Bad, Very Bad Shifters- The Complete Mega Bundle

by Daniella Wright

  The sound of slow clapping brought her out of her reverie. Ward sat on an upholstered stool, looking comfortable. Today he wore a different pair of leather leggings, these with thick gauntlets over the shins on the outside. He was barefoot, which seemed oddly erotic in the close space. His chest was bare but for the thin protective bands that hugged his ribcage and belly.

  He was so fucking beautiful. He was unwelcome.

  As his eyes met hers she realized she was standing before him soaked, her white uniform hiding nothing. She was in his house, under his rule, doing what pretty much amounted to naked gymnastics. She felt the blush creep up her neck into her cheeks. He'd warned her never to get comfortable.

  "I was about to tell you the tank water has healing properties, but I see you've figured that out for yourself," he broke the silence.

  "Are you here to insist we fight in a new environment? Want to knock me down a couple more times?" she spat.

  "Actually I was here to tell you that you missed breakfast," he said, waving at a new plate on the side table.

  "Why didn’t the woman with the missing hand bring it up?" she asked.

  "Too afraid you were dead. I guess you didn't look so good when we were through yesterday," he quipped, guiltless.

  "Well, I'm not," she said, taking herself over to the plate. She was famished. The handful of food from the night before hadn't soothed her hunger. She popped a round, fleshy fruit into her mouth. It burst on her tongue in a rush of unfamiliar sweetness.

  "Yes, I see that. You've found the food. Dry clothes are in the locker over there. The washroom is next to this room, which will be yours for your stay, on the left. I'll be waiting in the atrium. Don't keep me there too long," he said.

  "I don't give a damn if you wait all day," she insisted, her anger close to the surface. She didn't know why, but his very presence seemed to bring it out.

  He was off his stool in a blink, his hands punishing on her shoulders.

  "You want to live you hurry your sweet little ass into dry clothes and out the door. You obey me," he ordered.

  She reacted to that simmering anger, pushing her head forward and headbutting him in the nose. It crunched under the force, and her heart leapt in victory. What the hell was happening to her, the girl who'd always done her best to cool tempers and avoid arguments?

  He let her go, walked to the tank, and splashed some of it's shimmering water onto his broken nose. Before he walked away he said, "You keep surprising me."

  "So do you," she answered with an unfamiliar swagger in her voice, "I had no idea you thought I had a sweet ass."

  She read his body language perfectly. He clenched his fists, the veins in his neck stood out for a moment, and then it all receded into a controlled calm. She got under his skin just as much as he got under hers. Reciprocation, what a nice thing.

  Despite her bluster, Valentina ate, dressed, and met him in the atrium. There was really nothing else to do. She kept her muscles bunched, prepared for him to attack right away. Instead he stood calmly in the center, watching as she approached. She looked up at the balconies and around the perimeter of the room for surprises. Nothing jumped out at her. What fresh hell was he planning?

  "Listen," he said in the most modulated voice she'd heard from him, "I've made a decision."

  She cocked her head at him, curious but still distrustful.

  "I need to be able to teach you, to measure your understanding of fighting styles and defensive strategies. I can't do that if we're constantly at one another's throats. I'm willing to cool it if you are," he said.

  She studied him for a minute. He didn't look as graceful and at ease as he had before. He was offering her an olive branch, and it was something he apparently didn't do often or well.

  "I want to live," she said, nodding her compliance.

  "I want that too," he said.

  That agreement, made so awkwardly, certainly helped the second day of training go more smoothly. Valentina no longer feared that he was trying to kill her. They didn't exactly work well together, both sometimes devolving into raised voices and growled expletives, but they managed to end the hand to hand combat part of the lesson without much bloodshed. It was a step up.

