Shifters After Dark Box Set

by S M Reine et al.

  A bemused smile crosses his face. “I can’t believe we only met yesterday,” he murmurs, brushing my hair away from my face.

  I know exactly what he means. It’s like we’ve been dating for months, and that sudden intimacy is unnerving. Because of the odd circumstances of our first meeting, I forgot to keep my guard up with Will, to keep my real self away from him like I usually do with guys. Now it’s hard to resist the very appealing thought that he’s actually starting to know me.

  Even if it can never be true.

  Of course, part of me is still uneasy about my realization the day before: that subconsciously, Mum’s bigotry has taken hold of my brain. Even the idea is so scary that I suddenly have to shut off my brain right now. I lean forward and press my lips to Will’s. This kiss is long and wondering, a tentative exploration rather than a push for something more.

  When we break apart, he strokes my face.

  “You are so beautiful,” Will says.

  I smile at him, luxuriating in the moment. But a shadow engulfs my thoughts. It’s hard not to compare this safe, mutually gratifying experience with Will to what Luke might be doing to Astrid.

  Will senses my sudden tension. He leans back so he can see my face properly. “Everything okay in there?” he whispers. I nod, but he doesn’t seem convinced. He reaches up to play with my hair, pulling a few strands away from my face so he can see my expression better. “No, it isn’t,” he says, his brow wrinkling as he studies me. “Where did you go?”

  I consider my options. I can try to blow it off, but I don’t want Will to think I’m having second thoughts about him. And I’m not allowed to tell him anything about the Old World. Anything. But maybe there’s a middle ground.

  “I have this problem,” I begin. “I’ve heard a rumor that this guy I know might be…hurting women. Well, one in particular. In an ongoing fashion.”

  “Assaulting her, you mean,” he says questioningly.

  I nod. Will takes that in for a moment, then asks, “What are you going to do?”

  “I’m not sure,” I admit. “The source is…unreliable.” It’s entirely possible that Mum knows more about what Luke has been doing and doesn’t want to scare me. On the other hand, it’s also possible that he’s innocent, and she wants me to be afraid of him for her own reasons.

  “You could tell the police,” Will offers.

  No, I definitely can’t, but it’s impossible to explain why, so I just say, “It hardly seems fair, if the person who told me turns out to be wrong.”

  Will’s eyes narrow. “Tell me you’re not thinking of doing some half-baked undercover thing where you try to get the guy to…” He waves his hand. “You know.”

  I sputter a laugh, though the thought of letting a werewolf touch me that way is more creepy than funny. “No, of course not. I’m worried, not stupid.”

  Will nods, relaxing. “Do you know this woman?” I nod again. “So go ask her,” he suggests. “If she confirms, but doesn’t want to come forward, you can call in an anonymous tip. Then the cops will start investigating the guy. And if she denies it—” he shrugs “—maybe the person who told you was wrong.”

  “I don’t know,” I say doubtfully. “Asking a potential rape victim if she was raped? That’s harsh. My gender studies professor would kill me.”

  “She can always refuse to tell you,” he argues. “Or say it’s none of your business. But at least we can try.”

  “We?” I ask, my heart lifting. “Who is this we?”

  He kisses me again, firm and certain. “I’m coming with you.”

  It’s sweet, but impossible. I can’t exactly ask Astrid if her alpha is raping her in front of a human, and if she does anything out of the ordinary, Will might start asking questions I can’t answer. He must see the misgivings on my face, because he adds, “I’ll stay in the car, Sashi, I promise. But I want to be nearby on the off chance the guy shows up.” His face hardens, and I remember, belatedly, that Will’s father was abusive. Shit. I shouldn’t have told him about Luke to begin with.

  Too late now. It makes things more complicated, but I’m also a little touched that he cares—not just about me, but about any woman who may have been victimized by a man. Also, I kind of don’t want to approach Astrid by myself, just in case Luke is around. I’m not a cop, or a private detective. I’m a witch, yeah, but for me that just means I can help sick people get well. Not the most useful specialty for dealing with a potentially unhinged werewolf.

