20 Shades of Shifters: A Paranormal Romance Collection

by Demelza Carlton

  He’d thought he had another chance with his great-grandson. He’d considered Rachel a nothing. He would have allowed her to stay with her son, so long as she hadn’t interfered with his plans for Jacob. If she had, it would have been easy enough to arrange an accident, or an overdose, or maybe just have her locked away somewhere. Some home for the mentally incompetent. He’d always thought she was a strange one. The boy had clearly needed a strong hand and some serious re-educating after the weird-assed upbringing he’d had so far. But he was still young enough to have the right attitude instilled. Power was what mattered. The only thing.

  Now for the first time, the senator thought about praying. Unfortunately, he was bright enough to realize that any prayers at this point would likely be ignored. If there was a God, Danvers suspected he was more the vengeful creature of the Old Testament—take an eye for an eye—than the forgiving later version. He doubted turning the other cheek was an option.

  Christ, he wished there was some way to avoid this meeting, but he knew in his heart that it had to be faced and gotten through. Or not.

  His finger shook as he pressed the intercom. “Send her in.”

  The door opened a few seconds later and Cassia strolled in. He remembered Stanton’s words last night. “She does not have your best interests at heart.” The man obviously knew of Cassia.

  She was one of the most beautiful women he had ever known. Her red-gold hair was usually up in a ponytail, but today it hung around her shoulders. She had green eyes, slightly tilted, full lips, and pale, flawless skin. Except today, when he looked closely, the skin across her cheeks seemed to ripple and pulsate, as though something alive was trying to get out, and a shudder ran through him. She was tall and voluptuously curved. When he’d first met her, he’d fantasized about getting her naked. His stomach churned at the thought.

  She came to a halt in front of his desk. “Send your assistant home for the day,” she said.

  He didn’t want to, but at the same time, he couldn’t stop his finger going to the intercom. “Sarah, you can leave for the day.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Cassia rested her hands on the top of his desk and leaned closer. He had to fight the urge to push his chair back. “You failed me,” she said.

  “I didn’t have a choice. I had to back off. They got the boy back, and I had no leverage. You didn’t tell me I’d be going against a goddamn private army. Stormlord Securities is vast; its people have contacts everywhere.” He thought about the paper Finn Stanton had handed him. The depth of their knowledge was scary. Unfortunately, not as scary as the woman in front of him.

  Her eyes narrowed. “I went to a lot of trouble to get your cooperation,” she said.

  That didn’t make sense. “You came to me with a proposition. Just a meeting. I get my grandson and his mother to the city, and you would fund my next campaign.”

  “You really think it was that easy?” She studied him for a moment, a slight smile on her face, and something cold clamped around his heart. “Tell me,” she said. “Why didn’t you bother with your granddaughter before this?”

  He shrugged. Unsure where this was going. “I didn’t need her. I had my son. Michael was going to be the next president.”

  “And what changed?” she asked.

  He swallowed. “Michael died.” As he spoke the words, something occurred to him briefly. The cold grip around his heart tightened, and pain shot down his arm so his hand spasmed. He rubbed at his heart, not wanting to follow the thought through to its obvious conclusion.

  “You really think that was a coincidence?”

  No!

  The word roared inside his head. “You killed my son?”

  She shrugged. “You killed his wife. Don’t sound so sanctimonious.”

  Of course he’d killed Naomi; she was standing in his way. He’d run her off, but she was still there in the background. The big love of his son’s life. The only mistake Michael had ever made. While Naomi lived, Michael had refused to consider marrying again, and he was supposed to be founding a goddamn dynasty. So he’d taken Naomi out of the equation, and Michael had fallen into line as his father had known he would. Though he’d never managed to sire another child.

  “We all have to do whatever works,” Cassia murmured.

  “You killed my son.”

  “I did. And it was so easy.”

