Dying to Live: The Shifter City Complete Series

by Liam Kingsley

  Logan crossed his arms and slumped low in the seat, biting his tongue. He’d said too much. He waited for Hail to start screaming at him again, ached for it, just so he could scream back. A pressure against his ribs screamed to be set free, but he couldn’t keep on that tangent. His brain darted around, searching for everything he knew about Hail, every moment that they’d spent together, to find something. Anything that he could sink his teeth into, anything that he could brandish as a weapon against the swirling, black pain inside.

  “I’m sorry,” Hail said quietly.

  “What?” The words jolted Logan out of his internal storm, freezing everything in place.

  “I’m sorry for everything you went through,” Hail said.

  “Whatever,” Logan snapped, still unsure of how to react. “Who says I went through anything?”

  Hail slid a glance at him out of the corner of his eye.

  “You ever want to talk about it, I’ll listen,” he said.

  “Nothing to talk about,” Logan lied. “Just drive the damn van, alright?”

  Hail shut up and steered while Logan watched the shadows slide by outside of the window. Screams filled his mind in echoing memories, and he pushed them away impatiently. He didn’t need to deal with that tonight. Or ever, if he had his way. But the memories refused to leave, and slowly the reflections and shadows in the window took on a life of their own. He hit the button on his pendant.

  “What’s up?” Mariella asked. She sounded tired.

  “Think it’s booze thirty,” Logan said. “And you need a nap.”

  “Right? Okay. Looks like we got a town coming up in a couple miles. You get the booze, I’ll find a place to park.”

  “Sounds good. Call when you get a place and we’ll meet you.”

  He released the button and returned to staring out the window, flipping his new debit card through his fingers. Mariella pulled off the highway toward the glittering lights of the small town, and Hail followed. They parted ways at a little convenience store, and Logan shook himself.

  “What do you want to drink?” he asked.

  “I don’t know. Not much of a drinker. Just a soda or something,” Hail said with a shrug.

  Logan looked at him thoughtfully for a second.

  “What have you had?”

  “Beer,” Hail said, making a face. “Wasn’t impressed.”

  Logan smiled. “I’ll get you your soda on one condition.”

  “What’s that?”

  “You try some of the stuff I’m gonna buy.”

  Hail rubbed his finger across his mouth, fighting a smile. “Alright,” he said. “But if I hate it, I’m blaming you.”

  “I think I’ll live,” Logan said wryly as he slid out of the van.

  He made his choices carefully, and he made many of them. He had a lot of money and a virgin palate to tempt, and he wasn’t about to waste the opportunity. The store was empty, so Logan began loading up the counter with bottles. He made five trips, and by the time he was done, the cashier was staring at him with wide, shocked eyes.

  “Having a party?” she asked.

  “Nope, just a Tuesday,” he grinned.

  She raised her thin eyebrows and started scanning his bottles. He bought a couple packs of cigarettes, too; Mariella was probably running out, and she’d appreciate the gesture. As soon as he’d added them to the bill, the pendant began to vibrate.

  “What’s up?”

  The cashier gave him a sideways look, and he just smiled at her.

  “Hey, can you get me a couple packs? I just killed the last one, and if we’re gonna be drinking….”

  “Man, I wish you would have caught me two minutes ago,” Logan said, holding a finger to his lips at the cashier. “I seriously just left.”

  “Oh. Don’t worry about it. I texted Hail, he knows where to go.”

  “Alright, see you in a few.”

  “Yeah,” she sighed heavily.

  Logan released the button and grinned, and the cashier just rolled her eyes. A swipe of the card and ten bags later, Logan was back in the van.

  “Did you buy the whole store?” Hail asked.

  “Nah, just the good parts. Don’t worry, I remembered the soda.”

  Hail looked at him suspiciously. “Are you trying to get me drunk?” he asked.

  “What if I am?” Logan shot back. His mood had lifted, and he was more than ready to play.

  “Then I’ll have to remind you, sir, that I am a man of virtue and shall not be swayed to your bed by the devil’s juice!” Hail said dramatically.

  Logan laughed and twisted the top off of a drink.

