Shifters After Dark Box Set

by S M Reine et al.

  I tossed my lipstick on the counter. “Well, so much for that,” I murmured.

  Now that Naya was in the mix, there was no point in—wait, what was I even doing? Once again, reverting to my sixteen-year-old self and trying to hit on my brother’s best friend. That’s what.

  If Naya wants him, she can have him.

  I swung the door open and they were standing in the middle of my living room. Austin held a heavy bag under each arm as if they weighed nothing. Naya had on her favorite black heels with ribbons tied around her ankles several times. All you saw were legs that went up to a pair of tight black shorts. Her red blouse was a favorite—the shredded material looked like a yeti had tried to make out with her.

  “Naya, this is Austin Cole. He’s an old friend who just got back in town and we’re doing some catching up. Austin, this is Naya, my good friend and neighbor. She also makes some really kickass baklava.”

  “Yes,” Naya confessed, “I love to cook. Do you love to eat?” she asked, sliding a glance my way. “I think we should have him for dinner tonight. You two can talk and that’ll give me plenty of time to whip up something delicious. I know just the thing a man like you needs.”

  Naya had her kitten motor on purr. Men responded to it without a doubt. She was testing the waters to see if I’d react, which I didn’t, thus giving her full permission to pursue. We had an unspoken agreement about that kind of thing.

  Austin’s eyes were fixated on my shirt. “Are they still around?”

  For a second, I thought he was talking about my breasts and I looked down to see if I still had them. Then I noticed the logo on my shirt.

  “Yeah, believe it or not, they’re still in business.”

  A nostalgic grin slid up his face.

  The Pit was the best barbecue joint in town. At one time, it was a popular hangout for the teens. I’d go with my friends, or sometimes tag along with Wes. Their food was great, and it had become a place where we congregated to talk about school, guys, concerts, and stuff that didn’t matter. So many memories were tied to that place and I hadn’t gone back in all these years. We used to tear the ends of the straws and blow the long wrappers across the room. The owner must have hated us.

  “Let me take those,” I said, reaching for one of the bundles of laundry.

  He swung away. “I got it. Where do you want them?”

  I wrapped my arm around a large bag and he swiveled away. “You act like I don’t know how to handle something that big, Austin. Just give it to me!”

  “Now that’s what I like to hear,” Naya said with a wink, and the door closed behind her.

  “Your bedroom or right here?”

  His question startled me and I let go. Austin paced into my messy bedroom with the laundry. “I’m not folding your clothes,” he said with a chuckle. He dropped the bags on the floor beside the closet and glanced around with inquisitive eyes.

  He was curious about my life. I saw it in the subtle way he scoped everything out, from the pictures on my walls to the comedy movies on my shelves.

  “Why don’t I get us a drink,” I offered, disappearing into the kitchen. I could see him over the bar and he was looking at the back door that led to my balcony. “You want a beer? I don’t have your favorite, or at least, what you used to like.”

  “Sounds good.”

  This conversion was going to require more than a beer. It was too early in the day to get lit, so I pulled out two bottles and set them on the rectangular table in my quaint little dining room.

  Austin had his back to me, still shirtless.

  I quickly dove into the bedroom and fished out one of Beckett’s shirts from a bottom drawer. There was no way I was going to be able to carry on a conversation while staring at his six-pack.

  “Here,” I said, tossing him the shirt.

  He caught it and sharpened his eyes. “Whose shirt is this?”

  “My ex’s.”

  His fists tightened around the red material but his voice stayed smooth and relaxed. “How much of an ex is he?”

  “What is that supposed to mean?”

  He lifted the shirt. “You’re still keeping around a spare set of his clothes. You tell me.”

  I sat down and took a swig of beer. “He had sex in my car with another woman. I’m not a forgive-and-forget kind of girl. I just forgot I still had it in there.”

  “You just said you didn’t forget.”

  I turned my mouth to the side and drummed my fingers on the bottle. “I can forget a T-shirt pretty easily. I can’t forget my ex getting ridden like a mechanical bull in the back of my Toyota.”

