20 Shades of Shifters: A Paranormal Romance Collection

by Demelza Carlton

  He hesitated again. There was more than one kind of danger possible. Only yesterday he wondered if she was losing her mind, hallucinating about wolves and even imagining herself to be one. That she’d broken down and might be a danger to herself, like Sharon. He’d been wrong. But she could still be hurt from it all, and hurting her further would kill him. Then her hands pulled at him again and he was undone.

  Her heart was going to pound its way out of her chest. She’d never felt such intense need. The months of stress and the recent bout of danger, combined with David’s scent, his kisses, and the touch of his skin did things to her that no single romantic night had ever achieved—she was ravenous with desire. David’s hands and kisses flowed over her body, bringing wave after wave of glorious sensation.

  She could hear her own guttural moans and growls, and a part of her was amazed at her level of total involvement. His soft groans were thrilling, pushing her level of desperation as he moved so slowly to explore her most sensitive areas. The fact that he wanted to take his time with her was exciting, and maddening.

  “Please,” she whimpered. His palm massaged her mound.

  “Mmmm,” he murmured, his lips pressed against her navel.

  The seconds as he dragged his mouth downward lasted forever. Within moments she was lost in a spiral of bliss. Her mouth shaped the words, and she breathed out his name.

  Finally his weight settled upon her as he levered himself up to stretch along the length of her body. The rough texture of his jeans was breathtaking after the velvet heat of his tongue. She clutched him to her, wrapping herself around his body. She reached again for his jeans and he shifted to allow her hands entry, even as he teased her breasts with his hands and ravished her neck and shoulders with his mouth.

  “Just a minute, baby,” he whispered.

  It was agony to feel him move away from her, see him lift his body from the bed. When he bent to pull off his boots she allowed herself a grin of pure, wolfish satisfaction. He was in her bed, and she was keeping him there. He stripped off his jeans, and her grin widened when as she watched his briefs follow suit. He was wonderful, all over.

  “I’ve got protection,” he told her, his voice serious, but his hazel eyes twinkling in laughter.

  “Well, thank God for that, and get back here,” she mock-growled at him.

  He knelt on the mattress, his stiff member proving to her that he needed her as much as she needed him. She reached out to stroke him, rose to touch her lips to him, but he pulled at her shoulders. “I don’t think I can take that, and live to follow through,” he rasped. His eyes were clouded with lust.

  He lifted her to her knees, and pressed their bodies together even as his lips met hers. She tasted her own salty sweetness and his distinct masculine flavor as she opened her mouth to his. Skin against skin, they kissed.

  They fit together. He drew his fingers again to her mound and stirred her female core to greater heights. Her heart thundered and she growled for real. He pushed between her legs with his hips, and parted her. His penetration was more than she’d bargained for, and as she gasped with pleasure, he groaned her name out loud. Her climax was immediate; his took a blessedly long time.

  For the next hour, time stood still as they brought each other over the edge again. Sometime after that, Helen found herself drifting off to sleep, nestled in his arms.

  Chapter 9

  She breathed deeply in her sleep, looking like any other beautiful woman might after sex—a glow to her skin and her hair a complete mess, though he’d never tell her that. But she wasn’t like any other woman. Not at all, and it blew him away.

  Did he feel any different about a woman who could shift into a huge, dangerous, and gorgeous wolf? Was he a little twisted somehow? He considered that. Nope. The wolf was scary for sure but it was the woman he wanted.

  He rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling. They’d been in bed since early morning and now it was close to noon. Leaving her alone seemed like the wrong thing to do, but he had to wrap his head around everything. He slid out of bed carefully, leaving her wrapped in the warm flannel sheets and heavy comforter so she wouldn’t miss his heat. He snagged his pants from where they’d hit the floor and his long-sleeved T-shirt. Hard to say where his socks had ended up and he didn’t want to wake her by looking for them. He walked into the hallway before pulling on the jeans and shirt.

  He put on a small kettle to boil and spooned a bit of instant coffee into his father’s favorite mug. A little chipped, it seemed to be a perfect fit for his hand, when it had always seemed too big before. He ran a thumb over the chip.

  What he been thinking, planning on knocking this place down for some sort of spa hideaway for rich brats with too much time and too much stress? This place had been his father’s retreat. His haven. Odd that Helen had thought it would be one for her too. Having second thoughts after sex wasn’t cool. He glanced at the bedroom door. Not that he regretted being with her, not for a second. She was amazing, fantastic, and while she wasn’t his usual type, she drew him in and made him want bad enough that his cock stood up a little, offering to try its best at round four.

  Maybe though, she should have thought about what the sex meant to her before he forgot about thinking at all. She had problems he couldn’t have imagined before last night. How could he possibly help her with them? She’d been cursed and now was being hunted. Was it even the same people who’d made her into a werewolf? If it was them, why were they after her now, months later? Why curse her and then attack her?

