Whisper in the Dark

by Charlene Perry

  That’s the moment my panties catch on fire. Or melt. I’m not sure what’s happening down there, but it’s really fucking warm.

  Gideon. The name is on my tongue instantly, but I keep my mouth closed. This man is a legend. The top of the top. Highest ranked of the highest Protector rank. An Elite. I don’t even know why he would be down in Moridian. The Enforcers and Agents work here at ground level. Elites are stationed on the Solars; airborne mega-cities for the wealthy and powerful.

  I take a glance around to see if his Shifter is nearby, but I don’t see any sign of him. That beauty is just as much of a legend as his Elite. Most Shifters can only shift into other mammals, though some learn to take on reptilian or avian forms. A very rare few, like Tarek, can take the form of mythical or imagined creatures. He’s usually in the form of a massive, green dragon.

  I’ve only seen pictures, but imagining this gorgeous specimen of a man riding a dragon is almost as orgasmic as imagining him riding me. Not that I’m imagining either of those things. I’m most definitely imagining me riding him. Yes, that is definitely the way I want this to go.

  I’m still deep into this fantasy when I realize he’s a whole lot closer, and his hand is extended in a much more formal greeting than he gave me in my mind.

  Settling for G rated, I take his hand and shake. His big palm dwarfs mine, and I let my eyes move up along the thick arm that’s attached to it. He’s dressed for business, not combat, and his loose button-up shirt doesn’t reveal as much as I’d like. Wide shoulders, a chiseled jaw. Clean cut, yet rugged. This guy is all the clichés.

  His neck holds my attention the longest. The trail of implant tats stretches from his hairline to his collarbone. I recognize Medic and Link, and there’s also Stim, which gives a wicked boost to strength and speed. I see Blender, Comm, O2, VRC, and two others I don’t even recognize.

  No LMW though... I guess the guy likes to get undressed the old-fashioned way. Okay, so that one’s more for putting clothes on, but I much prefer the mental image of him taking them off.

  My eyes finally make their way up to his, and I’m immediately taken aback. His pale green gaze is locked on mine. He’s not looking at my boobs, or at my mouth. He’s not even giving me a wanna-see-me-naked side eye. I school my raging libido immediately. This man addressed me formally, shook my hand, and now he’s looking at me like I’m a fellow Protector.

  “Elite Gideon. It’s an honor.” I address him with the same respect, letting my hand drop back to my side.

  “The honor’s all mine.” A swoon-worthy smile lights up his features. Literally. I might swoon. “I’ve heard impressive things about your win rates. If you ever think about trying for the Elite program, feel free to throw my name out there.”

  I open my mouth to respond, but I honestly have no words. He says something else, then turns and heads through the glass doors. Did I just get an offer from an Elite? The Elite?

  “Damon...”

  Put it back in your pants.

  Now it’s my turn to growl at him, though I’m admittedly not very good at it. He has a point though. As encouraging as that was, a man is a man. He might have a little, okay, a lot more class than the dicks I’m used to dealing with. But he’s still a man. The moment I start throwing his name around as some kind of reference, that’s the moment I’d owe him.

  “Don’t worry,” I assure him as we head down the road, him in the bed with his big head through the cab window. “We’ll get there on our own. We don’t need him.”

  I’m rewarded with a calming purr, and I tilt my head to the side to lean against his cheek.

  Home

  I gulp in deep breaths of air, gasping as I claw at hands that aren’t there. As reality cuts through the haze of the dream, I feel the warm comfort of Damon’s body against mine. He usually sleeps draped across the foot of my bed, forcing me into the fetal position to make room. Whenever my nightmares strike, I wake to find him stretched out along my side, his soft mouth against my ear as he purrs me back to life.

  Fortunately, the dreams are always forgotten the moment I wake. If they’re half as dark as my memories, I’m more than happy to leave them buried in my subconscious. I’ve got nothing to fear in this house. One ‘perk’ of being an Agent is that you get to be on a lot of people’s hit-lists. The department foots the bill to have our houses coated in an invisible nano-barrier. Crazy tech from off-world. Not even a grizzly could get through these windows, and heavy artillery would barely leave a scar.

  It’s my own little minimalist-bohemian fortress. At least, that’s what I was going for. It’s got more of a dorm-workaholic vibe lately.

  When my heart rate slows and I can breathe normally again, I wrap myself around Damon and bury my face in his thick neck.

  “I love you, Damon,” I say into his soft fur.

  I love you, little one.

