know what you did for me Jerry, and for that I am forever grateful but don’t you ever in your life tell me what I can and cannot do.” Jerry suddenly felt shorter all of a sudden, and he quickly remembered that Mary was no pushover. She continued, “What do you know about the streets Jerry? Growing up in your little suburban getaway-breakfasts before school, presents at Christmas? Mister I grew on the streets and it does not scare me-not anymore!”

  Jerry staring into her dark, liquid eyes felt embarrassed at her open defiance, not only at him, but at life itself. Not surprisingly he could not shake the creeping feeling of loss. The type you feel when you are about to lose something you really cherished through your own fault entirely. Most of all, he felt disappointed; just over an hour ago he had envisioned this meeting following an entirely different course, eventually ending with Mary gratefully jumping into his bed. He briefly toyed with the idea of offering her job back but he knew she would not take it. He knew she would not take it however; Mary had too much pride-or was it self-respect?

  He made up his mind not to care, “Get out of my office!” he growled into her defiant face. “And don’t come back!” he snarled at her already retreating back. The stubborn feeling of loss remained.

  ****

  Mary pulled up along the curb that lay by her house. She was surprised at the silence, Andre was supposed to be home and there was never a silent moment when he was around.

  Mary sighed, thinking of her brother Andre. Strong, athletic, good looking, he was not book smart, but he was street smart. He also had not held a real job in over three years, something which Mary had never failed to remind him of the whole time. He was not the nuisance you would expect-he managed the odd job here and there, but she knew he was capable of so much more; forget that he had not completed college.

  The apartment was set at roughly the middle of a series of similar apartments, joined end to end. It was not a pretty sight, set in a neighborhood which was not a pretty sight. She made up her mind to set Andre straight about the trash she had to skip over to get to the door.

  Not very far away, a rowdy big money card game was under way. Leander Kolarov, both drunk and alert, the way only Russians can pull off, was barely visible behind the pile of stacks he had amassed for the night. There were eight other players seated around the semi-circular table, a dealer sat at the head.

  The game, near its end, already had a winner-except Leander could somehow pull off a monumental blunder and lose the game. The others seated at the table with their poker faces intact secretly hoped he would, but following his track record, they were not about holding their breaths. None of them really needed the money. They each had more than enough, ten times over.

  “It appears you have won again today my friend” Alexander Yashin, one of the card players around the table.

  “Don’t I always?” Leander bragged playfully, a wicked grin on his face.

  “Not always, but most days,” another remarked as the game came to a close. “One would wonder if you did not have eyes at the back of your head”

  The others laughed at this remark as they shuffled to their feet. Having eyes at the back of your head was another way of saying someone cheated-a thing not beyond any seated in the dingy, overcrowded room, which smelled of expensive whisky; smoke running all over the ceiling.

  “Come on don’t be a sore loser Fyodor,” Leander said as he gathered his earnings. “I would share, but you already have enough to feed a medium sized country. I better save it for the ladies”

  In an adjoining room, different guards were stationed with different allegiances and they all came in to cater to their respective charges.

  Chapter 2

  It was a beautiful morning and spirits were high at the youth center. The trees made a pleasant rustling sound as the wind played among the leaves. The day seeme
d promising, and Mary was determined to make the most of it. It was her first day on the job and she felt a little apprehensive. She loved children, loved being with them, hoped to have hers someday with the right person but the center dealt mainly with delinquents and she was not so sure how things were going to pan out.

  She went into the superintendent’s office when she was signaled to enter. The superintendent, a large, African-American woman with an even larger heart was seated behind a simple table stacked with files of different colors. She had wide-rimmed glasses that dangled on her nose, giving her a rather comical look. Mary Joanna thought that she resembled those wise, friendly owls you usually see in Saturday morning cartoons dishing out wisdom. She took the seat she was offered-a folding chair with a cushion attached at the back and the seat.

  “Good morning Miss Landry” Mary uttered nervously

  “Oh come now let’s have none of that around here. You can call me Marjorie.” The superintendent said. Her calm demeanor belied her energy, and she jumped out of her chair to get to Mary on the other side, “Honey you are gonna need more humph than that if you want to live among these kids”

  Mary warmed up to her immediately.

  “I want to let you know that I am so thrilled to have to have you here among us Mary, your mum and I used to kick it all over town back in the day.” Marjorie continued as she sat on the other folding chair opposite Mary’s. “When I saw you was in trouble, and needed a job I couldn’t leave you out hanging. I must confess though, there ain’t much to gain here by way of finance. This work is its own reward.”

  Both women chuckled at this.

  “But seriously though, the work we do here is a Godsend for many of these kids who don’t have a home of their own, who need that structure which is sorely lacking.”