Shifters Hallows Eve

by Lori King

  She casts a dark look at the empty shot glasses she had just set before me. “You won’t find peace in a bottle of my 190-proof rum.” Despite the seriousness of her words and the moment, I can still hear the pride in her voice over the Immortal strength hooch she distills for her brethren, boosting the alcohol content with a bit of magic.

  I only nod. What the fuck can I say to that? I know I am being a pansy-ass. It’s the same thing every fucking year. Halloween approaches and I turn into a woe-is-me asshole who spends his time getting drunk and wallowing in regrets and what-ifs. This is so not who I am meant to be. Not who I ever thought I would become. But it’s my reality… for now.

  Tara nods. Obviously, she knows I’m not gonna pull myself up by my bootstraps tonight, probably not any night in the immediate future. Her thumb caresses my full bottom lip, and I can feel the pressure against my extended fang. Obviously, the vamp can feel it, too. “You need to feed,” she says in a gently chiding tone. I can see the genuine concern in my friend’s gaze. For those of us who need blood to survive, going without can have dangerous consequences. “Go feed and fuck a live woman. Forget about the dead human girl.” Her words carry no judgment, just honest advice. She smirks playfully at me and says, “Do it before I tell Blood you volunteered to patrol the trick-or-treaters this year.”

  I groan loudly at the thought. Only the lowest-ranking members or assholes who broke one of Blood’s few rules get stuck with trick-or-treat duty on Halloween. It’s certainly not a task I would willingly volunteer for. Tara’s expression and tone are once again serious when she says, “Go upstairs, Joker. Feed. Fuck. Sleep.” Her matter-of-fact tone makes me smirk. Tara is a witch who was turned into a vamp against her will a long time ago. She’s well aware of my needs, and makes no bones about the importance of meeting those needs. She casts a quick glance toward the stairs that lead to the private floors of the MC. “Glory is off tonight, but she’s in her room.”

  I shrug. It’s really very solid advice, and not something I am averse to doing. I like Glory. A lot, in fact. She’s an Immortal, I just ain’t sure what kind. She hangs around the MC masquerading as a mortal sweet-butt, but it’s plain as the big-assed nose on my ugly face that she’s hiding out from someone, and has the Twin Ravens’ protection. Glory is a beautiful and willing female, whose blood keeps my demon side satisfied for weeks at a time. But she’s not who I want tonight. No, tonight I am hankerin’ for a certain female from my past, but that new waitress just might do in her stead. She smells almost as sweet as my own lost love.

  I guess I must have been caught casting my eye at the waitress in question, because Tara laughs heartily before rebuking me like a foolish youth. “You aren’t that stupid, wolf-boy. Not even approaching Samhain.” Tara gifts me with another chaste caress on my cheek, causing me to drag my eyes back to her lovely face. Her gentle smile softens her warning… but not much. The message is still plain. “I know you saw Wrath watching that one.” I nod. “I know you are hurting right now, brother, but you really don’t wanna end up on his bad side. That beast never, ever forgets.”

  I suppress an involuntary shudder when I think about Wrath when he’s really fired up. That male came by his name honestly. He is the very embodiment of wrath. I’m about to nod my agreement and make my way upstairs to find Glory, when a couple of my brethren, Writhe and Coyote, sit at my table, and ask Tara for a round of beers. These fools might provide enough distraction to keep me out of trouble for a bit. I chuckle my wry amusement as I watch my idiot friends jostle for room on the padded bench seat like a set of squabbling, filthy-mouthed children.

  Maybe. Maybe not. It’s also just as likely they will help me find some even more serious trouble to get into. My truly stupid side chides in, What the fuck? Why not hang with the brothers? So, like the dumbass I am, I just greet them with a shit-eatin’ grin. I settle in to listen to their lies and stupid stories just to pass the time.

  2

  Joker

  “Splat! That fucker missed me by a mile, but got the asshole that was coming up behind me,” Coyote laughs raucously. Whenever you hear the male laugh, you have no doubt how he got his nickname. Well, that and the fact that he’s a true trickster and a coyote shifter of Navajo descent. He is animatedly relating how a semi-truck nearly wiped him out during a recent protection run. Our MC engages in just enough mundane illegal activity to keep our cover as an outlaw MC. Magic and the true deadly nature of our members keep the mortal MCs out of our territory. Despite my dark mood, Coyote’s stories are always entertaining as hell.