  I’ve loved Damon since the moment I first laid eyes on his tiny little kitten-face. My first task after being promoted to Agent was to pick out the Shifter I would bond with. I didn’t waste any time getting to BioSol Laboratories, where they cook up those strange, awesome little creatures.

  The public face of the place is friendly enough, but I don’t have any clue what goes on behind the scenes. All I know, all anyone who doesn’t work there really knows, is that they implant embryos into big cats, wolves, and bears. They do what they do, and through the magic of genetics, we end up with a bigger, stronger, smarter version of each.

  I was there to pick out a wolf pup, but this little runt caught my eye. He was in the cat enclosure, obviously, but he was nearly half the size of the others. They were picking on him like crazy. His creamy fur was matted with blood from wounds on his shoulder, legs and ribs. They were just tearing him up, but the little scrapper was snarling like a demon and showing no sign of giving up.

  I asked about him, but apparently the weak are good practice for the strong. Since he barely squeezed by on his aptitude tests anyway, and he was scheduled for culling, they were just ‘letting nature take its course’.

  It broke my heart. I’ve never felt such an instant connection to any creature, human or otherwise. Our eyes met, and I just knew that there was more to him. I knew that if he had a chance, he’d show them all.

  I wish I could say that was the moment I chose him. I wish I could say that my connection with him had been stronger than my need to prove myself, and that deep down, I’m a good person. The kind of person that rescues another soul just because it’s the right thing to do.

  But I didn’t. If I was going to prove myself as an Agent, keep my place and eventually progress to the Elite program... I needed a badass Shifter by my side. I took a last look at his big, brown eyes, put my name down for a burley, black wolf, and walked out the door.

  I tried to put him out of my mind. I prepared to take my oath and refused to let guilt hold me back. I left him to suffer. The same way I’d been left to suffer all those years with my brothers.

  I stood at the podium, hand on my heart as I repeated the words that would make me an Agent. When they opened the crate to present me with the Shifter that I had chosen, out walked the missing piece of my heart.

  It was the final insult. My pick had been swapped for the broken runt. They knew I couldn’t stop it, not without making a scene and ruining the simple yet critical ceremony. That’s exactly what they had expected me to do. What they had hoped for me to do, I suppose.

  If I felt any disappointment, it disappeared instantly. I picked him up, held him close, and whispered in his ear. You’re so much more than what they see. We’ll show them all. Together.

  My little demon didn’t disappoint. He might have been physically smaller at first, but he was smarter. He was braver. He was just as determined to prove himself as I was.

  When he was old enough to attempt his first shift, he took this big, beautiful panther form. His size, his attitude, and those badass scars combined to ensure no one called him ‘runt’ again.

  I push aw
ay from him, moving to sit on the edge of the bed. Rubbing my temples, I try to shake off the last of the sick feeling those dreams leave me with.

  “Let’s go get a drink,” I say to Damon, even though I’m well aware he doesn’t drink and I’m merely suggesting he sit outside the bar and wait for me to get mine. He can stay home if he likes, but in the four years we’ve been together, he’s never willingly let me that far out of his sight.

  Sleep, little one.

  “We can sleep later. Right now, I want some company. Some human company.” He knows what I mean, I don’t have to spell it out for him, but I will anyway. “I want a man, Damon. Now.”

  Why would you need a human man? You have me, and I already love you.

  I look back over my shoulder, and when I meet his dark eyes, a shiver creeps down my spine. If he could shift into a human body... Fuck. I scrub my hands over my face, trying to erase the mental images. How fucked up am I that I keep fantasizing about my Shifter? It’s just wrong. And impossible.

  If he tried to take human form, he wouldn’t be able to process the depth of thought and emotion. He’d go insane trying to make sense of it all. He’d likely kill himself and anyone near. It’s so dangerous, even attempting it is illegal and punishable by immediate euthanasia.

  “I don’t want love, Dumbass, I want a cock with a driver that knows what to do with it.”

  With a huff he jumps off the bed, stalking out into the hallway with his ears flat against his head.

  I’ve never shared my dark fantasies with him, not even a hint. What would be the point? I would certainly never consider risking his life just to see him in human form. Plus, he basically has zero sex drive. They don’t even make female Shifters.

  I head for my closet, almost making it there before I remember my Local Matter Wardrobe implant. My cotton pajamas are immediately replaced by a short, black skirt with a blue, strappy top.

  No one’s playing hard to get tonight.

  Hunt

  Thirty minutes later and I’m feeling worlds better already. This is my favorite stool, in my favorite bar. Over the stench of alcohol and too many bodies, I catch a whiff of sweet vanilla perfume. My favorite barista. Kelsey leans across the counter, her plunging neckline and long, graceful neck combined with a pretty face and cropped blond hair... hell, she’s everyone’s favorite barista.

