by Milly Taiden
Devin shook his head and got to his hands and knees. He looked at her with drawn brows. Using shifter speed, she jumped off the bed, raced to him, and grabbed him around the waist. With little effort, she threw him to smash into a chest of drawers.
“Marika, what the fuck are you doing?”
Saying nothing, she stepped into a cartwheel-back-handspring-backflip combo, landing on a dresser. She’d show him who couldn’t protect themselves. She was going to beat the shit out of him.
She flipped off the furniture, landing in a crouch. Devin’s eyes grew wider. Noticing his muscles tightening in his thighs and upper arms, she knew he was going to leap at her. Sure enough, he sprang.
Timing his flight, she waited. When he reached her, she rocked back, using his momentum to lift him enough to sail over her and crash to the ground. The floor shook. His anger filled the air. Now he was pissed. Just where she wanted him.
Marika dived on top of him, hands reaching for his neck. His arms caught her and they rolled against the bedside table. Her arm snapped up and took hold of the lamp. She brought it down toward his head. He threw his forearm up to block, destroying the vase-style light. And that was fine. It was ugly, anyway.
Suddenly, she flew backward, landing on her ass. In a flash, she was on her feet, as was her ticked-off mate. They circled each other. When she got close to the door, she slipped out, put her back to the wall, and tackled her mate when he came through.
They landed on the wimpy coffee table and flattened it. Both were up quickly. Marika went on the offensive. She knew her mate wouldn’t attack. But she really needed him to. She’d push him. Her self-defense classes with Charli, and karate as a kid, would finally come in handy. The idea of staying in shape was the original plan. She was a big girl, but able to control and use her weight to her benefit.
With kicks and punches, she drove Devin against the kitchen bar, yet she didn’t stop her assault. She needed something more to push him over the edge. “Come on, Devin. Are you telling me my mate is truly a pussy?” She grinned at her own play on words.
“Marika? What the hell are you doing? I don’t understand. We’re mates,” he pleaded. Both panted for breath.
“Well, let me tell you, mate. I refuse to be with anyone who can’t beat me in a fight.” Yes! She had him now. If he didn’t fight to win, he thought she’d dump him. But he probably thought he couldn’t hurt his mate. This would tell her who he really was.
Determination set in his expression. His body went from defensive to offensive. He came at her, arms and fists flying. She countered each and landed her own. Her foot stepped on something, making her lose her balance. Devin delivered a solid punch to her jaw, sending her against the front door. Terror poured from him.
His face turned to shock and worry, and he reached down to help her. “Marika, I’m so—”
She swept his legs, sending him to the floor, flat on his back. “Sorry is for pussies, darling. You’re not convincing me you’re worthy. I should leave your pathetic ass here on the floor. You should’ve stayed in LA”—she didn’t know if she should push this far, but she had a point to make to the gorgeous idiot—“and let your dark place consume you.”
His head whipped toward her. Anger shot from his eyes and his hands fisted. Oh shit. Now she did it. She’d never battled so hard in her life, taking and giving. Her shifter speed was at max, blocking the whirling arms and legs trying to take her down. This is what she needed, what she wanted to prove.
She backflipped twice, moving out of his arm’s reach. Both heaved for air. Blood and adrenaline coursed through her veins, bringing power and accelerated sensory perceptions from her fox. Her mate had to feel the same. Those good endorphins pumping up everything. She glanced at his cock. It was limp, as she expected. But twitched with her attention. She licked her lips and met his angry glare.
Now was the time. He could smell her want, smell her wetness. “What you fail to realize, baby, is that not every woman is weak or unable to defend herself. If you were human, I would’ve killed you a long time ago. Being a shifter is the only thing that’s kept you alive, and barely at that.” She watched his glare turn hot and desirous.
“You’re correct, love. Now it is my turn to make a point.” His cock rose to attention quickly. “And you’re going to swallow it.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Klamin strode along the hall of his underground bunker toward the laboratory. He had to keep his plan in motion, keep everything moving forward. The most important aspects were encompassed in one large room, in the hands of his one scientist.