  I throw together a fast plan: I’ll let Will drive me to see Astrid, but no matter what she says, I’ll tell Will the whole thing was a misunderstanding. Then I can figure out how to handle whatever she says within the rules of the Old World. I am not exactly sure what that means yet, but I can cross that bridge later.

  8. Sashi

  It’s much easier to find Astrid than I thought it would be. My mother has Luke’s number on a post-it in her office, and I call him while Will uses the bathroom, saying that Mum wants me to check on Astrid’s leg today. I know werewolves heal when they shift, but I tell Luke that Mum wants me to check anyway as part of my training. I make a point of sounding bored and a little irritated—just another day of jumping through my mother’s hoops. It helps that my timing is good: the day after the full moon is when the werewolves are at their most relaxed. Luke gives me Astrid’s address without a single follow-up question, sounding like he doesn’t give a shit what I do.

  Astrid lives in one side of a tiny, paint-starved duplex on the east side of Rochester, not far from Bear Creek. The yard is mostly dirt patches and weeds, and what little grass she has seems to be begging for water or a mercy kill. Will parks in the adjacent driveway and turns off the engine. “This might take awhile,” I warn him. “It’s totally okay if you want to take off. I know the bus system pretty—”

  He turns his head and kisses me, and I forget what I was saying. “I’ll be here,” he says simply.

  I grab the handle to open the truck door, but hesitate. “If you see a big guy coming up the driveway—” I tell Will, miming giant muscles “—just beep the horn, okay? Do not engage.”

  He nods impassively, but I don’t feel like I’ve conveyed the proper amount of warning. Werewolves are hyperstrong, and Luke could snap Will’s neck with a casual twist of his hand. I bite my lip, uncertain. “Seriously, it’s still possible that he’s done nothing wrong,” I point out.

  “I promise,” Will says, maybe a little bemused, “I’ll be cool.”

  There’s not much else I can do, so I hop up the front steps, holding the iron railing for balance. It leaves a rusty streak of dirt on my hand, which I wipe on my pants. Astrid must not get many visitors. The duplex has a closed screen door that looks new, but flimsy enough to fall off if I knock on it, so I ring the bell instead.

  Astrid opens the heavy front door a few seconds later, wearing tattered jeans and a black Led Zeppelin T-shirt that has been artfully ripped at the collar so it hangs off one shoulder. Her honey-colored pixie cut is mussed and a little greasy today, and there are thick circles of eyeliner around her lashes. When she recognizes me, she gives a tired, puzzled frown.

  “Sashi, right?” she says through the screen door. “What are you doing here?” She looks over my shoulder and sees Will in the car. He lifts his hand. “Is that your boyfriend?”

  “Just a friend,” I say, deciding it’s not the right time to put a label on our relationship. “He’s a founding, so he’ll stay in the car. But I was hoping you and I could talk for a minute. Are you alone?”

  “Uh, yeah….” She looks bewildered now, and a little suspicious, like I am Lucy offering to hold the football for Charlie Brown. After a moment of internal debate, she sighs and pushes open the screen door, which creaks loudly. I give Will a thumbs-up to show that Luke isn’t around, then follow Astrid into the house, leaving the heavy front door open behind me.

  Right away, it’s obvious that she hasn’t been in Rochester for long. There’s only about one piece of furniture per roo
m, and there are boxes stacked against various walls in sad pyramids of neglect. She leads me through the house into a kitchen, where four folding chairs are arranged around a card table. It looks so…temporary. Astrid takes the seat closest to the kitchen appliances, leaving me to pull back the chair across from her.

  “How long have you been in town?” I ask impulsively. Not at all what I came here for, but I am suddenly nervous.

  “Six months.” Astrid crosses her arms over her chest, looking…not sullen, exactly, but very skeptical and closed off, like she thinks I secretly came over to sell her a set of crappy steak knives.

  “You were…traded?” I question.

  Her eyes narrow. “My old pack included the guy who originally attacked and changed me. He rose to alpha, and suddenly decided he didn’t like having to see my angry face all the time. So he traded me away.”