  The second half of the day was spent trying different weapon styles. She was initially drawn to the sweeping rapier style blade that Ward had. However, it was much more advantageous in thought than it was in practice. In order to execute any of her aerobatics, she had to put the sword down. Ward shook his head. A second of being weaponless was the second a combatant died. Next they tried throwing star type weapons, but Valentina's aim and form was abysmal. Ward said neither he nor anyone he could hire would be able to fix that much bad in so little time.

  The last weapon they tried was the two sharp, glove like kataras. They were esentially short swords that strapped to Valentina's knuckles. They gave her freedom to move and use her hands without becoming defenseless.

  "I like them," Valentina had said, busy cutting at small sandbags the silent brute and one handed woman were chucking at her.

  "It'll do," Ward said, his eyes watching her every move.

  "Play to your strengths!" Ward bellowed as Valentina ran headlong from the brute, brandishing the same shield at her he had used while facing off against Ward.

  It was her last day of training before her first fight and her first real duel. She'd spent the opening ten minutes of the fight running from the unspeaking man, having found no openings to attack. She was breathing hard and covered in sweat despite the week she'd spent training from morning until night. Her opponent, a mainstay in the house, looked no worse for the wear.

  He came closer, testing her by swing the shield in her direction. It passed just a hair away from her, and she used the sweep to cut along his arm above the back of his elbow. He used his following free hand to grab her by her shoulder strap and fling her into the center of the atrium.

  She rolled quickly to her feet, one katara held before her and one hanging, ready. He barreled toward her and she went low, kicking at his knees. The force wasn't enough to bring him down, but he stumbled. She thought she had a second to right herself, but he easily turned the stumbled into a turn, catching her with the shield. Her collarbone pulsated under the new bruise that blossomed.

  She backed up. He pressed. When she read from his body language that he was going to take another running pass she crept even closer to one of the columns, turning her lips down in a scared looking scowl. He sensed her fear and rushed her. She waited, waited until she could see his dilated pupils, and then leapt up the column, her legs taking her a few feet up. She somersaulted higher, coming out of the leap with her katara pressed to his jugular. A bead, perfect and rosy, formed on the sharp end that kissed his skin.

  "That enough!" Ward shouted, ending the fight.

  It took Valentina, her adrenaline spiked, a moment to obey the command. Ward crossed the sand, gently pulling at her elbow. She gave in, slowly coming back to herself.

  Ward looked at the silent man, assessing him carefully.

  "Are you okay?" he asked, his eyes on the brute's. Ever silent, the other man nodded.

  "Make sure you get in a tank," Ward said.

  The other man smiled and Ward rolled his eyes.

  "Just do it you hard headed mongrel," Ward nagged, and Valentina was surprised at his tone. He didn’t seem overbearing or angry. He seemed concerned for the man.

  "If he's allowed to use the tank, why haven't his scars healed?" Valentina asked, making sure the silent strongman was out of hearing distance.

  Ward sighed, a sound she'd never heard from him before. He stared at the door the man had used to exit and then tore his eyes away. He began to wind his whip over this shoulder, a nightly habit of his she'd noticed.

  "The tank is great for healing fresh or small injuries quickly. There are limits though, things it just can't heal. If, for example, you take a dagger through the eyeball the tank will do nothing but give you a floating corpse free of sc
abs," he explained.

  "Okay, so tomorrow I'll try not to take any daggers through the eye," she said, trying to lighten the mood and unsure what to say. She'd wondered if Ward beat his servants, though after that exchange she now doubted that assumption. She obviously, she decided, didn’t have the pulse of the dynamic between those two.

  Ward met her eyes with his own, his gaze hard and intense. He was unreadable sometimes and that bothered her.

  "That would be best, yes," with that he exited the atrium, leaving her alone on the sands.

  "Remember what we practiced," Ward said, more emotion in his voice than Valentina had heard before. What emotion she couldn't nail down. Anticipation her fight was next? Irritation she hadn't mastered all of the skills he'd shown her? Fear his investment was about to go down the toilet? She couldn't tell.

  "Yes," she agreed, too nervous to talk much.