  I smile like a fool when the waitress who has been tempting me all night delivers another round of beers and shots to our table. She regards my companions carefully as she sets our drinks in front of us. I can tell that Writhe makes her uncomfortable, and I realize the chit has good instincts, for a mundane. Brother Writhe is a Ghoul who has been riding the edge for years now. I know the leaders of our little band of enforcers have been watching the male closely for some time. I guess they expect him to go rogue at any moment. I sure as hell hope not, because I really like the ugly bastard, but honestly, I wouldn’t be surprised. Writhe has some serious skeletons in his closet.

  Perhaps literally, considerin’ what Ghouls consider haute cuisine. I barely suppress a shudder of revulsion. Despite my own thirst for human blood, the thought of eating human flesh sickens me. Again, I hope Writhe is keeping his shit together and following the rules. Ghouls in the mortal realm are supposed to subsist on animal flesh, and rarely, the flesh of deceased humans. But many whisper their meals taste best, and imbue their beings with more magick, when eaten from the bones of a living victim.

  With a shudder of disgust, I push those dark thoughts away to focus on the waitress and my friends. I pour on my “Creole Charm” to flirt a bit with the pretty young gal. Normally, this routine would be my warm up act for getting into her panties and feeding from her blood. But that’s not gonna happen with this lil’ gal. I want her, make no mistake ‘bout that, but I am smart enough to know she’s off limits.

  Sadly, it seems that not all of my MC brethren have gotten the message. Writhe pats her luscious backside, and asks her if she wants to ride him. I open my mouth to warn my brother off, but before I can get the words out of my mouth, the big Norse wolf is standing behind the girl, giving us a look that plainly says, “Back. The. Fuck. Off.”

  Writhe withdraws his hand so fast, you’d think the gal’s ass was on fire. His look of shock plainly reveals he had not been paying attention tonight. A brother would have to be truly oblivious not to have noticed that Wrath was watching the human female from the moment she walked through the door. Hell, he even followed her outside when she went on her break.

  I nod at the big male to acknowledge his claim and protection of the human female, as I suppress another chuckle over Writhe’s reaction. Yep, Tara saved me an ass whoopin’ fo sho. I am startled to realize I had actually been dumb enough to have considered feeding from the female for even a moment. “The approaching Samhain is really screwin’ wid me,” I mutter under my breath.

  The waitress seems to sense Wrath’s presence behind her. But the male moves too fast. When the gal turns to check, all she sees is the Viking muther-fucker’s back as he strides away through a crowd of drunken bikers and their women. I suppress a chuckle because watching this thing between the Norse wolf and this purty lil’ mundane waitress unfold is gonna be highly entertainin’. I’m still smiling as I down the other two shots of rum before sippin’ on my beer again.

  To kick off the bullshit fest with my brothers, I relate the story about this one time I chased off some gator hunters down in the Bayou while I was in wolf form. I know this will keep Writhe, Coyote, and me out of trouble for a while. We can spend hours exchanging stupid stories and outrageous lies. It’s part of the reason why the MC brethren dubbed me Joker. I’m damned good at distracting folks with my antics and colorful tales.

  * * *

  Closing time for the public part of the MC
’s clubhouse is fast approaching, and the bar is nearly empty. The magick of the place always kicks in just before closing time, making the mundane customers suddenly realize they want to be somewhere else… anywhere else but here. Despite that, they are always ready to come back the next night, completely forgetting their intense need to leave the night before. I chuckle; it’s good for business and makes closing time a snap.

  I’m preoccupied thinking about Tara’s magick on the club, but I can’t help the genuine smile of pleasure when Susie, one of the favorite club sweet-butts, saunters up to our table. I like this gal, I always have. I can smell her arousal. The pretty little submissive human female is needful tonight, and I almost envy the male lucky enough to get her attention.

