Shifter Crown: Valley of Truth and Denial (The Shifter Crown Series Book 1)

by Desni Dantone

  A past I cannot remember. Magical realms and kingdoms. Dangerous shifters and threats on my life. My mother.

  Holy shit, my mom was one of them.

  I am one of them.

  How is any of this real?

  I spend a long time in the shower, and an even longer time staring in the mirror afterward. I don’t look any different. I don’t feel any different.

  I’m definitely more confused and overwhelmed than I felt yesterday, but I don’t feel like a shifter. Maybe Luca is wrong. Maybe my mom wasn’t a shifter. Maybe I am . . . just a human.

  I burst from the bathroom, prepared to question Luca’s sources. I want to know why he is convinced that I’m a shifter. For all we know, I didn’t shift on my birthday because I’m not actually a shifter.

  Has he considered that?

  I can’t ask him, because he is gone.

  The bed is made. Dad’s clothes are folded and placed neatly on my pillow. So is the towel.

  My eyes flutter shut, and I send a quiet prayer through the ceiling. “Don’t be walking around my house naked.”

  Deep, male voices drift through the floor, from the living room—at least two. Hoping one of them is Luca, and that he has managed to find some clothes, I go downstairs.

  I stop a few steps from the bottom when I see him. He is dressed for summer in a white sleeveless T-shirt, khaki shorts, and the same leather sandals he wore the day he walked into the store and disrupted my boring life.

  Ryse stands at the front door, hand on the knob and dark, expensive-looking shades covering his eyes. I feel the heat of his gaze when it shifts to me.

  I wish I could say something to him, but a breezy “good morning” just isn’t going to come out of my mouth after everything I’ve learned over the past twelve hours. Plus, he’s intimidating as hell.

  Instead, I point out Luca’s new outfit. “You didn’t get any of that from my dad’s wardrobe.”

  I’m a fan of the cut-off sleeves and the muscle on display, but I don’t let my eyes linger there too long. I embarrassed myself enough last night. I don’t want Luca to realize just how pathetic I am, and I definitely don’t want Ryse to witness it.

  “Ryse brought a bag of clothes,” Luca explains.

  Since Luca brought him up, I force myself to look in Ryse’s direction with a smile. “Hello, again.”

  He lifts his chin fractionally. I suppose that is his version of a greeting.

  “Ryder already cleaned up the mess in the yard,” Luca adds. “He’s getting a new window for your room now. Everything will be back to normal by the time you get home from work.”

  Ryse snorts. I’m not sure what exactly he finds funny—his brother slaving away at the mess or my commitment to a summer job. I don’t particularly care either way. I’m running late.

  “I’ll be sure to thank Ryder the next time I see him,” I mutter as I move toward the door.

  Ryse doesn’t get the message—or doesn’t care—and I’m forced to squeeze between him and the door jam. I’m halfway through the tight space when a deep, low growl comes from inside the house. I glance back to find Luca glaring at Ryse. Tense seconds tick by with no one moving. Finally, Ryse eases out of my way.

  I’m not sure if I’m running from Ryse, Luca, or the entire situation when I hurry across the porch and down the steps. I speed-walk toward the driveway where my trusty little car awaits. It takes every ounce of willpower I have to not look over my shoulder.

  At the sound of gravel crunching behind me, I know I am being followed. Apparently, Luca thinks he’s coming with me when he opens the passenger side door and starts to climb into my car.

  “What are you doing?” I demand.

  “I’m riding with you.” Taking advantage of my stunned hesitation, he gets in. Shuts the door. Makes himself comfortable.

  I rip the door open and poke my head inside. “You’re not coming with me.”

  “Yes, I am.”

  “This is my job.”

  “And I’m a paying camper.” He grins.

  “So use your wolfy legs, and run there,” I suggest.

  That earns me a glare. No growl, but close to it.

  “Until I find whoever is behind the attacks, you are in danger,” he reminds me levelly. “As long as you are in danger, and unable to protect yourself, you will have one of us near you at all times. Would you rather I ask Ryse to ride along?”