  She kept shaking her hands at her sides, keeping her blood moving. The roar of the crowds kept washing over her, thousands of voices merging into one blood thirsty song.

  She'd been at the arena for about an hour, and had been able to peek in at the pit. It was round in shape, about four times bigger than the atrium she'd been practicing in, and ringed by levels of seats filled with screaming spectators. The silent domestic woman had traveled with them but quickly disappeared once they got to the arena.

  "Breath," Ward reminded her, and only then did she realize she'd been holding her breath. Nerves. Her stomach made her wonder if she should find a quiet corner to puke in before she got started. Puking in front of Ward, while not at all appealing, was better than losing it in front of the crowd. All of them were shifters. All of them could smell fear.

  "What did we talk about with shifting?" Ward questioned her, the nervous teacher in him coming forward.

  "Don't shift unless I have to. Don't let them know that I can quick shift. Shift only if the opponent shifts into a form I cannot defeat with the katara," she repeated in a monotone, starting to jump on the balls of her feet.

  The roaring of the crowd grew in strength, a sign that the bout before hers was coming to an end. Someone had been stabbed, had been struck, had been wounded s badly it seemed as if death was guaranteed. Valentina really didn't want that to be her.

  Before she knew it the alarm was sounding, letting her know the combatant's east side door, the one that loomed before her, was going to open. Ward stood to the side, out of sight of the crowd but there with her. She was grateful he'd stayed. He didn't have to. Her necklace was fixed with the arena coordinates. She couldn't go anywhere if she wanted to.

  Ward's female servant came whipping around the corner, aiming straight for Ward at a near run. Valentina watched, interested but also disconnected from the happenings around her. Half of her was already in the pit, already prepared to face down an opponent. Her focus was there, not on the servant's bent head hurriedly whispering into Ward's ear. So they could talk.

  Ward's face drained of color, his lips becoming a straight, hard edge. Something was wrong. That, his worried look, pulled Valentina's thoughts from the pit.

  "What is it?" she asked, a spike of nerves further turning her gut.

  "Your competitor..." he started but was caught off as the door in front of her opened to release the sounds of the raucous crowd. Across the arena she could see the west side door sliding open as well.

  She took her first step onto the sands, noting that in the middle the ground was stained with rusty colored blood from the previous bout. Someone had died there.

  "Valentina!" Ward called and she turned, reacting to the sound of his tense voice.

  He reached an arm through the door, pulling her quickly over to his side. She opened her mouth to ask what he wanted, what she needed to hear before she stepped onto the sand with her life in her hands. He didn't say anything. He slammed her lips with an unexpected powerful kiss, a kiss that traveled down every nerve in Valentina's overly aware body. She could feel his hot body pressing against her every limb, as if with this kiss he was making an imprint of her on his skin. She could feel his teeth at her lips, nipping and licking in a carnal rhythm.

  Damn. She liked it. It lit her up from the inside, making her suddenly aware of where her breasts and mound connected with his unforgiving form. He who not long ago had been the bane of her existence, challenging her every step, suddenly was the hot velvet on her lips, the air in her lungs. She realized as his mouth dragged her under that she'd been waiting for and wanting this.

  She heard a primeval yell come from the pit, a sign her opponent was looking for her. She managed to step away from Ward but the separation hurt. She had to come back to him. She had to finish what he'd started when he'd fused their mouths. She had to live past this fight, and then she was going to insist he show her how he felt inside her.

  Valentina ran through the door, her eyes seeking her adversary. What she saw before her stopped her in her tracks. She'd been prepared for so much, but this was beyond her imagining.

  Before her was a gorgon. The woman was made of nothing but spiky teeth and snake hair. Apparently, Valentina mused, the storytellers of old had gotten their inspiration from creatures such as this. Valentina didn't know if she could safely look the creature in the eye or not. She wasn't going to take any chances. She'd have to rely on her peripheral vision and her newly expanded hearing.

  This was not the way she'd wanted to go into the fight.