  Susie has her own demons which haunt her; hell, we all do. But her specters drive her to seek physical domination, subjugation, and sometimes a bit of humiliation, along with her sex. Hey, we all got our kinky needs and wants around this place. Whatever her story might be, she’s a skillful, generous, and truly carnal lover. And sweet Susie knows she’s always safe among the Twin Ravens brethren. We’ll take the pleasure she’s offerin’, but make damn sure to give her what she needs and keep her safe in the process. I watch as she flirts a bit with all three of us, but her attention is fully on me. Obviously, I am the male of her choice… tonight.

  Honestly, I am relieved. Not just because I know I’ll get a damned good time from the female, I also worry that Writhe, or even Coyote, will go too far. When a female is willing to submit like that to a male, to truly surrender all control, the male of her choice has an obligation to protect her and not let things go too far. Having a bit of a kink, or peculiar needs, doesn’t lessen a person’s value, and I’m not too certain my drinking buddies truly realize that.

  I am distracted from my musings when she trails a pale hand down my arm. Without conscious thought, I am transfixed by the stark contrast between our skin tones. The dissimilarity between her creamy pale skin and my café au lait forearm makes me recall another woman, many, many years ago, who had light skin and liked to touch my body.

  As though in a trance, I tear my gaze from Susie’s hand to look up into her lovely face, yet I don’t really see her features. Nope. If I am being honest, I am seeing another face in my memories. A very different face. Sweetly rounded, with bright amber-colored eyes, and full red lips framed by a wild mane of tight ebony curls cascading wildly down her body. Curls I used to toy with during our quiet moments together and yank hard during our frequent bouts of hard and wild fuckin’.

  When this sexy as sin female kneels before me to unzip my raggedy-assed jeans, all I can do is grin like I’ve won the fuckin’ lottery. The first touch of her hot tongue on the bulbous head of my big willy makes me moan my pleasure. Fuck, yeah! Her little breathy sound of pleasure when her tiny pink tongue laps up my pre-cum fills me with anticipation and fuels my hunger for sex and blood. The only thing I enjoy more than getting head, is going down on a woman and feeding from her in the process. Blood and pussy, my favorite flavor combination.

  I tightly knot my hands into her long, thick hair and moan my pleasure as she takes my full length into her mouth, sucking hard. This woman loves sucking cock, and does it gods-damned well, too. I also happen to know from past experience that she loves it rough, so I pump upwards, and ram the back of her throat, causing her to gag just a bit. “Fuck, but I love dat sound when I’m gettin’ head,” I growl, letting my inner beast come to the fore. This female loves the rough treatment, and tonight I am just the male to give it to her. In spades. Saints preserve my polluted soul, but I need this.

  My inner demon howls his delighted glee as a solitary tear rolls from her eye, due to me shoving my big cock halfway down her throat. Whether the waterworks are from pain, or an involuntary reaction to being gagged by my cock, I know not. Honestly, in this moment, it doesn’t matter. This woman knew what she was getting when she knelt before me. I quickly pull back and repeat my sadistic pleasure-seeking as I tighten my grip in her hair so she can’t back off. She’s gonna take all I got to give her. I know she can deep-throat any cock in the place. Tonight, she’s gonna swallow mine repeatedly and then thank me for fucking her mouth as she licks me clean.

  I thrust my hips up, and not-so-gently push her head down, forcing her to take all of my considerable length. This time, the sweet-butt with the million-dollar mouth is ready for me. She simply swallows me down with a moan… hopefully it’s a sound of pleasure. I’m an asshole, but I want the female to enjoy it. The darker side of my nature, the side that revels in inflicting small amounts of pain during sex, don’t give a flying fuck. He just wants to fuck her hot little mouth, and fuck it hard. The man I used to be, the one who cared about someone besides himself, resolves to make sure I share a drop of my blood to heal any minor injury I might inflict seeking my pleasure from this mortal’s body.

  I grin like the selfish bastard I am, because my rough treatment doesn’t even slow the sweet-butt down one little bit. She’s working hard to give me just what I need, and taking her own pleasure in the process. That sweet fuckin’ mouth of hers just sucks me harder, taking me in deeper and making me revel in pure carnal satisfaction. She makes this sweet little humming noise that vibrates against my sensitized cock, making my eyes roll back into my head as I savor the pleasure of the moment. “Fuck yeah, dawlin’,” I moan and pump hard, again and again.