  I don’t know how to respond to that, but she doesn’t give me time to, anyhow. “Why are you here, Sashi?” she says, cutting to the point.

  I should have devoted more time to planning how I would broach this subject. “I told Luke that my mum wants me to check on your leg,” I say.

  The careful wording does not escape Astrid’s attention, but she decides to call my bluff. Scooting her chair back with a screech, she lifts her right leg and moves it around a little. “See? Fine. Is that all?”

  “Astrid, I…” I swallow and start again. “I’ve been away at school, and I haven’t spent a lot of time in Rochester since I left. Yesterday was the first time I’ve seen Luke in more than two years, and he seemed really…different.”

  A look flits across her face, gone before I can interpret it. “And?”

  “And I wanted to know if you’re okay,” I say, trying to sound matter-of-fact.

  Astrid looks at me for a long moment, weighing my intentions. If it’s possible, her expression is even more carefully controlled than it was a few minutes ago. She abruptly flicks a dismissive hand in the air, startling me. “I’m fine,” she says indifferently. “I’m great. If that’s all, though, I should really start getting ready for work.”

  Shit. This isn’t working, and I suddenly feel like an idiot, coming here with all my middle-class idealism, thinking I’m going to…what? Help this woman somehow? Luke controls the Old World here, and we both know it.

  One more try, I tell myself. Then I’ll give up, go home, and go back to being insulated from the werewolf pack, the way my mum wants.

  But thinking of Mum gives me an idea. “I don’t know all that much about being in a pack, obviously,” I say, resting my hands flat on the table where Astrid can see them. “But I do know something about being created for a purpose, without being asked.”

  Her eyes meet mine, a little startled. I had her attention. “That thing I did to you yesterday, where I told your body to calm down?” I continue. “I was bred for that, quite literally. And now I feel trapped, because my mum has all these designs for my future. Her plans aren’t necessarily bad—they could even help a lot of people—but it’s not who I want to be.” I think of Will, waiting steadfast out in the truck. “Or who I want to be with.”

  Astrid is nodding imperceptibly, though I don’t even think she’s aware of it. I remember that making strong eye contact with a werewolf is like asking for a dominance battle. Slumping my shoulders, I look away and wait for her to speak.

  A full minute ticks by on my watch. I suddenly feel like an idiot. Astrid isn’t going to share her innermost secrets with me, a complete stranger. She has no reason to trust me. “I’m sorry I wasted your time,” I say, standing up. “I’ll leave you to…” I wave my hand helplessly. “Whatever you were doing.”

  I am already through the kitchen doorway when I hear her voice, a whisper so low it takes a second for me to process the words into meaning.

  “He comes here. Not every night, but most nights.”

  I turn around. Astrid is staring out the kitchen window, looking exhausted and defeated. I lean against the door frame, waiting for her to continue. “It wasn’t so often when I first moved here, but now…he’s getting too frustrated, too crazy. I fight him, and sometimes he gives up and leaves. Sometimes, though…” She shakes her head hard, like she’s trying to banish something. “If I lock the door, he breaks it down. If I’m not home, he waits. The longer he has to wait, the worse it is for me.”

  I go back and sit down at the same chair. “Can you leave?” I say, my voice quiet so I won’t spook her. “Another pack?”

  Astrid shakes her head. “If I leave his territory, I’ll be breaking the deal Luke made with my old pack. He’ll kill my old packmates.” Her face softens a little. “Some of them are really good people.”

  “If you stay, he might kill you,” I point out.

  Her hard eyes flicker back to mine. “I can take a lot of hurt,” she says bitterly. “It’s hard to kill a werewolf.”

  I lean back in my chair, thinking it over. “Why?” I wonder aloud. “Why is he doing it?”

  A bitter laugh. “You really don’t know much about werewolf magic, do you?” When I shake my head, she continues, “He’s hoping that fucking me will make our wolves bond, that his magic and mine will mate and the rest will just kind of follow.” One side of her mouth tilts up sardonically. “And the bitch of it is, it might work, if I were weaker. But my magic’s too strong. It leaves me too…independent.”

  She makes the word “independent” sound like a curse.