  The two circled each other, the snake woman lunging back and forth, Valentina keeping her head down, to the many boos of the crowd. They were looking for blood. Valentina and the gorgon were taking too long.

  Valentina was the first to strike, fainting to the left and then directing her right arm in a quick downward slice. The gorgon blocked with her greatsword, turning it so Valentina's katar slipped off the edge. The gorgon used Valentina's indirect gaze to her advantage. She moved the sword out of Valentina's line of sight. As Valentina turned to find the weapon the gorgon dug its point into Valentina's back, the tip slipping in at least an inch.

  Valentina howled and the crowd answered, pleased to see some action. Valentina carefully moved off the sword, stretching to keep her back limber. The minute that wound tightened up the fight would be over. Valentina had to get her sight back.

  She dodged into a roll as the gorgon swept the large sword at her head. The roll was effective but the sand in her open wound stung. That gave Valentina the idea.

  She waited, staying low, as the gorgon turned back around and plodded toward her. The beast raised the two handed sword up, ready to make a killing blow. As the sword started to swing down, the gorgon's eyes on Valentina's crouched, injured form, Valentina sprang up and stepped inside her guard. Valentina threw two fistfuls of sand into the creature's eyes, and kicked her back with a booted foot to the hissing woman's armored chest.

  Valentina risked looking into the gorgon's face, and was pleased when she didn't turn to stone. The creature couldn't keep her eyes open under the onslaught of the particles on her eyes.

  Valentina ended the bout with a clean kill, making the end fast.

  The crowd bellowed its surprise and approval, and Valentina careened back toward the same door she'd come from. Ward caught her under the arms just as she sagged, her knees giving out.

  He held her hair back as she slumped over and finally emptied her stomach. She'd won. She'd killed. The day was over.

  Valentina floated in her room, awake and fighting the memories of the day.

  She didn't hear when Ward came in, but somehow she wasn't surprised to see him standing there, tall and unbending as ever, over the rim of her vat. She blinked up at him, some of the numbness fading.

  She realized his mouth was moving and sat up in order to hear him. She could tell he was making an effort to make eye contact with her and only remember then that she'd stripped off her blood soaked clothes before submerging. Her nipples pebbled at the realization.

  "You won," he said, his deep voice soft in the half gloom.


  "I did. I feel...numb," she told him, confessing.

  "You're alive. You're here. That's all that matters, especially when you shouldn't be," he told her, leaning in toward her.

  "What do you mean?" she asked. Had he thought she would lose?

  "That thing you fought today was a being with secondary capabilities, much like the beings that first took you in for the change were. They are usually barred from fighting in the arena due to their unfair advantages. Something is off. What happened today should have never happened," he explained.

  "Is that what the quiet girl whispered to you in the arena," she asked, thinking it over.

  "Yes," he answered.

  "Before you kissed me," she went on, knowing exactly where she wanted this to lead, knowing what action would certainly make her feel less numb.

  "Yes," Ward said, quirking an eyebrow up at her.

  "I think you should do it again," she said, leaning over the edge of the tub.

  Before she knew what happened, quicker than her eyes would allow, Ward was sliding along next to her in the vat, his clothes soaked in the healing water. He pushed her easily on her back, and she didn't fight him. She remembered the shared heat of that kiss before her bout, the way that his body had fit against hers like it belonged there. She'd fantasized about this for so long.

  His lips closed over hers, his rough stubble bringing her skin alive. His hand started on her knee, travelling in a slow, aching crawl up toward her mound.

  "I've wanted this since I first laid eyes on you," he whispered it like a benediction, a confession, "before I even saw you change. You were so small on that table, so full of fight. When you started to flatline I panicked. I had to bring you back. I had to have you. You infuriate me."

  She laughed at that, a throaty laugh that she barely recognized as her own. He infuriated her too, clouded her thoughts, teased her with his mix of violence and warmth. The attraction to him she felt was undeniable and animal. It was time to give in.