  I glance toward the house, where Ryse is hoisting a large black garbage bag over his shoulder. He stiffens, and I suspect he is waiting to hear my response with his superior shifter ears. I doubt he wants to hang out with me any more than I want to with him.

  “No,” I grumble. Before I get in the car, I jab a stern finger at Luca. “You better be good. I need this job.”

  He shrugs.

  “I mean it, Luca.” I take my seat behind the wheel and start the engine. Before I pull away, I warn him one more time. “Be good.”

  “You should never expect anything less than my absolute best,” he says, though the grin he shoots in my direction is far from convincing.

  Danny is in the employee parking lot when I get there. I take a spot in the corner, as far from the back door to the office as I can get, but he still sees me.

  “Oh, no,” I mutter when he starts my way. Whipping around to Luca, I hiss, “Get out. Now.”

  Luca glances through the windshield as Danny approaches. He shakes his head. “Don’t think so.”

  “Then hide. Do something.” I wait for him climb into the back seat, crouch down on the floorboard, or anything in an attempt to prevent another uncomfortable scene this morning. The smirk on his face is all I need to see to know he isn’t going to make this easy. “Fine. I’ll go. Stay here.”

  I get out of the car quickly, hoping to intercept Danny before he gets close enough to see my passenger—assuming he hasn’t already.

  “Morning, Boss.” I wave cheerily as I shut the door behind me and hurry in Danny’s direction. “You’re arriving later than usual.”

  “And you’re . . . chirpier than usual.” He squints at me suspiciously.

  “Too much coffee.” I hook his arm in mine and spin him around on my way to the employee entrance.

  He doesn’t mention the hot guy in my car. He doesn’t question my oddly perky behavior. I count my blessings.

  Then a car door shuts behind me. Danny starts to turn.

  I stop him with a playful jab to the ribs. “So what did you do last night? Any new, cute boys I should know about?”

  “Actually . . .” Danny turns to me excitedly before I can stop him. His gaze drifts up to settle on something behind me, and his eyes go wide.

  “Morning,” Luca says. A tan, muscular arm juts out to offer a hand to my manager. “I’m Luca.”

  Danny shoots me a pointed look as he shakes Luca’s hand and introduces himself. It couldn’t be any more awkward.

  Then Luca manages to make it worse.

  He places his hand on my shoulder and adds, “I’m Sav’s boyfriend.”

  “Wh—what?” I spin around with a startled gasp. “No, you’re not.”

  Luca smiles at me. “We talked about this. This morning. In your room.”

  I turn to Danny with a nervous laugh. “He’s not my boyfriend.”

  “Technically,” Luca counters.

  “No. Not technically,” I hiss over my shoulder.

  “We never broke up,” he reminds me. “I think that makes me something.”

  I whip around and drive a finger into his sternum. “Your leaving, and never coming back, was the technical standard for a breakup.”

  His grin broadens.

  “Fine. Do you need an official statement? Here it is.” I pause for dramatic effect before spitting out, “You are not my boyfriend. You are not my anything.”

  “It’s complicated,” Luca tells Danny, ignoring me.

  “I can see that.” Danny studies Luca. Then me. Then Luca again. For the first time in the three years I’ve known him,
he is speechless. He motions toward the entrance with a sputter.

  I nod enthusiastically, eager to accept the moment of privacy he is graciously offering me to finish up with my “boyfriend.” The moment Danny disappears inside the office I spin on Luca.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” I whisper-yell. “You said you wouldn’t interfere with my job.”

  “I’m not interfering with your job,” he counters.

  “Then what just happened?”

  “I was meeting your manager,” he answers. “Officially.”

  “By telling him you were my boyfriend?”

  “That was probably uncalled for,” he admits, though the glint of humor in his eyes makes me doubt his sincerity. “But it was worth seeing the look on your face.”

  I glare at him.

  “In all seriousness, though, someone is a threat to you,” he reminds me. “Chances are it is someone you know. I need to get close enough to the people in your life to find out which one of them it is.”