Sloan worried him. He shouldn’t have granted the man access to cable TV. When not in the lab, the scientist was glued to the images and stories on the TV. A while back, Perry told him about Sloan’s fascination with the supernatural—vampires and zombies especially. That made sense since the guy created creatures that belonged in that group. But lately, he wasn’t so sure.
The man was old for a human, and occasionally, a nugget short of a Happy Meal. But the guy had made incredible strides in advancing the creatures. He made more progress within forty years than others had the entire centuries before. Of course, with borrowed technology from the much more advanced aliens. Klamin would show the government what happened when they told him no. His hand fisted and punched the wall as he continued on his way to the lab. Bastards!
Perhaps it was time to bring in a trainee. Someone highly intelligent, who loved research, and was young. He’d hit the jackpot if he could find someone who already knew a lot about shifters. The research facility the mayor mentioned popped into his mind. If this Paters person was a tech and not solely administrative, then finding a replacement scientist wouldn’t be as hard as he thought.
Reaching the lab, Klamin stormed in. He searched the crowded room for the black mop of hair his scientist sported. The eerie beeps of the medical machines monitoring the silent, prone shapes lying under white sheets creeped him out. He didn’t know how anyone working in this room remained sane. Which explained Sloan’s mental state, for the most part.
Klamin stepped farther into the space, stopping by the first row of breathing experiments. “Sloan, where the fuck are you?”
The being lying on the table next to his side twitched and bolted up, the sheet flying forward off the body. Klamin yelped and jumped back, knocking another bed holding a covered body into machines, setting off screeching alarms.
The body sitting up launched at Klamin, instigating his reflexes to defend himself. His arm snapped out, catching his would-be attacker around the throat. Sloan’s feet flew into the air as his neck remained firmly seized in Klamin’s hand.
Klamin realized who he held, and immediately relaxed his grip, letting the scientist succumb to gravity and land flat on his back. “Sloan, what the fuck are you doing? You scared the shit out of me.”
The scientist rolled onto his side, heaving in breaths. “Sorry, Master. I was up all night with the ivy and trying to sleep a bit before the next group sprouted.” Sloan leaned against a bed to help him stand. Forgetting the beds were on wheels, he stumbled with the unit as it rolled into another, ripping the IV from its buried position under flesh.
A red splotch bloomed on the pristine white material, then as Klamin watched, slowly disappeared as if wicked back into the body it came from. That was interesting. “Sloan, what is this creature who retrieves its own blood?”
The scientist climbed to his feet and lifted the cover over the patient’s head. “Ah, this is the antivampire prototype.”
Klamin lifted a brow. Perry was right about the scientist’s obsession with vamps and zombies. Klamin said, “I wasn’t aware there were vampires to be the anti of.”
Sloan ran around switching off alarms and quieting the room. “We must be ready, Master. Haven’t you read stories the humans write about vampires ripping open throats and sucking out the blood?”
“I don’t have time to read for pleasure,” he said. “Just because shifters exist and humans
write about them doesn’t mean the rest of the garbage is real. Shifters are real because they were genetically engineered like all the other . . . things in this room. Have we created a creature specifically to live on blood?”
“Well, not completely.”
“Then let’s stick to the normal weird shit, shall we?”
Sloan was quiet for a second. “So, I shouldn’t worry about the zombie apocalypse?” Klamin wanted to beat his head against a wall. The Paters scientist at the Fish and Wildlife lab was looking more and more valuable. “Sloan, please tell me our plants are coming along well. If not—”
“They are, Master. Come see.” The little man shuffled around tables, boxes, and equipment to get to a desk almost hidden in a corner. He wiggled a mouse to bring the computer screen alive. Splotched in crimson like mud thrown onto the monitor, the word “redrum” flashed on and off. Sloan groaned and repeatedly pounded the ESC key.