  Austin suddenly ripped the shirt in half and the sound of the material tearing made me jump.

  He calmly walked into the kitchen, dropped the shirt into the trash can, and returned to his seat across the table. Then he casually drank his beer as if nothing weird had just transpired with him going Hulk and shredding my former lover’s favorite “I’m an idiot” shirt.

  The bubbles in my empty stomach were already working their alcoholic magic. “So tell me what happened to Wes. Don’t dance around the truth, Austin. I’ve invited you here and I want you to be straight with me.”

  Austin sipped his beer and grimaced, setting the bottle in the middle of the table.

  “I’m a Shifter,” he said.

  “Shifter,” I repeated blandly. “You move around? What does that mean?”

  “Shapeshifter.”

  My shoulders sagged. “I don’t have time for jokes.”

  He didn’t break eye contact and those pale blue eyes polished me off like a dog licking his bowl clean. “There’s another world that exists that would surprise the hell out of you. Wes knew what I was.”

  I sighed angrily. “Don’t drag Wes into your pathological—”

  “Lexi,” he said in a hard voice, “I’m a Shifter.”

  My eyes narrowed. “Then turn yourself into a zebra.”

  He slowly shook his head and rubbed his jaw. “My animal hasn’t met you; I don’t trust him alone in your presence just yet.”

  I threw my head back and slapped the palms of my hands on the table. “Oh my God. You’re kidding me! All these years I’ve wondered what happened to you and if you were even alive. I’m such a fucking idiot. Now you show up out of nowhere and the only thing you have to tell me is you’re a werewolf?”

  “Shifter,” he corrected with a suppressed grin.

  ~ ~ ~

  Austin didn’t back down. He was convinced he was some kind of a paranormal but assured me he wasn’t a werewolf because they didn’t exist and the moon had no effect on him. His revelation also came with a warning label: those who knew about their secret were entrusted not to reveal it to the human world. There were consequences, and I really didn’t want to ask what those were. He made me promise I wouldn’t tell a soul. I didn’t have a problem with that.

  I was never a fan of padded walls.

  There were breaks in our conversation when I’d walk off to do the dishes, leaving him alone so I could allow the facts to settle in my brain. It was a lot to digest in one day, particularly after spending an hour in a tree. He went out on the balcony a few times to make phone calls, and I finally collapsed on the sofa and flipped through the TV channels. A tapestry of light blanketed the room, fading to nothingness as darkness dominated the sky.

  Then my idiot neighbors cranked on their stereo. Austin flew in through the back door and sat in the chair beside me, rubbing his hand across his bare chest. “You should move into a house and get away from this lifestyle—too many drifters coming in and out of this place. It’s not safe.”

  There he went again, talking about safe. Although I couldn’t deny it was nice to hear someone showing concern about my safety. As much as I wanted to roll my eyes, feeling protected by a man was an undeniable soft spot with me.

  A knock—or more precisely, a shoe—tapped on the door. “Lexi, darling, open up. Dinner is served!”

  “I’ll get it,” Austin said wi
th a hint of curiosity in his tone.

  From my lying-down position, I couldn’t see over the back of the couch when Naya came in and started her kitten purr. It was a cute little growl she put at the end of her laugh that was just as provocative as her figure.

  “It’s nice and hot, so if you two want to eat now, it’s ready. Lexi, would you mind opening a bottle of wine?”

  I peered over the edge of the sofa. Naya was dressed in a black skirt with a slit all the way up to her thigh, although it looked more like it went to her appendix. Her blouse was fashioned the same way, with a slit that stretched all the way down to her navel, probably held together by a single thread made from the cheapest material in Taiwan. One snap and boobage would kick this dinner from low to medium-high. She offered him a full-lipped smile, staring at his bare chest and looking as if she had plans to feast on something other than what she brought over for dinner.

  Go, Naya.

  I sat up, patting down my tangled hair. Austin was open game and I had no interest in exploring those old feelings all over again. People say time machines don’t exist, but they do. They’re your friends, and being around them takes you right back to that place in time you had long since put away.

