by Karin Shah
She cleared her throat. “Me too.”
He exhaled, a big release of breath that deflated his barrel-sized chest. It was the kind of sigh that hummed with satisfaction, an unspoken affirmation of complete accord.
A second afterward, he rolled until his legs were under him. His thick, wheaten hide dipped and rose. The air felt gravid with expectancy.
Her muscles tensed, her breath snagged in her throat. He was going to attempt the shift to human. Could he do it?
The moment spun out like soft taffy. Finally, a flash seared her eyes and he lay on the bed. The brilliant light had caused afterimages to obscure her vision. All she saw was his shape. A head, torso, two arms and two legs. Her stomach flipped. She didn’t care if he ever looked “normal,” but Roan cared.
Had he succeeded?
His hand lifted to probe his face.
She blinked to clear the multicolored spots and saw smooth skin and when his hands fell, a completely human face. A glowing bubble of gladness expanded against her ribs. “You did it.”
He sagged back against the pillows for a moment, taking great, deep breaths as if he’d run a hundred-yard dash. His face was wet.
There was something intensely poignant about seeing such a large powerful man surrender to his emotions. A fist squeezed her heart. He trusted her enough to be vulnerable in front of her.
She knelt on the side of the bed and wiped a tear away from his lean cheek. His human features were fiercely beautiful but it wasn’t the face she’d fallen for. “You’re very handsome. I love you in all your forms.”
He pressed her hand to his skin, closing his eyes for a moment. “I could feel your touch before, but it was muted. My skin feels so sensitive. It’s almost too much.”
She couldn’t imagine essentially wearing a coat of armor for years and suddenly being freed. It must be both a relief and a loss. On one hand, he’d been restricted and enclosed, but on the other, protected.
He stiffened for a moment, his brow folding, then his eyes went big with wonder. “And . . . and I remember. I remember my life before I was kidnapped.”
She sucked in a breath. “Really?”
He nodded. “Though, there’s not much to remember. I was a foster kid.” He glanced at the ceiling. “I couldn’t seem to stick anywhere. I was in my twelfth home when they took me.”
She reached out to clutch his wrist in comfort, but didn’t speak, letting him process.
Her phone dinged, announcing a notification. The sound seemed to jolt him from his reverie. His face was extremely mobile, fully human and it was easy to read his hesitation. “We’d better go.” He slowly put his feet on the floor.
She groaned, combing her fingers through her hair. All she wanted to do right now was spend time with Roan, but she continued to have responsibilities. She went to get her shoes.
There was another flash and when she turned back, the Roan she’d first met was yanking on his shorts. Her eyebrows shot up. He shrugged at her quizzical expression, and tugged his T-shirt over his head. “People at the carnival expect me to look like this.”
She finished tying her sneakers and went to him. “It’s just as well. Your other form is way too pretty.” She fluffed her curls and winked. “I don’t need the competition.”
Chapter 31
“Eris!”
Hearing the code name Aries had given to her so long ago, she hardly remembered her legal name, the stocky woman drew her Glock and waited for the intruder to round the corner of the rundown factory she was holed up in.
Deimos threw his hands up as he saw her, eyes wide in his dark face. “Jesus, Eris. I warned you I was coming.”
She shrugged and holstered her weapon, shoving a sheaf of short, gray bangs away from her face. She needed a haircut. She hated having her hair longer than a couple inches. Being constantly on the move sucked balls. “You don’t get as old as I am in Scorpius without double-and triple-checking everything.”
Deimos rocked his head this way and that on his thick neck, stretching the muscles and scoffed. “Scorpius doesn’t exist anymore.”
Eris grimaced. “You don’t have to tell me. I’m the one living in this shithole. When Scorpius was in business, I lived in a freaking five-star hotel.” She lifted her blocky chin. “Why are you here?”
He rubbed his hands together. The dry sound raised her hackles. He ignored her glare. “We’ve got a job.”
She snatched her phone off the battered metal desk she was using as a table and opened her banking app. “I don’t see a payment.”
“This is on spec.”
She chuffed. “We don’t work on spec.”
Deimos sighed. “Hear me out.”
She weighed him for a second. It wasn’t like money was going to start falling from the sky. “I’m listening.”
“Holcomb found Subject B.”
“Why would we want it? We dumped it years ago. It was defective.”
“Holcomb thinks the problem was it wasn’t old enough to shift. That Subject A was a special case.”
Eris puckered her brow. “So Holcomb thinks he can force it to shift now?”
“That’s what he says.” Deimos lifted a messenger bag and the tearing sound of Velcro opening rang through the space. He slid a tablet from the satchel, cued it up, and handed it to her.
She scanned through the documents and photos. “So it is Subject B. But who’s this woman? If it’s mated, we might as well forget it. We need it feral.”
“If it’s mated, even better.”
Eris scratched her suddenly itchy cheekbone with her pointer finger. “What are you talking about? There’s no way we can control a stable chimera.”
“We can. If we kill its mate.”
Now her eyebrow itched. “If we kill a chimera’s mate, it will die, after killing us, naturally.”