  He wanted to lunge across the table, to punch her face, punch her everywhere, until she disintegrated into a pool of bones and blood. All his plans, all his hopes for his name to go on forever. Taken from him. The pain was getting stronger now, and he pressed his fist over his heart. His breath was ragged, and each intake of air burned his lungs. She was watching him, as though he were some interesting specimen.

  He asked the question he’d never asked before—other people’s motives had never interested him. “Why? Why are you doing this?”

  “For love,” she said.

  “Love?” The word was an alien concept.

  “Finn Stanton. I’ve always loved him, and I was promised him. He’s mine. Or will be soon. We’re the same—you mere mortals can never understand us, but we can understand each other, and he’ll realize that in time.” She blew out her breath. “Enough. Time to say good-bye. I won’t say it was a pleasure working with you. I dislike failure, and you are not a good man, Senator Danvers. Accept this as payment for a lifetime of evil deeds. Perhaps I can tell Rachel I avenged her mother. Before she dies.”

  He lunged after her, but collapsed to his knees, fire shooting along his nerves, burning through his veins as his heart exploded in his chest. He was dead before his body hit the ground.

  “Too quick,” Cassia muttered, and turned and walked away.

  Chapter 19

  Finn pulled the door shut behind him and forced himself to walk away. Outside the control room, he stopped. He wasn’t ready to see anyone yet. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply, calming his mind, forcing down the rage that threatened to wake the darkness inside him. Bastards.

  Hearing her relive that first death had nearly broken him. He’d brought her to that. His fault.

  For the first time in nearly a thousand years, he wanted to kill someone. Just to hear them scream and die. An echo of those early years when he’d slaughtered indiscriminately, holding all humans guilty for the sins of their kind.

  They’d been her people. She’d lived among them, and they had turned on her like rabid dogs. Scared of God’s retribution if they didn’t punish their own.

  “Are you okay?”

  He opened his eyes. The door to the control room was open, and Torr and Cade stood in front of him, Bella slightly behind them. Clearly, they’d gotten fed up of waiting and come to find him.

  He blew out his breath. “Yeah.” As okay as he was ever going to be.

  Torr glanced down over his clothes, no doubt taking in the remains of the tuxedo from last night and reaching the correct conclusions.

  They’d made love, and it had been right and beautiful, and had made things so much worse.

  If he could have just stuck to his original plan and kept his distance, never talked to her, kissed her, made love to her. Then perhaps he wouldn’t be feeling this raging loss inside. Except the plan had always been flawed, because he couldn’t keep away. Year after year, he’d been drawn back to her. He’d told himself it was safe if he only went near her in his wolf form. What harm could he do? She’d live out her life, seemingly happy. He’d continue to exist until the thousand years of the Covenant were completed, then Torr would very kindly chop off his fucking thick head.

  Of course, it hadn’t worked like that. He’d been a fucking idiot. He should never have gone within a hundred miles of her.

  Brandon and his wolves would have kept her safe that day. They would have saved her from the senator’s men.

  But no, he’d had to act the fucking goddamn hero and fuck everything up.

  Something else occurred to him. He’d wondered how Lilith had found her. Well,
with hindsight, he was guessing he’d led her straight to Rachel. Likely, she’d been watching them; she had spies everywhere. Probably, she’d started to wonder why he visited that place so often. And it wouldn’t have taken her long to work it out.

  Jesus, he was a goddamn idiot. He clenched his fist and smashed it into the wall.

  “Somehow, you don’t look like a man in the throes of post-coital bliss,” Cade said.

  “Fuck off,” he snarled.

  “I’ll fuck off if you get your head out of your arse and do something positive.”

  “I should never have gone near her.”

  “Jesus. But you did, and now you have to deal with it. Find a way to get through to her.”

  “You don’t get it. Why the hell would she say I love you? She never fucking said it before, so why would she say it now? And even if she does, she’ll remember everything. She’ll remember that I lied to her, betrayed her, caused not only her death but the death of the son she loved more than me.”