  I cross my arms with a sigh. “And Danny?”

  “He’s not a shifter. The person we’re looking for is a shifter.”

  I think about his words for a moment before asking, “How do you know if someone is a shifter?”

  “Scent. Demeanor. Instinct, mostly,” he offers with a shrug. “I don’t really think about it. I just know one when I come across one.”

  “And you’re sure I am one?” I ask hesitantly, remembering the doubts I had earlier.

  “I’m positive. Even if I didn’t already know who your mother was, I can . . . sense it.”

  “You mean you can smell me?”

  “That’s part of it,” he admits with another infuriating grin.

  “So you need to . . . get a sense of the people around me?”

  “Until the guilty party is accounted for, yes.”

  “Can you do that from a respectable distance?” I ask. “At least, while I’m at work?”

  He stares at me for a moment, calculating. Finally, he says, “You won’t even know I’m here.”

  “And stop telling people you’re my boyfriend,” I add.

  “If that’s what you want.” His lips thin and his jaw clenches. He breathes through his nose as if to compose himself, and I can’t help but wonder what I said to elicit his reaction.

  It’s not disappointment over the whole boyfriend debacle. It can’t be. Not after what happened last night—or did not happen. He’s not interested in me like that. We have history, and he feels a sense of duty to help me. He has a twisted sense of humor and doesn’t respond well to rejection—even in the face of his own cruel jokes.

  There are many possible explanations for Luca’s demeanor, but none of them truly have anything to do with me. After last night, Luca’s romantic disinterest in me is the only thing I am certain of.

  Chapter 16

  Luca keeps his word. Though I know he is never far, and I feel his eyes on me most of the day, I do not see him again until I clock out and walk to my car. He’s waiting for me there with a scowl on his face.

  “Sniff out any shifters?” I wonder.

  He grunts something unintelligible, climbs in the car, and shuts the door without so much as a glance in my direction. The drive to my house is a quiet one. We say only the things that need to be said, and only because I drag the words out of him.

  According to Luca, the house is spotless and Dad will never know what happened. He tells me the shifters that got away last night are long gone, and no new threats have stepped up to take their place. Today was quiet, but he isn’t any closer to discovering the mastermind behind the attacks.

  Dad isn’t home when I get there. He’s back in town, according to the note he left on the kitchen counter, but he is at the shop. He will be working late, making up for the time he lost.

  Luca leans over my shoulder to read the message. “Looks like I’m stuck here for a while,” he mutters.

  A broad range of emotions take their turn at cutting through me. Anger. Resentment. Disappointment. He may not share my feelings, and he may not want to be here, but he doesn’t have to sound so miserable about being stuck with me.

  I realize I am far from an expert on the thoughts and behavior of the opposite sex, but I really screwed up on reading Luca. His true feelings couldn’t be more obvious to me now.

  I spin around quickly, prepared to defend what little pride I have left. “You don’t have to—” My forehead smashes into his chin, knocking him back.

  “Dammit, Sav.” He rubs his jaw.

  “Sorry,” I mumble. “I didn’t realize you were that close.”

  He snorts.

  “I don’t need you here,” I tell him. “You can leave, or whatever.”

  His hand drops away from his face and falls to his side. He stares at me for a moment, like he’s considering it. Then he shakes his head. “You shouldn’t be alone.”

  “My dad will be home soon,” I insist. “Late doesn’t really mean late. He considers anything after four o’clock late. It’s almost six. He should be home any minute now. I’ll be fine. Really.”

  Luca smirks. “One thing that I remember very well is that there is a surefire way of knowing when you’re lying, and that’s when you start rambling.”

  “I’m not rambling,” I argue. “I’m telling you facts. He’ll be home. Soon. In fact, I don’t want to be caught with a boy in the house, because that will probably get me grounded, so you should leave. Now.”

  Luca’s smirk grows. “You’re still rambling.”

  “Fine. Stay. Be miserable. See if I care.” I stomp away from Luca, and out of the kitchen, with a long, drawn-out growl.