  “Hey, hey, no, put that away, that’s completely illegal,” Hail said quickly, trying to grab the drink.

  “More illegal if you’re holding it,” Logan grinned. “Just drive right, nobody’ll notice.”

  Logan laughed at Hail quietly as he drove the exact speed limit all the way to the rest stop where Mariella was waiting for them. Sweat popped up on his brow and his knuckles whitened every time Logan took a drink, sending Logan into hysterics by the time they parked.

  “Get out,” Hail snapped.

  “Oh come on, you didn’t get caught!”

  “Could have. Should have. Get out.”

  “You need a drink,” Logan told him. “Here, try this one.”

  Hail only glared in response and slammed out of the cab. He opened the side doors a moment later.

  “Change your mind?” Logan asked innocently. “Here, this one’s pomegranate.”

  “I’m checking on Robert,” Hail said impatiently. “Get your boozy ass out of the van.”

  “Alright, alright,” Logan said, laughing. “Don’t blow a fuse.”

  “I’ll blow your fuse,” Hail grumbled without thinking.

  “Promise?” Logan smirked.

  Hail glared, but it was forced, and a smile fought for dominance over his expression. He rolled his eyes and climbed into the van, then went to check on Robert. Logan took his purchases over to the picnic table, where Mariella was lying, looking at the stars. Setting the bags down on the bench, Logan pulled the two packs out and tossed them onto her bare belly. She gasped, then screamed.

  “You’re an ass,” she laughed, ripping the cellophane off. “I was all set to be bitchy tonight.”

  “Nobody wants that,” Logan said. “Let me have one.”

  “How you gonna woo your altar boy with smoke on your breath?” She asked, snatching the packs up before he could grab one.

  “Who says I’m gonna?” Logan shot back, lunging for the cigarettes.

  “That look on your face,” she grinned. “That wolf on the prowl thing you got going on. Same look you had the night you and José hooked up.”

  “Never tell me my tells,” Logan said with mock severity. “And gimme!”

  “Fine,” she sighed, flipping one of the long paper tubes at him. “But if it kills his drive, don’t come crying to me.”

  “I never cry,” Logan said haughtily.

  “Nah, you just shoot things,” she said teasingly.

  Something shifted in Logan’s core, and suddenly he didn’t want to play this game anymore. There was truth in her insinuation, and he didn’t like it. It was too real, too close to an open wound. So he pressed the cold, inviting bottle to his lips and drank deeply, watching as Hail and Robert exited the van.

  “You gonna hit that?” Logan asked, gesturing with his bottle at Robert.

  “Eh, maybe. He wants to.”

  “Obviously,” Logan said. “But what do you want?”

  “One of those pomegranate things,” she dodged. “Gimme.”

  He twisted the top off for her and passed her the bottle, and she took a big swallow.

  “It matters, you know,” Logan said quietly as the two men approached.

  “What does?”

  “What you want. Doesn’t always have to be what somebody else wants. You’re the goddamn alpha, Mare, you get to choose.”

  “I am, aren’t
I?” She said proudly. “I am the goddamn alpha.”

  They clinked their bottles and drank as their problematic potential partners approached.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “Holy cow.” Robert whistled when he saw the seemingly endless supply of alcohol. “Who died?”

  “My Uncle,” Logan said dryly. “Idone T. Van Givafuck.”

  Mariella choked on her drink and Robert just shook his head. He shrugged, then sat on the table beside Mariella. “Don’t die,” he told her as he grabbed a bottled screwdriver.

  “Thanks,” she choked. “Good advice. I’ll remember that.”

  “You better.”

  She shot him a thoughtful look, and sipped her drink. Hail hesitantly took in the slew of options, and caught Logan watching him with a sly smile.

  “Alright, you win,” Hail said. “Where do I start?”

  “Hm…well definitely not that one,” he said, gesturing at a bottle of something which glittered gold in the moonlight. “Something easy, um…here, try this.” Logan handed him a bottle. Hail put the bottle aside without even looking at it, recognizing the smirk on Logan’s face. He picked up the glittering bottle instead, uncapped it, and took a swig. He instantly regretted it. The burning whiskey was amplified by the fiery explosion of cinnamon. His throat closed and his eyes watered, but Logan was grinning a dare at him. He forced the burning liquid down, squeezing tears from his eyes as it went, then he dissolved into spluttering, hacking coughs. Logan burst out laughing.