Klamin stood back and crossed his arms. “What does that mean and why is it there?”
Sloan turned the computer off. “I don’t know what it means. It just showed up one day and my computer freezes every time. I have to restart it.”
“The word looks familiar,” Klamin said. He didn’t want to wait for the machine to reboot. “Show me the plants. I’ll look at the data later.”
Sloan led him through a door into a moist, tropical atmosphere. The room was covered in lush green vines and plants with large leaves. Overhead pipes sprayed water in fine mists. In a cryogenic container to the side lay part-human, part-plant bodies—remains of the latest failed attempts.
Sloan lifted an ivy generating from one stem in a bowl of water. “After those initial few shifters survived, I haven’t been able to repeat the success yet.”
Klamin’s hand gently brushed a leaf. “Those first ones are working well. I can communicate with them most of the time. Their brains sometimes feel too weak for me to get what they’ve recorded in their minds.”
Sloan thought about that. “Maybe it has to do with how much water is in the soil. Or it could be that plants go through cycles we don’t understand yet. The sun may affect something. Have you noticed a pattern?”
“I gave the plants to the fellowship this morning before they showed up for work, so I haven’t had long enough to find a pattern. Plus, nobody has been at their desk much today yet. But the senator has had his plant a couple days.” That was how he discovered Hayseed’s traitorous actions with the pipeline.
Sloan looked at him sheepishly. “Master, what if they are captured by the humans?”
“As long as they are under my mind control and don’t shift, then they will never be discovered.” His scientist did have a good point, though. He lost Perry to the veterinarian. “Just to be safe, implant self-imploding program directions in case they are caught. And be sure to do that with the next batch of shifters.” After capture, their neurosensors would release the serum and virtually melt their brain matter. Made for much easier disposal; his lost bear had been a pain in the ass to try to kill. The only saving grace was that his memory hadn’t returned yet.
Klamin stroked the leaf, smiling. Oh yes, his plan for this sweet spying foliage was progressing perfectly. His mind moved on to his ultimate dream. He was close after so many years and so many failed attempts. “What about our ‘special’ project, Sloan? Our time is running out. You must find a way to increase the speed of cell regeneration. If you don’t, you’ll find your way to the place where the first experiments are . . . six feet under, in the middle of nowhere.”
“I need help, Master. Someone who understands shifter blood components and the genetics of the mixed species.”
Klamin smiled. “Really, an assistant would help?”
“Yes, Master. Very much.”
“Well, then. I know who can help you. You’ll love her. We’ll meet her later today.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Devin was glad she gave him a pair of her dad’s sweats she kept at her place. It would look weird to get back to work with ripped-up clothing. Russel would never let him live it down. Once dressed, he helped Marika find her clothes. It was nearly impossible with her other clothes and shoes and girly stuff all over the place. Then added to that was the smashed lamp and flattened coffee table.
He didn’t want to let his mate leave, but both of them had important things to do. They served the public in one way or another. Plus, he wasn’t nearly as concerned about her safety at the lab knowing she could fight her gorgeous tush off.
After driving back to her vehicle, he kissed her until she was breathless, then sent her on the way to her lab. He pulled out his phone and dialed up Russel. “Hey, man. What you up to?”
“I’m starving. Have you eaten yet?”
“Just finished.” Yes, he just finished eating his mate a couple of times. Delicious. Shit. His cock twitched. Not the time for that, buddy. “How about I meet you at the café on the corner of Magnolia and Tempest. I’ll get a coffee while you eat.”
“Yeah, that’ll work well. See you then.”
Devin hung up and slid his phone into his pocket. He had to get his head back in the game. He wanted to run what he found at the senator’s by Russel. Even though Russ was a bit weird at times, he was still a great detective. He might come off as goofy, but Devin thought that was a cover for something deeper. What that could be, he didn’t know. But he and his cat trusted Russ with their lives.