  He trails after me with a chuckle. “Make that sound again. It’s hot.”

  I pause at the bottom of the stairs, thrown by his words. I look over my shoulder to find a wicked grin on his lips.

  And girls are accused of having severe mood swings? Luca has me reeling.

  “How about we don’t talk?” I suggest.

  “Those rules apply to every guy that follows you upstairs to your room, or just me?” He winks, and I know he’s teasing me again. He probably expects me to correct him, and tell him that I don’t routinely host guys in my room.

  Instead, I say, “Just you.”

  I wait long enough to witness his grin slip before I turn and start up the stairs. My spine tingles as he follows closely behind. Despite my words to the contrary, I don’t hate that he is here. The girly butterflies in my stomach prove that much. Damn, I wish they would go away.

  A door opens and shuts in the upstairs hallway, and a simple case of nerves blooms into full-on panic. Jill and Steve are here, and they’re coming. I hear their footsteps.

  I whip around to flee the scene, but Luca is blocking my path. He stands in my way, unaware of the confrontation about to go down. Or he doesn’t care.

  “Problem?” he asks.

  I force my wide eyes to return to their normal size. “Nope.”

  He nods at the landing above me. “Then let’s go.”

  I turn as Jill and Steve round the corner. They slow when they see us, and we meet on the stairs, a few steps from the top. No one speaks.

  Steve’s gaze swings back and forth between Luca and me, a suspicious look on his face. I realize how it looks, but I can’t bring myself to correct his inaccurate assumptions. Not when I see the look of awe on Jill’s face.

  She hasn’t looked at me once. I doubt she realizes I’m here. In a matter of seconds, she has appraised Luca and decided that he is worthy of her attention. I don’t blame her for being attracted to him—who wouldn’t be? But I’m not about to step aside and let her have him either.

  My eyes narrow. That bitch can bite her lip, bat her eyelashes, and push out her cleavage all she wants. She isn’t getting her way. Not this time. Not with Luca.

  He doesn’t seem to notice the tension when he reaches around me to extend a hand to my evil stepsister and ex-boyfriend like they are beloved friends instea
d of mortal enemies.

  “I’m Luca,” he introduces himself. “I’m a fr—”

  “My boyfriend,” I cut in.

  Steve’s eyes narrow into slits while Jill’s light up. Only then do I realize my mistake. Too late to fix it, I cross my arms and double down with a glower at Jill—not that she notices.

  With one big stupid lie, I’ve made Luca even more desirable to her. The smile she gives him turns almost predatory, and a surprisingly strong sense of possessiveness comes over me.

  I turn to grab Luca’s hand. “Let’s go.”

  “So where are you—”

  I silence Jill with a well-placed elbow to the ribs when I pass her. My grip on Luca’s hand tightens as I drag him after me. Jill and Steve watch silently from the stairs, each with their own very different thoughts.

  The instant we cross the threshold into my bedroom, I shut the door. I stand there as if to block anyone else from entering. It takes me a moment to realize my fingers are still entwined with Luca’s. I stare at our conjoined hands for a few awkward seconds before I slip free.

  His eyes follow me across the room while I put some much-needed distance between us.

  As promised, the window has been fixed, and the glass has been swept off the floor. To avoid the questions that I know are coming, I busy myself with tidying up everything else that needs some attention.

  All of my clothes are put away, my books are lined up perfectly on the bookshelf, and there is not one wrinkle in my bedsheets by the time I dare peek in Luca’s direction.

  As I suspected, he’s still watching me. Still waiting.

  I toss my hands up with a sigh. “What?”

  His voice is deep and smooth when he asks, “You want to tell me what that was about?”

  I snatch my copy of Little Women from the nightstand and place it on the bookshelf. “Nothing.”

  “That was definitely something.” His tone turns cold.

  I straighten a few pictures on the wall, ignoring him and the shiver that races up my spine in response to the change in his voice. Neither of us speaks for a long, uncomfortable moment. I nearly jump out of my shoes when a growl-like noise comes from his throat.