  “He told you,” Mariella laughed.

  “Seriously, dude, he literally warned you,” Robert grinned.

  Hail could only shake his head and cough. Mariella finally took pity on him, and offered him a drink of hers.

  “It’s basically juice,” she told him. “With just a li’l kick.”

  He swallowed gratefully, and the fruity beverage soothed his abused throat.

  “Thanks,” he croaked, handing it back to her. He glared through his grin as he turned to Logan. “You’re an ass.”

  “Who, me?” Logan said innocently. “I warned you.”

  “Exactly,” Hail said, sitting down. “Cute trick, though.”

  Logan winked and took a drink. Hail picked up the bottle that Logan had handed him before, and groaned. It was the soda he’d asked for. Logan cracked up again, and slid another bottle across the table.

  “Try this one,” he said. “You’ll like it. No tricks, honest to dog.”

  “Dog?” Hail asked, examining the label. It looked okay. He twisted the top off and took a drink. Tasted like mango cough syrup, but it soothed his throat and warmed his belly. “How much have you had to drink?”

  “Barely anything,” Logan said pitifully, throwing his empty bottle at a trash can and opening another.

  “Enough to get verbal dyslexia,” Hail teased.

  “Nah. I’d rather swear to dog than God. One actually exists.”

  Hail considered him thoughtfully as he drank.

  “Not much of a believer, huh?”

  Logan shook his head. “Seen too much. And too little. Dogs are better.”

  “Too much what and too little what?” Hail asked.

  Logan smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. They seemed hollow and sad in the low light, and Hail wondered again what Logan had lived through.

  “The longer you’re out, the more you’ll see it,” Logan said vaguely.

  “Got any examples?” Hail asked, feeling suddenly bold.

  “Sure,” Logan said after a moment. “Hunger. Too much food, too little getting to hungry people. Too many houses, too many homeless people. Everything’s like that, you just gotta look for it.”

  “So, what’s the too little of too much booze?” Hail asked with a grin.

  “Filters,” Logan replied. “For your tongue.”

  “My tongue needs a filter?”

  “Or your brain. Definitely my brain.”

  “And yet, you drink.”

  “Maybe I’m tired of filters.”

  “So, what do you say when you have no filters?”

  “Stick around.” Logan winked. “You might just find out.”

  Hail smiled and sipped on his drink. Mariella and Robert were deeply involved in their own conversation on the other side of the table. They looked friendlier than they had before, and Hail had to wonder if it was the alcohol’s doing. He was already beginning to feel it. He wasn’t sure he would like remembering it, but he certainly enjoyed living it—the slowing in his mind, the excitement in his nerves. He wanted to touch somebody, but he was beginning to wonder if Logan was actually touchable in any kind of real sense. He had mastered the art of conversation, dancing around and away from anything important or real. It lit a fire to Hail’s natural curiosity, and insatiable thirst to know what lay behind the defensive layers.

  “Look at that tree line,” Hail said, nodding at the shadows on the horizon. “Looks like water.”

  “Yep,” Logan agreed.

  “Want to take a walk over there?”

  “Booze is here, though.”

  “So bring a couple. Come on, I want to do something.”

  “Oh,” Logan sighed. “You’re one of those drinkers.”

  “Maybe. Hail shrugged. “Never been a drinker before, don’t know what kind I am.”

  “You’re the irritating kind,” Logan said flatly.

  “Alright then, I’ll go by myself.” Hail shrugged again. He didn’t really care at this point. He’d brought it up because he wanted to get Logan away from the group to talk a little more candidly, but now curiosity had gotten the better of him. He wanted to explore new places, walk on ground he’d never walked before. Cabin fever clung to him like a waxy residue, and he desperately needed to shake it off. He stood, and his head spun just a little.

  “Whoa,” he laughed. “It’s like when you were a kid, and you hung upside down for too long? Head rush, that’s it. Woo! This might be fun!” He opened a second bottle, tossing the first in the trash as he passed it.