  The kettle boiled and he poured it over the instant granules. Helen hadn’t stirred. There was no question he was going to help her. She needed him and he needed to feel needed. He’d been to a therapist. He was all too aware that the world’s problems—and not even every gorgeous woman’s problems—were not on his shoulders. She wasn’t even exactly human, although that was pretty hard to believe when he’d just had the most fantastic sex with her.

  He took a long sip of coffee, not exactly savoring the instant formula, but tasting the familiarity of it. How many times had he shared a silent cup of coffee with his father? John Sherman would have been amazed at Helen’s transformation, but it wouldn’t have frightened him. He’d believed everything under the sky was created by a power far greater than him, and that, “There are more things on heaven and earth, Horatio…” a quote he’d regularly use and mangle as he chose to indicate his belief in the legends of the local Native Americans. Somewhere, he’d claimed, they had Native blood in their tree, though David had never found it in any record.

  What would his father do in a mess like this? Help her. Hold her. Probably keep her. David smiled. Exactly what he was going to do. What they’d shared had been physically intimate, but Helen was smart, strong, powerful in her own way, and exactly what he wanted for far more than a short sexual fling.

  They just had to solve a few problems first.

  He needed a plan. And within his overall plan for Helen, he needed a plan to get rid of the people who were after her, and get rid of a curse. No big deal.

  He settled with his coffee and his phone on the couch and began a search. Werewolves in the United States. Rom and magic and curses.

  A long search later and he had an idea about where the Rom wandered on their migration. It was actually a two year long meandering path that touched base in a number of free camping spots as it wound from the east coast to the south and down to Mexico, and then back through the middle of the United States and east again. He’d found a blog by a young woman who was a fringe member of the Rom.

  “Find anything interesting?” Helen spoke from beside him and he jumped. The woman was silent as she moved. And, a bit disappointingly, she was dressed, and looked fresh, her hair brushed and no longer mussed from their roll in bed. He doubted he could say the same for himself.

  “I found a blog by a Romany girl that I think will help us follow them.”

  She walked to the kitchen counter where her camp stove sat and flipp
ed it on. Watching could become an easy obsession. Had she always been this graceful when she moved or was this part of the shift as well?

  “The Romily? I saw that one too, but I didn’t have much time to look through it. Seemed like a lot about which boy the writer liked best.”

  He pointed to a cupboard. “Tea is up there in a cookie can. The blog is definitely written by a teenage girl, and there’s a lot to sort through. But she does mention the names of places and it isn’t hard to work out dates, so I think we can put together an idea of their route. If we follow that, we’ll eventually catch up. Then we can find the woman who cursed you and get her to take it off.”

  She said nothing, stood watching the stove and waiting for the water to boil.

  “You do want them to take it off, right? You said you did.”

  She looked up at him. “I do. But you said ‘we’ and I am not sure you should come.”

  He set the phone down on the counter. “You can’t do this alone.”

  “But why should you come with me? Why get involved? You saw what happened last night. Those guys—those wolves—attacked us. Next time it could be a lot worse. I don’t even know who they were, or why they want to hurt me, but they do. Not to mention they have fangs and claws, and have some sort of magic. Why drag yourself into all this?”

  He stepped closer. “Because you need me.”

  She sucked in a breath. “And who appointed you my keeper? You followed me up here. I didn’t ask you to, and just because we had sex doesn’t mean I am going to follow you around like a helpless puppy. For all I know, getting a stranger involved is exactly what brought on the attack. You can’t even defend yourself against them. They could come at us as wolves or humans.” Anger flared in those fantastic, golden eyes. Very nice. But she clearly had some issues surrounding her independence. If trying to imply he was weak was her go-to defense, she must have had an interesting childhood.

  “I can hold my own, and I want to help. It isn’t because of the sex. I’ve had you, and I want you again, but I’d still want to help if we didn’t just have fantastic sex.”

  She pressed her lips together hard and her nostrils flared slightly. Yep, she was pissed. But maybe, considering the rosy color of her cheeks, a little interested in the fact he already wanted her again. Reading her was like reading a book. He’d always been good at understanding people through their body language, but she laid it all out for him as clearly as if she stated her emotions as they changed. It was a hard battle to keep the smile from his face; she’d never get his happiness over that. No woman wanted to be understood.

  “If this is about the developments, I don’t know if I’m going to still have a job when I go back to Multoma. Helping me doesn’t mean I can help you with them.”

  He rubbed a hand over his jaw. Maybe he didn’t understand her after all. “This isn’t about work. That can all wait. I’m not even sure about the resort here anyway. And the land will still be there when we sort this out.”

  “They could hurt you. Hell, they could kill you! I don’t even know what they want!”

  He reached for her, pulled her in for a hug. She resisted at first, her body still and unyielding, but he held on and she eventually softened. “This is such a bad idea.”

  He smiled into her hair. It really was a bad idea. But she felt so right. And no way was he leaving her, wolf powers or not, on her own.