  “I’ll set the table. Mmm, smells good. What is it?”

  Naya proudly held up the foil-covered dish. “Chicken spaghetti.”

  I almost snorted. For some reason, I had expected her to pull a fiesta out of her hat, but chicken spaghetti required very little preparation and involved a couple of cans of soup. My guess was that Naya had spent the better part of her afternoon giving herself a wax and shine.

  “I’m starving,” I declared.

  “Let me get the candles,” she said, digging in one of my drawers.

  I grabbed a few wine glasses and hesitated. Did she want me to leave them alone? Naya dimmed the lights and a flick of a lighter sounded. As I poured the wine in my narrow kitchen, Austin brushed up against my back.

  Tiny little hairs stood up on my neck when he leaned against me, reaching in the cabinet overhead and pulling out the plates.

  “I’ll get these,” he said in a rough, sexy voice.

  And there it was. Something I was totally not expecting when he lightly pressed his body against mine.

  Tingles.

  “Where are your forks and knives?” he murmured.

  “Drawer on the right,” I said in an embarrassingly breathy way. “But I can get them. Go sit down.”

  He ignored me, taking everything into the dining room. I snatched the glasses and followed behind.

  Naya was setting the table and using her spoon to dish out the food. “So tell me about yourself, Austin. Where are you from? What do you do for a living?”

  I bit my lip and set the glasses on the table. Austin stood behind his chair and Naya sat down across from me, placing one of the candles in the middle. She did the infamous stretch that usually gave men a good whiff of her heavenly perfume and sometimes a peek through the opening of her blouse.

  “I’m an investigator. I’m originally from around here, but I’ve been traveling for the past few years as part of my job. Decided I missed home and it was time for a change.” His eyes dragged over to mine and I continued arranging the silverware beside the plates.

  “Have a seat, Austin,” I said. “Shit—I mean shoot. I forgot the napkins. Be right back.”

  “I work as a dancer, but it’s just a temporary thing until I find something better,” Naya went on. “I know exactly where you’re coming from. We all want something better for ourselves. Is your family here with you?”

  “My brothers are here.”

  “Not married?”

  I almost cringed as I grabbed a stack of paper napkins from the kitchen and returned. Austin was still standing beside the table. When I sat down and took a sip of wine, he pulled back his chair and relaxed in his seat. The legs creaked as he settled.

  Austin stared at my finger as it tapped repeatedly against the wood table. If he remembered anything about me, he knew I was a finger-tapper whenever something was irritating me. On a table, on a wall, on my leg, on a keyboard—didn’t matter.

  It was just my thing.

  Naya and I had grown used to the music blaring from the neighbor’s apartment, but with company over, it was embarrassing. Apparently, the cop hadn’t put enough of a scare into them, so we sat there listening to the Who singing about a teenage wasteland.

  “Naya, you left your phone over here last night,” I said conversationally.

  Relief washed over her lovely face. “Oh, thank God. I was looking everywhere for it this morning. I get so many important calls and half of them don’t leave messages. That’s my biggest peeve.”

  “Naya doesn’t have a home phone,” I pointed out.

  She shook her head and savored a small sip of Merlot. “Who needs a home phone? You don’t even have a cell phone. Get with the times, girl. Where did you put it?”

  “On the bar next to the deck of cards,” I said, pointing over my shoulder. “Hope you don’t mind that I used it.”

  Lucky for me it didn’t break when I threw it earlier, thanks to the lawnmower man who hadn’t cut the grass in over a month.

  “Damn, Naya, this is really good.” I took a second bite of creamy noodles and made an approving moan. Only Naya could whip up something decadent from a can of soup. “Naya’s a great cook,” I said to Austin, giving her a few brownie points with him. “If you ever taste her lobster, you’ll probably want to make babies with her.”

  “Lexi,” Naya said with a giggle.