  “Hail, sit down,” Logan groaned.

  “Nope!” Hail declined happily. “I’m free as a bird and the world is my oyster. I’ve never had an oyster, are they any good? Are they the ones that make pearls, or am I thinking clams?” He heard footsteps behind him, and turned to see Logan. “Hey, buddy! I thought you weren’t coming?”

  “Sheltered, drunken idiots get lost. I’m not coming with you, I’m watching you.”

  “Oh, I’m not drunk,” Hail said, pushing the idea away with his hand. “I’m just relaxed. Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve been relaxed?”

  “Uh…gonna say about five days,” Logan said.

  “Five days? Why five days?”

  “Because five days ago you got the lay of a lifetime,” Logan grinned.

  “Oh, that. No, that was not relaxing at all. It was super fun, and super satisfying, but not at all relaxing. I didn’t sleep! I needed to, God I was tired, helped Snow deliver a baby that day at like four in the morning, was totally ready for sleep. But no, that stupid thing kept me up.”

  “What stupid thing?”

  “Conscience,” Hail said with a bit of disgust.

  “Oh, that. I fired mine a while ago. What was yours upset about?”

  “Taking advantage,” Hail said seriously. “Newly fertile shifters are always super horny after they wake up from the coma. We usually send them back to their partners as soon as possible so they don’t do anything relationship-ending, but you said you didn’t have a partner, so I didn’t really know what to do. Should have kept you isolated for a few more days I think, but Broderick wouldn’t have it. What I shouldn’t have done was have sex with you, that was just super line crossing in all kinds of ways.”

  Logan laughed, which startled Hail. “You think…you think you took advantage of me?” he gasped.

  “Well yeah, I know the biology and the pattern and everything, I should have…what’s the word…enforced the boundaries. Doctor patient boundaries or whatever
.”

  “But you weren’t my doctor,” Logan reminded him lightly. “You were my babysitter. Snow was my doctor.”

  “Yeah, but…oh he was, wasn’t he? I didn’t even see your chart, he just told me to…no, no, that’s a technicality. You’re playing with semantics.”

  “Semantics are my favorite tools,” Logan said, sounding pleased. “You can get around just about anything with semantics.”

  “Not this,” Hail sighed. “I screwed up. When Snow finds out, he’ll fire me, and rightfully.”

  “Okay first, how is Snow going to find out? Second, you have a new job now. Field medic with the Shifter Squad.”

  “Shifter Squad?” Hail asked, momentarily amused.

  “Yeah, it’s our superhero team name. Came up with it this morning. Alliteration and everything; Stan Lee would be proud.”

  “Right,” Hail laughed. “Field medic with the Shifter Squad. But if Snow takes it to Broderick…”

  “How is he even going to know?” Logan interrupted. “You gonna tell him?”

  “Well…”

  “Do you enjoy getting fired?”

  “Of course not, but…”

  “But,” Logan scoffed. “Always with the buts. Snow won’t know unless you tell him. Did anyone get hurt?”

  “I…well shit, Logan, how the hell would I know? It’s not like you broadcast your feelings or anything. You acted hurt.”

  “What? No I didn’t.”

  “You did. That morning at breakfast, making a point of talking about your sexual conquests, how everything is a game to you and feelings are immaterial or whatever.”

  “First, I never used that word in my life. Second, I wasn’t hurt. I was making a point.”

  “Really? What point? That the night before meant literally nothing, and if I developed feelings for you I could expect to be publicly shamed over breakfast?”

  Logan was silent for a long time.

  “I didn’t…”

  “You did.”

  “It wasn’t…”

  “It was.”

  “Do you even know what I’m…”

  “I do,” Hail laughed. “Look, Logan, maybe the kids didn’t pick up on it, but everybody else did. It was clear as day. You were calling José out for fucking you into a coma, and laughing at him for feeling like shit about it. I mean, I applaud your creativity. You cut José to pieces and built a wall between you and me with just a few sentences. It was brilliant, really.” Anger was beginning to seep into his voice, and he took a drink to quiet it.