He shrugged his mountain-like shoulders. “That’s what they say, but I heard rumors when I worked for the Ethereal Council.”
Eris rolled her eyes. “Don’t make it sound glamorous. You were a low-level guard, little more than a gofer.”
He sliced an annoyed glance her way. “Be that as it may, while I was there, I became friendly with the lore keeper, and he said female chimeras whose mates are killed typically die, but male chimeras who lose their mates have a twenty-five-percent chance of death and a seventy-five-percent chance of going feral.”
Eris picked at her thumbnail as she considered the angles. “I’m not sure it’s worth the risk of possibly exposing Typhon.”
“What risk? If Subject B isn’t mated, we grab it and Holcomb gets to play with his chemistry set. He fails, we sell the body for science, or parts, or whatever. If Subject B is mated, we kill the mate. If it doesn’t go feral on its own, Holcomb does his chemistry voodoo. He fails, we can still sell the body parts to researchers, or herbalists, or whatever. No matter what happens, we either end up with a quick payday or another cash cow.”
Eris rifled through his argument, found a few flaws, but discarded them. She was sick of living like this. Typhon was worth a lot of money, but he had limitations. A second chimera would pad their bottom-line enough to get decent housing.
Her sigh lifted her overlong bangs. “I’d feel a lot better if we had a team. This is still a chimera we’re talking about. It and its mate won’t go down without a fight.”
Deimos smiled. “We have a team, you, me, Holcomb, and Typhon.”
Eris stared at him. “You want to use Typhon for this?”
Deimos crossed his arms and hefted his heavy shoulders. “You’ve heard ‘fight fire with fire.’ Who better to kill a chimera than another chimera?”
~ ~ ~
An odor hit Roan the minute he popped the passenger side door at the campground and stuck his leg out, eager to escape the
tight cage of the toy car Sofia drove. Chimera! Announced his primitive sides. He growled, retracted his foot, and slammed the door. His fingertips panged. His pulse tumbled into a sprint.
Sofia stared at him from her seat as if he’d gone crazy. “What?”
“There’s other chimeras here.”
Sofia grinned and scratched the back of her neck. “Damn! It’s impossible to give you a surprise. Thalia texted me. Roan, your family is here.”
My family. The words took his breath away.
From what Thalia had said, he knew he had some, but his turmoil over Sofia and the arrival of the deputy had driven the knowledge into the back of his mind.
He sniffed the air, parsing the scent. He detected several individuals. And now that he’d calmed down, he identified a commonality between them and himself. Had all his brothers come? A storm of emotions overtook him. He swallowed, overwhelmed. His life had changed so quickly. One minute he’d been an island, alone in a hostile sea. Now, he had a mate who loved him and family waiting to meet him.
It was a lot.
“Roan?” Sofia leaned toward him. “Are you okay?”
He nodded slowly. “I’m fine. I’m happy . . . I just need a moment.”
Her eyes filled with compassion. “I get it. Take your time. Families are complicated. I don’t know the whole story, but as my short-lived therapist used to say, ‘You don’t have to have been abandoned to feel abandoned.’”
Was that it? Did he feel like he’d been abandoned?
Thalia had explained how the brothers had been separated and that his oldest brother, Kyle, had been looking for him since before Roan had joined the carnival.
But, maybe there was some anger and resentment there, as irrational as it seemed.
He acknowledged the feelings and let them go. Dwelling on the past could only taint the present. They’d all been children. They’d all been alone.
No. Kyle and the others hadn’t been there for him in the past, but they were here now.
He opened the car door, the metal hinges creaking. “Let’s go meet my brothers.”
~ ~ ~
His family—five of his six brothers—were on the other side of the tent flap. Sofia had conferred with Lu over text and they’d dismissed the performers in order to commandeer the show tent, so he could meet his family in private.
Someone, maybe also Lu, had planted the idea that it would be great to spend the Friday evening partying in Tallahassee and stay the night, either bunking at the carnival or in a hotel.
The campground had cleared with almost superhuman speed. He shook his head. Never underestimate a carny’s ability to spontaneously party.
Sofia had pressed his bicep, murmured something about giving them space, and before he could protest, disappeared to her trailer, as well.
He stared at the tent entrance as if it were the gaping maw of a giant shark and shuffled his feet.
Now, that his memories had returned, he flashed back to all those strained first days of school after he’d changed foster homes. The hours before, he would be a ball of nerves, but hopeful too, thinking this place might be different. Here he might make a friend.
Then he’d get there and navigate the day. The most nerve-wracking part of any first day was where to sit at lunch. It wasn’t just a case of finding an empty seat, but whether the students near it would accept him. Inevitably, each of those first days had ended the same. Alone.
He was too big, too scary, too strange.
He wiped his palms on his shorts. He was stalling. His brothers had come to him. They wanted to meet him.
He blew out a deep breath and entered.
Though the massive stage lights weren’t on, the aluminum risers gleamed in the dimmer light of the general lighting. The scent he’d identified from the car was stronger here, and his other sides were nearly ecstatic with delight, especially his lion, who wasn’t a natural loner like his dragon.