After the lunch rush hour, the café wasn’t overly busy, allowing him to park close to the front door. He picked a table toward the back where they would have more privacy. A waitress wandered over and asked if he wanted anything. He ordered a coffee, extra cream for the cat.
Russel came through the door, lifted his nose, and turned toward him. Devin kicked out the chair next to him for his coworker. Russel sat and snuffled deeply. “So, Dev. Been busy recently? And I don’t mean sniffing out the bad guy. More like the bad girl.”
Devin’s panther jumped forward, ready to defend his mate. He heard the humor in his friend’s voice and calmed his animal. “Actually, she’s a very good girl. And my mate.”
Russel stared at him, looking skeptical. “You just met your mate? Here? In Shedford? Where? Who is it?”
“She’s a researcher at a lab south of town. She’s a gorgeous fox.”
“Of course she is.” Russel snorted. “She’s your mate. Mine is foxy too, but we won’t go there.”
“No. I mean she’s a fox shifter.”
Russel scrunched his face. “A fox and a panther? That’s a weird combo.”
Devin’s panther busted out a claw for the multishifter, seeing as Russel hated everything about cats. Devin was sure there was a hilarious story behind it. He lifted his arm, popping up his claws one at a time. Russel squeaked and nearly fell out of his chair.
“Dammit, man. You know I hate that shit.”
“Sorry,” Devin started, “the cat got pissed you called him weird.”
“Control your pussy, dude.” Russel’s entire body shook. “I hate wild pussy. That shit is rank.”
Devin laughed as his cat bristled again. “Order your food before more than a claw comes out.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Russel flagged down the waitress and ordered enough food to feed the department.
“How can you eat so much? You’re skinny as hell, where does it go?” Devin asked.
“That’s the thing with multishifters. We’re different than normal shifters. Our metabolism is even faster than yours. When we shift into different animals, it burns more calories as the cells regenerate.
“I don’t know the science behind it all. There isn’t much information out there. Just stories passed down through the generations that clue us in to what we can do. There aren’t many of us. I’m the first in my family in a long time. I think my great-great-grandma was the one before me. I got some fox jokes. Wanna hear some?”
Before Devin could say no, Russel started in. “Why did the fox cross the road?”
D
evin rolled his eyes and played along. “I don’t know why. Tell me.”
“To prove to the possum that it could be done!” Russel laughed. “When does a fox go ‘moo’?” Devin just shook his head. “When it is learning a new language!”
Yeah, he’d had enough and was about to say—
“Wait. How about these: Girl, if you were a dinosaur, you’d be a Foxasaurus. If I was a fox, I’d jump in your hole!”
These were worse than his rat jokes. And his cat didn’t take kindly to the “hole” pun. Thank god the server came out with a large tray holding several plates.
She set the load on a nearby table and brought two plates over. “Who ordered the lasagna?” Russel lifted a hand. She sat the plate in front of him. The Salisbury steak plate in her other hand came Devin’s way.
“Oh, he ordered that too.” The waitress looked at him with a blank stare, like she didn’t understand what he had said. She quickly snapped out of it and set the plate next to Russel.
She grabbed a plate of mashed potatoes and a plate of green beans, then looked at Devin. He nodded to Russel. Without missing a beat this time, she put the plates around his fellow agent. Next came white and brown gravy, a basket of rolls, and an additional drink.
Devin stared at it all. “Man, your mate is going to freak out the first time you go on a date and eat. If I’d ordered anything, we’d have to get a bigger table.”
“Hey, don’t hate me because I’m beautiful and get to eat this much,” Russel said.
Good thing Devin didn’t have coffee in his mouth or it would’ve been all over the table. One thing he could expect from Russ was the unexpected. Fortunately, while cramming food into his mouth, he was quiet. The only time he was quiet.
Devin scooted closer. “I need your help with some spying.”
Russel sat up higher in his chair. “Absolutely. What are we doing? I have my camo face paint in the truck along with my heavy-duty disguise suitcase.”