  Bella pushed past her husband, reached out, and rested a hand on his shoulder. Cool relief flowed through him, and the red mist faded from his mind. “She loved you,” Bella said. “She might not have told you, but she was scared. She’d been hurt once. But I was her sister. I knew her, and she did love you.”

  He stood with his head hanging. “Sorry. She had a dream. Of that day. I’d never known the details.” He shook his head. “Why? She was so…good, and her son a child. An innocent.”

  “They were jealous,” Bella said. “And scared. They were whipped up to a fury by a small number who hated us. Hated you. You were angels and so far above them.”

  “Well, we’re not angels anymore.” He ran a hand through his hair. Time to try and put this right. Whatever it took. Though he had an inkling nothing he could do would be enough. “So Gabriel has agreed to a meeting.” Only Gabriel had the power to grant Rachel her life. But he wouldn’t go against the Covenant unless he had a really good reason. Finn hoped he could give him one. It all really hinged on whether Gabriel would believe the threat. “When? Where?”

  “Now, and at a bar just down the road,” Torr replied. “Let’s go and get this done.”

  They took the elevator to the ground floor. As they exited the building, a figure approached them. Dawson, the alpha of the Washington, DC, pack. He must have been watching from the shadows of the alley running between the buildings. He was tall with a shock of black hair and deep-blue eyes. Irish-American. He moved with an almost unnatural grace common to his kind.

  Finn had originally created werewolves around the world. An army to rise up and help Lilith in her plan to overtake the Earth. Though the alphas had the power to turn others into werewolves through their bite, all came from those first werewolves created by Finn, and all owed their allegiance to him. They were long-lived; most died through some sort of violence rather than anything age-related. Dawson was over five hundred years old, and one of the most powerful wolves around. He was second generation.

  Finn had no clue what would happen to the werewolves if he died. Presumably, they would gain their freedom. That would please a few of them. The true alphas like Dawson didn’t like to be beholden to anyone. At least he would be making someone happy.

  Werewolves, despite their reputation, were not evil. Any more than Finn was evil.

  Dawson came to a halt in front of them and nodded his head. “Storm Lords.”

  “What’s happening?” Finn asked. He’d set Dawson’s people to watching the streets, keeping an eye out for any unusual activity. Others were watching the senator’s place.

  “The senator hasn’t left his home. And the streets are quiet.”

  “Good.”

  “And may I go now, oh Lord and Master?”

  Finn almost grinned. Dawson was definitely one of the ones who hated to bow his head to Finn. “No. You’re coming with us.” He needed to find out what would happen to his wolves if he should die. And Dawson should hear that as well. He suspected that there would be a squabble for overall power. A resetting of territories. They needed to start planning.

  “And where would that be?”

  “To a meeting with an angel. An archangel, actually.”

  “You’re shitting me?”

  “Nope.”

  “And we’re late,” Torr said. “So I suggest we get moving.”

  It was a beautiful spring day. All Finn’s senses were alert. He was aware of everything, the warmth of the sun against his skin, the scent of cherry blossoms drifting on the air, the ground beneath his feet. The deep-blue sky arching above. Would this day be his last? Or would Gabriel be kind and give him more time? Hopefully, what remained of the five days of the Covenant. To spend with Rachel. Though Gabriel wasn’t known for his kindness.

  The truth was, he didn’t know how this would go down. He could just hope.

  The bar was dark and empty but for a single figure sitting in a booth in the far corner.

  Gabriel glanced up as they approached, but didn’t move. He’d never been one for manners. Then he caught sight of Bella and rose to his feet, a smile on his face. “Ah, Belladonna, how lovely to see you.” He held out his hand, and as Bella took it, he raised her hand to his mouth and kissed her palm. Beside him Torr growled, and Gabriel smirked.

  Asshole.

  Gabriel had been responsible for taking Damaris from him the first time, and Finn would never forgive or forget. His time for revenge was long past, but he also realized, in that moment, that he hadn’t liked the archangel even before their differences. In fact, he was a sanctimonious, self-righteous prick. Best keep that to himself though, considering this was the one being who might be able to grant him what he needed.