  When the scent of her suddenly ramped-up arousal hits my nostrils, my mind quickly fast-forwards to finding a dark corner or maybe bending her over this here table, fucking her sweet cunt hard while I sate the demon’s need for blood, and the wolf’s need to dominate. “Yeah.” I moan. “Suck me hard, lil’ one.”

  Lost in a sea of wicked sensation and carnal lust, I barely notice when the waitress comes back for last call and makes a joke about me being occupied. The new waitress has walked away, and I am about to shoot my load down the lovely sweet-butt’s throat when I absolutely lose my fuckin’ mind, as well as the last semblance of control over my inner beast because the sweetest scent in all of creation hits me like a wild hurricane down on the Gulf. As the aroma assaults my senses and warps my thinkin’, I am immediately transported back in time as the essence of sage, wood-smoke and magnolias fills my senses and overrides my awareness of time and space. My seeking fingers desperately wrap tighter in the silky tresses as I pump my cock between swollen, red lips which have haunted my dreams for ages. The tendrils of scent wrap around my heart and mind to transport me to another time, a time when I was another man. A man being loved so skillfully by The One.

  I am so fucking lost in my dreams of the past that I loosen my control over my own body to thrust harder and faster into the female’s willing mouth, desperately seeking physical release and perhaps oblivion from the agonizing loss which taints my very soul. As one of the most powerful orgasms of my life washes over me, my movements become increasingly frantic until they gradually taper off to become nothing more than reflexive twitches. Heavily-hooded eyes close as my head falls back, and now numb hands drop uselessly to my sides.

  I revel in a sea of satiation and peace. Holy fuck! That feelin’ of being well loved, knowing my place in the world, which I once savored every day, now has me wrapped up tight in the sweetest embrace. Part of my mind knows it just ain’t possible. I’m a genuine fool dat wants to relish this feelin’, false or not.

  I’m only vaguely aware of the female licking my semi-limp dick clean, and putting it back in my jeans. And I am not sure how long I remain in that blissfully sated state before I raise my head to gaze lovingly at the female who just pleasured me so beautifully. That scent is even stronger in my nostrils now, and it’s rendering me mindless. A pervasive sense of euphoria is taking over my mind and I am in a dream state because of it. Instead of the lovely Susie kneeling before me, who’s now licking her lips and looking up at me for approval and acceptance, it’s Jenniene… my sweet, sweet fuckin’ Jenni looking up at me with the purest love in her eyes. The res
t of creation just falls away, leaving nothing but me and this woman in its wake.

  Without conscious thought, I reach down to wind my hands forcefully in her long locks to drag her lovely face up to mine for a searing kiss. I use a fang to slash my tongue so that my blood will flavor my mouth, and impart the gift of healing, in case my rough treatment caused any damage. My wolf-demon blood doesn’t taste like mundane blood. I’ve been told it’s sweet and tangy. Utterly delicious and undeniably potent. My woman laps eagerly at the inside of my mouth before sucking on my tongue with all the enthusiasm she swallowed my cock with.

  My woman? Her taste and scent are off, but I’m too fuckin’ far gone to even process the wrongness of my thoughts. My instincts are driving me forward; my need is causing me to drown in the sweet scent of my Jenniene. All the while, my logical mind is screaming at me, urging me toward common sense and caution. Despite the internal warning that I am bewitched somehow, I revel in the moment. I can scent my female, so I cut loose with all of the need that’s raged in my soul over a century as I eagerly devour my woman.

  Mine!

  My inner beasts are snarling to claim and hold what belongs to us, and I pull the female closer to my body, sliding my hands down her back to savor her curves, and cup her round ass. An ass that’s much smaller than I recall, but still I clutch and grope her flesh in a desperate need to reclaim what’s mine.

  Mindless want takes over, and I deepen the kiss before I pull back just enough to murmur all of the sweet things I have longed to say for so very fuckin’ long, against these beloved lips. I am fucking oblivious to everything but the woman I am worshipping with my mouth. “Jolie bébé, I’ve missed you so fucking bad.” I nip her lip and she cries out as my fangs break the skin… just a bit. “You are mine, Jenni. Always mine. Only mine.” I savor the hint of her precious blood…