  The man was an idiot. Well, not an idiot. He was intelligent enough to make her sit up and take notice in a good way. Intelligence was the sexiest thing in the world. But he had to be crazy to get involved in her mess. They sat at the small table, a large map spread across the surface. David has his phone out and they were reviewing the blog, finding any reference to the Rom’s route and marking them in red on the map. He’d been right about that; amid the fluff of teen angst, boys, clothes, and more boys, there were notes about where bands of the people—that’s what the Rom called themselves indirectly, the people—stopped for short periods of time and camped, making money by trading with locals, dropping off handmade items to art galleries and gift stores, and even providing special ingredients and formulated oils to naturopaths.

  The insight into the life of the Rom was fascinating. Apparently talking to outsiders about the bands was against the rules, but no one seemed to have noticed this blog and teenagers were teenagers wherever they came from, all willing to bend the rules as they interpreted them.

  “Okay, here’s where they stopped last.” David marked a spot named Woodberry Forest, near Charlottesville in Virginia. “They kind of take a circular route here. Then they’ll head further south. Our author likes it when they go to the warmer states and the beaches on the coast.” He grinned at her and warmth spread through her chest.

  The low, grumbling growl caught them both by surprise. She bolted upright and then laughed. “Guess I’m a little hungry.”

  He chuckled. “For a minute there I thought the wolves were coming.”

  She lost her smile. “They are. What time is it?” They’d already had a late lunch from more of her stash and his dehydrated food.

  “Wow, it’s nearly six.”

  She stood and paced away from him. She sucked in a deep breath. “No wonder they didn’t attack us today. Tonight’s the full moon. They need to run. I need to run.”

  He nodded, his face serious. Their companionable afternoon was gone. “I’m going to make some dinner. When do you…”

  “I’ll have to go when it’s fully dark. I can’t be in here when I change, David.”

  He walked into the kitchen, his movements a little slower than they’d been at lunch, and she scented a light, acrid smell of fear. She dropped her chin to her chest, looked at the floor. Despite what he’d offered, what he’d claimed, that he was there because he wanted to be, and because she needed him, he was afraid of her.

  But he turned on the stove and walked back to her, and put his hands on her shoulders. “Do you think they’ll be in the woods, waiting for you? I don’t think you should go alone. I want to be there when you shift. What if they attacked then, when you were in the middle of it? How long does it take?”

  He wasn’t afraid of her. He was afraid for her. Sensation washed through her chest, like she was being squeezed. He throat tightened. She barely knew him…okay; she did know him a little now. He was smart, strong, caring and great in bed. Hell. He was brave.

  Don’t believe for a minute you can rely on anyone but yourself, Helen. That’s nothing but a lie that a man will tell you before they disappoint you or turn on you.

  Her father’s advice was never wrong. At least it had never been wrong yet, cold and cruel as it often was. Why would this be any different? How often had he told her she was better off alone, in not so many words? And sometimes, she’d wondered if everyone else was better off without her.

  “Don’t go there, Helen, wherever it is that you’re going. I can see the wheels turning. I am not leaving and I want to be there for you tonight.”

  “I don’t want you to see.” Her change had to look repulsive. She hadn’t seen it herself, but what else could it be but horrifying? Her bones broke, lengthened and shortened, her muscles and ligaments writhed inside skin that sprouted waves of fur. She became an animal. Why would any man, especially a lover, want to see that? He’d never sleep with her again, knowing what the curse brought out of her.

  “I need to know.”

  She sighed and looked into his eyes. He did need to know if she couldn’t convince him to leave her and her disaster of a life alone. Maybe having him see her change would be enough to send him screaming into the night, down the mountain and back home, and far away from her.

  He’d be safer that way.

  And she’d rely on herself, as always.

  “Okay. But I have to change outside. I can’t stand it when I’m inside.”

  “Will you know me after you shift?” They’d had their supper, a quiet affair to be sure, and now they stood in the tall grass. Her, naked and wrap
ped in the car blanket once again, and him, standing stiffly beside her SUV with his shotgun braced in the crook of his arm. Darkness spread through the woods, though she could see him clearly in the moonlight. Now that she’d been with him she could appreciate his physique even more—those fantastic shoulders and the deeply muscled chest especially.

  The ability to hold back the change slipped through her control and she didn’t answer, couldn’t. She turned away from him. The last thing she wanted to see what the revulsion that would fill his expression when he watched her give in to the curse. Become a beast, whether he called her that or not.

  She let go and pushed instead, calling the change to her in a way she never had before. Not letting it happen like last night, but drawing it in with each breath, willing it to go faster, to make this experience less gruesome for David and less mortifying for her. She hunched down under the blanket and hid what she could, especially as the bones in her face contorted. Power slammed into her and she gasped for breath, shaking as she absorbed the force of what made her a wolf. Pushing might not have been the best idea. No time to absorb the energy, to release the pain. Fur rushed over her body and she lifted her head and screamed, the sound morphing as she was, changing into a long, wailing howl.

  The last of her fur and the length of her tail emerged and the blanket slid from her back. She howled again, this time the undulating cry that filled her with a triumph she couldn’t explain if she had been in human form. She was wolf.

  David sucked in a long breath behind her and she looked at the human male. Still attractive. Still strong, a good mate. He gazed back at her with awe, as he should; she was strong, powerful, and worthy.