  Her eyes shift back to me, part defiance, part challenge. What are you gonna do about it?

  Fuck. Fuck fuckity fuck. I have my confirmation, but so what? I can’t help this woman. I’m just a goddamned thaumaturge witch, one who can barely handle working with sick kids. What the hell was I thinking?

  Astrid must be able to read these thoughts on my face, because the challenge leaves her eyes and she looks almost sympathetic. “I know,” she says softly. “You want to help, but he’s too strong. I understand, believe me. Every single female in the pack wishes she could help me, but Luke has them all terrified that he’ll move on to them instead.”

  “What’s going to happen?” I whisper.

  Astrid heaves a sigh. “I don’t know. Eventually we’ll reach a breaking point. Either I’ll finally convince him I’m not his mate, or he’ll kill me.” She smiles sadly. “You know, it’s funny; at this point I almost hope he succeeds in wooing my inner wolf. I actually want my magic to overtake my brain and convince me to be with an insane rapist. How crazy is that?”

  “I’ve heard worse,” I offer.

  Astrid shrugs. “Thanks for stopping by,” she says pointedly. Already, I can see the layers of self-protection beginning to lock back down on her face.

  I reach out and take her hand, surprising us both. “I can help with the pain, if you want,” I offer. “Call me anytime, okay?”

  We exchange numbers, and she promises to call if she needs me.

  Then I hear the beep of the truck horn. Astrid sees the horror on my face, and it doesn’t take long for her to put it together.

  “He’s here,” she whispers.

  9. Sashi

  It’s gotta be my fault. I asked Luke for Astrid’s address—I should have known he’d be curious enough to show up and verify my story. My thoughts race as I try to decide on a course of action. How do I explain being here with Will? “Do you have beer?” I blurt out. Without waiting for her answer, I rush to the fridge and open the door, pulling a Leinie’s out of the door. It’s a screw-top, thankfully, and I raise it to my lips for a quick gulp. Holding the bottle over the sink, I splash a few drops on my fingers and touch them to my shirt. Then I quickly dump the bottle, running the tap water over the drain as the beer washes down it. “Recycling?” I hiss at Astrid, who is staring off into space, her eyes glazed. “Astrid!” With a start, she points to a cupboard door, and I pull it open and toss the bottle in with a soft clink. Then I spin to face the doorway.

  But there’s no one there.

  Too much time has pa
ssed, with no sign of Luke. The screen door creaks, I remember. Why haven’t I heard it open yet?

  Will. Will is out there with Luke.

  I bolt through the house to the open front door, where I can see Luke leaning casually against the window of Will’s truck, his face a little too close to Will’s as they discuss something. Will nods, says something, and I feel a spurt of relief—he’s fine. With careful leisure, I open the screen door and stroll out to meet them.

  “Ah, there she is now,” Luke says, straightening up. When I am halfway to the truck, he takes a few strides forward and intercepts me, grabbing my elbow. “A word, little Sashi?” he says lightly, but his fingers clamp around my skin like an iron manacle. He pulls me back, away from Will, and pivots us so that his back is to the truck. There is a friendly smile on his face, but I know better than to trust it.

  “Sashi,” he begins in a low voice, still smiling, “did you actually bring a founding here?”

  I shrug, trying to look noncommittal. “I had a couple beers at lunch,” I mumble, hoping he can still smell it on me in the open air. “Then my stupid mum wanted me to drive over here to see a perfectly good leg, so…” I shrug, toying with a lock of my hair. “I got someone else to give me a ride.”

  Luke darts his head forward like he’s going to peck my cheek, making me flinch. Instead of going for my cheek, however, he takes a long sniff of the skin just below my ear. When he pulls back, there is a smug smile on his face, like he caught me cheating at checkers. “Yeah? Then why are you so afraid, little Sashi?” Luke asks condescendingly. “Could it be that you’re lying?”

  Shit. Werewolves can’t smell lies, exactly, but they can smell unease or fear, and sense when your pulse speeds up—which often amounts to the same thing. If I want to convince Luke I’m being truthful, I have to give him another explanation for my physiological reaction.