  Even in his earthly form, Gabriel glowed with an inhuman beauty. Golden hair, pale luminous skin, blue eyes. God’s right-hand man. And the most powerful of his soldiers, the archangels.

  Finn stopped in front of him. “I want to make a deal,” he said.

  Gabriel raised a golden eyebrow. “A deal? As far as I’m aware you have nothing to deal with.”

  He slid into the seat opposite. The others remained standing.

  “Under the terms of the Covenant, if I fail, I return to Lilith when the thousand years are up.”

  He nodded. “Those are the rules. And while I am not happy with that, I can’t change them now.”

  “And if Lilith has my allegiance, she has control of my wolves.”

  “Who the fuck is Lilith?” Dawson asked.

  He glanced up at the werewolf. The man did not look happy. With good reason. He’d be even unhappier if he ever had the bad luck to meet Lilith in person. He’d probably be praying for Finn’s return. “A total bitch, and believe me you do not want to be under her control.”

  “I don’t want to be under anyone’s fucking control.”

  “Well, maybe you’ll get your wish.” He turned his attention back to Gabriel. “Lilith would have an army of wolves on Earth at her command.”

  “We will smite them down.”

  Yeah, and wasn’t that just their answer to everything. Smite them down. Having been on the receiving end of a smiting, he didn’t really want it for his wolves. He felt a sort of paternal responsibility for them. “You could try. But I’m guessing they can do a hell of a lot of damage before you manage to ‘smite’ them all.”

  “So what do you propose?” Gabriel asked. “There are still a few years until the end of the Covenant.” He studied Finn for a moment. “Ah. I’m guessing you have found your woman, and you believe you will fail.”

  “I’ve found her. And I have no intention of attempting to complete the Covenant. She doesn’t love me. It can only fail. I’ve always accepted that.”

  “What’s changed?”

  “I planned that we would never meet. That she would have her mortal life, and at the end, after the Covenant is over, she would die, and her soul move on. Now we’ve met.”

  “And she dies rather sooner than you would like.”

 
; Finn ignored the comment. “She has a son. He needs her. She can’t die. She doesn’t deserve to die.”

  “She took the Elixir of Life.”

  “She didn’t know.”

  Gabriel went still. “What?”

  “I didn’t tell her. I didn’t think she would take it if I told her the truth. I wasn’t certain she wanted eternity with me. At least not enough to flout the laws of Heaven.” He took a deep breath. At least Gabriel was listening. “I told her it was nothing but wine. She died not knowing the crime she was punished for. Her six-year-old son died with her. Is that not punishment enough for a wrong done against her, not by her?”

  Gabriel sat back in his seat, lips pursed. “The Covenant is set.”

  “You can change it. The Archangels have always held the power of life.”

  “Lilith will demand recompense. The payment would be high.”

  “Worse than an army of werewolves under her control?”

  “That would still happen. When the thousand years are up, your allegiance returns to Lilith.”

  “Not if I’m dead. Grant her this one mortal life, and Torr will end mine now.”

  “That wasn’t the deal,” Torr snapped.

  “I’ve thought it through. And it was always going to happen—I’ve had nearly a thousand years to come to terms with it.” Torr growled, and Finn growled right back. “What? You’d prefer me to go back to Lilith?”

  “Give us time to find another way.”

  “There is no more time. Time is fucking running out.”

  Torr shook his head, but shut up, because there was no other way.

  Gabriel leaned forward. “This isn’t a bargaining tool?”

  He wished he could say it was, that it was his death in exchange for Rachel’s life. But at the last minute, he couldn’t do it. Because whatever happened, he would never return to Lilith. And if Rachel died now, he wouldn’t want to go on. He knew that. So this was it. He exhaled. “No. It’s not a bargaining tool. It’s a request. Allow Rachel her mortal life.” He thought of something, “Look over her, make sure she’s happy, and I will end mine.” Or rather Torr would end his.