  Austin twirled his pasta but didn’t take a single bite of it. That was his pissed-off look. I’d seen it plenty of times. He’d given it to a guy who called me a hot piece of ass when I was seventeen and walking out of a convenience store. Austin had left me in the car with my Popsicle while he and Wes got out, locked the doors, and yanked that redneck out of his green Ford pickup truck. They dragged him around the side of the building and when they returned, Wes had a bloody lip and Austin’s knuckles were bruised.

  “Don’t you like it?” Naya asked.

  The fork clicked against the plate and Austin stood up. “I’ll be right back.”

  “Where are you going?”

  He lowered his chin. “Stay here.”

  When he left the apartment, Naya finished her wine. “He’s a beast of a man, Lexi. This is your old friend? Hot tamale, girly. You’ve been holding out on me. Any feelings still there?”

  “I don’t even know him anymore,” I said with a pitiful sigh.

  “Can I get to know him?” She lifted her hands defensively and laughed. “If you want him, Lexi, just say the word and I’ll take my dinner and go.”

  “Nah. He’s practically family.”

  “I thought you liked big, strong men?”

  “Beckett was the exception. I don’t usually go for all the roughnecks,” I lied. Well, at least not all the time. “Remember Lance, the guy who worked at the coffee shop?”

  “The painter?” she said with disdain. “Come on, Lexi. Aspire to something greater.”

  “Muscles don’t make the man.”

  “True, darling, but they give you something nice to hold on to,” she said.

  “I just can’t be with a guy who worships his body more than mine.”

  Naya raised her hand for a high five and we laughed.

  Which abruptly stopped when the silence became deafening.

  “The music cut off,” she said, stating the obvious.

  I swiveled around to look at the clock. “That’s a first. It’s not even close to midnight.”

  Naya chewed on a bite of spaghetti and froze when the heavy sound of footsteps came up the stairs. Naya got nervy about unlocked doors. We knew it was probably Austin, but when the knob turned, her eyes went wide.

  But it was him.

  Austin gave us a demonstration of swagger as he crossed the room to claim his chair. Naya did a little finger swirl around the rim of her glass. She m
ust have been used to crystal, because mine was made of glass and barely made a squeak.

  “You forgot to lock the door,” Naya pointed out.

  Austin scooped a giant forkful of pasta into his mouth. “When I’m here, you don’t need a lock.”

  His chiseled jaw worked hard, making Naya crumble like a cookie at the sight of a handsome man devouring her food. Austin was better looking than he’d ever been in his youth, even if it was mixed with a tough exterior like a street fighter looking for action.

  “Did you confront my neighbors?”

  After chewing his last bite, he put his tanned forearms on the table and leaned in, nodding with an arched brow. “I wouldn’t worry about them. Just a couple of college kids with a bong, some kind of black light, and all these posters and shit of Led Zeppelin and—”

  I burst out laughing and when a snort escaped, I covered my face. The laughter couldn’t be contained any longer. On top of this crazy day of getting chased by a dog, sitting in a tree in a cemetery, having my best friend hit on my old flame—who by the way was in town to tell me he was a bounty hunter and shapeshifter—there sat Austin, pointing out how weird my downstairs neighbors were.

  “God, I love her laugh,” he said to Naya, licking the prongs of his fork. “When she really gets going, she sounds like Beaker from The Muppet Show.”

  Which made an embarrassing sound escape my throat. I waved my arm to get up and knocked over his glass of wine. Naya flew out of her seat and covered her mouth.

  That sucked all the humor out of the moment. So much for sophistication at twenty-seven. I stood up and sighed.

  “I’m sorry, Naya. It’s been a long day and I’ve had more to drink than eat. Let me get something to clean up the mess.”

  “How about the shirt in your trash can?” Austin suggested.

  Chapter Eight

  The next day, I felt sick as a dog. It was probably a combination of the alcohol from the night before and everything else going on that made my head spin and stomach churn.

  Thankfully the shop wasn’t busy, and April kept the customers happy while I worked in the back, wrapping up gift orders. During the downtime, I’d sit outside in the sunshine on the wooden bench, listening to music until a customer wandered into the shop. It was slow on weekdays, which is why we desperately needed new ways to attract customers.