He’d taken a moment in the car to look at his human face before turning back in case one of the carnies saw him. Five men who greatly resembled that face stood grouped on the floor in front of the curved stage.
They all studied each other for several seconds.
Finally, he stuffed his hands into his pockets and swept the whole group with his gaze. “Hi.”
The greeting seemed to act like a signal. His brothers surrounded him, all speaking at once, each one reaching out to make some contact. He had to force himself not to flinch or back away. As much as he craved connection with his family, he was lost about who or what to focus on first.
One of the brothers shoved forward and batted at the others. “Okay, okay! Let him breathe!” He planted his boots in the dirt and folded his arms. “I’m Kyle. Call me Ky.” He reached out a hand. Roan clasped it and gave it a shake. When he stepped back, Ky introduced each brother in turn, and he shook all their hands. A grin stretched his face, and he ducked his chin to hide it as he stepped back.
He didn’t have time to feel awkward, because he’d no sooner finished moving when Lu, Thalia, and Sofia bustled in, laden with pizzas and six-packs of beer.
One of his brothers—Ethan, maybe?—snagged a beer and helped himself to a slice fragrant with tangy sauce. “So fast. Thalia, you are a great witch!”
The brunette snorted. “It’s not magic, it’s DiGiorno. We started them when you got here. Thank Lu, she had a freezer full of them.”
A smattering of muffled, “Thanks, Lu!” sounded from the group.
Roan was starving and he quickly grabbed a slice for himself, juggling the first bite inside his mouth to keep from burning the roof. “Hot!”
Lu had finished dispensing her payload and came to stand near Roan.
Oregano, tangy tomato, and salty cheese burst on his taste buds. He regarded her gratefully over the slice. “It’s delicious.”
The redhead slung an arm around him. “Don’t get used to it.” She ran an appreciative eye over Roan’s brothers. “Turns out you are related to the Gunn brothers. I couldn’t believe it when those badasses walked in.” She groaned, “So much testosterone. It’s like I’m back in the army.” She steepled her hands into classic begging position. “You sure you don’t have any sisters?”
He swallowed the bite he was chewing and poked her with his elbow, happy for the diversion. “If I did, I wouldn’t introduce you.”
Lu winced playfully. “Harsh! And I shared my precious pizza stash with you.”
“But not your vodka, I see.”
She bumped him with her hip and sidled toward the exit. “A woman has to have her limits.”
The brothers fell into a companionable silence as they devoured the pizzas.
Roan took it all in with a gleeful sense of incredulity as he ate. It was hard to believe he was back with his family. He’d been around five when they’d been separated, and he had only vague impressions from those years, but snippets had begun to come back.
Fuzzy images of his mother rushed in. A redhead like Lu, he remembered her warmth and her scent, flowery and sweet.
Images of his father were even more hazy, but he thought he’d looked like an older version of Ky. Though not too much older, since chimeras aged very slowly after maturity.
Ky, he remembered the most. His oldest brother had been his hero, he’d tagged after him and their second oldest brother, Caleb like an imprinted duckling.
Ky wandered back over. Roan sensed his brother had been giving Roan time to process, but on the heels of his memories, he was eager to reconnect. He nodded at his brother and hastily disposed of the last of his slice.
Ky cleared his throat. “I see you’re still partially shifted.”
“Oh.” Roan focused for a second and flashed into his fully human form. “It was just so I wouldn’t raise questions with
the others.”
Ethan had joined them and nodded. “Good to see. I was stuck for a while myself.”
“Stuck?” one of the twins—Connor?—interjected, “More like the Invisible Man.”
Ethan grimaced and ran a hand over his whisker-length crew cut. The memory obviously wasn’t pleasant. “Yeah, being disembodied sucked.” He went on to explain how he’d shifted without knowing what he was while drunk and spent months thinking he’d died.
The others ribbed the former navy SEAL good-naturedly, calling him Caspar the friendly ghost and the like. Ethan poked right back, his wide grin declaring his contentment with his life since then, and his enjoyment of his brothers’ company.
Roan’s gaze bounced over his brothers’ happy faces, savoring the jokes and laughter coming from every side. If he’d had a fantasy about what it might be like to have a big, rowdy family, this would have matched it to a “T.”
When the laughter died down, Jake caught his eye and bobbed his head, letting his chin-length hair mask his expression, though a hint of gold peeked through the black strands, as if his lion was high. “Thalia thinks the Kincaid group took you? Kincaid had me for years.”
Roan’s chest was abruptly heavy with compassion. Whatever he’d endured, Jake had had it worse and for longer. “I was drugged most of the time,” Roan shared.
They compared timelines and it turned out they’d likely been held at the same time, although Jake’s captivity had spanned a larger chunk of time.
As they spoke, Con and Ty budged over, changing the topic with some story about their time in the Rangers, and the tension in Roan’s gut from talk about Jake and his mutual kidnappers gradually uncoiled again.
Though, it had been painful, the conversation between him and his youngest brother had further cemented his bond with his family.