  “I’m glad you’re here,” she says once she’s close enough for me to hear her over the noise of the music and patrons. “There’s something a little special on the menu for you tonight.”

  That’s my girl. Always scoping out the best options, giving me a head start on my hunt.

  “Actually, that shirt is making me think I might take you home tonight.” I’m only half joking. It’s not like we haven’t gone there before, a time or two.

  She raises a perfectly curved eyebrow. “I might take you up on that, if you promise to leave the hellcat outside.”

  “And that’s why we can never be together,” I pout. “I couldn’t be with someone who isn’t a cat person.”

  “I’m not sure he counts as a cat, Whisper.” She shakes her head.

  Like most civilians, she’s not comfortable around Shifters. I can’t really blame her. Shifters aren’t generally very friendly with anyone other than their bondmate.

  “What have you got for me?” I swivel in my chair to see if I can spot the one she’s picked.

  Kelsey points, and I immediately see who she’s aiming for. Tall, dark, handsome enough. A little scruff and a bit overdue for a haircut. He’ll be just fine for tonight.

  “And you’re sure he’s not a Protector?” I double check, even though I know she wouldn’t have picked him if she thought he was.

  “Definitely not. He’s been in here a few times. Works maintenance at the teleports.”

  “Interesting.” I down my drink and give her a wave of thanks as I start toward him.

  Halfway across the room, as I’m weaving through bodies, he spots me. I know the moment, because he does a classic double-take. I’m not vain, but I do know that I’m pretty hot. Like, at least a nine. That’s not my own assessment. I’ve been told many times, in varying degrees of sexual context.

  But the only opinion that matters right now is Mr. Scruff... and judging by the way he just abandoned his friend mid-conversation, I’m guessing he agrees, too. He meets me in the middle, at the edge of the dance floor. Because I’m far from shy, and I want him to know what he’s signing up for, I immediately put my hands on his flat stomach. Defined abs tempt me under his dark shirt, the logo of a band I don’t recognize stretched across an equally defined chest.

  “My name’s Whisper,” I offer as I lean in close and raise up on my toes. The music isn’t so loud over here, so I keep my voice low, just for him.

  A grin spreads slowly across his face. It always amazes me how the most subtle body language can get a point across. The simple touch, the lean, the slightly lidded eyes combined with parted lips.

  “Are you here alone, Whisper?”

  “I think I’m here with you.” Cue the lip bite, as my hands slide down to tug suggestively at his belt.

  He leans in closer and I smell a spiced cologne that makes me want to taste his skin. His hand slides around my waist, a possessive gesture that says he’s claimed me.

  “Hello again, Agent Whisper.” The familiar voice behind me is so out of place here, I almost believe it’s a figment of my imagination.

  My almost new toy sucks in a breath, removing his hand from my waist as he stands straight. This can’t be happening. I turn slowly, plastering a casual, fancy-meeting-you-here expression on my face.

  “Elite Gideon.” Is it wrong that the only thing I can think about right now is if it’s an option to take both of these men home? No, there can’t be anything wrong with an image that good.

  “Travis McPherson,” Gideon greets my toy by name, holding out a hand.

  The five-shades-paler Travis shakes his hand, then takes half a step back from me. I can’t even be mad that I’ve apparently just been cock-blocked. If Gideon wants to claim me for tonight, I will happily oblige. Consequences be damned. He doesn’t work in my division anyway, so it’s not technically breaking my rule.

  “Sir,” Travis responds after an awkward silence.

  “You work on the teleports.” Gideon’s statement seems to take Travis by surprise. The expression on his face says he has no idea how the Elite in front of him knows who he is. “How’s that treating you? Do you manage the airside, or seaside?”

  The teleportation systems are used to get people and their crap up to the Solars, or down to the Aquatics. They’re pretty expensive, complicated rigs. I don’t have a clue how they work. Odds are I’ll never get near them anyway. Tickets cost five times as much as just hopping on a carrier or a sub, and even those are out of my price range.

  Not that I’d want to go down to the Aquatics anyway. Being that far underwater doesn’t interest me one bit. As far as the Solars go, I’ll be earning my ticket there sooner or later.

  “Seaside.” Travis clears his throat and takes another half-step backwards. “I manage the AI interface.” He’s clearly giving up without a fight. Can’t blame him, considering his competition. The Elites might not have a uniform, but that trail of implant tats is as clear as a billboard.

  “Really? That’s some pretty cool tech.” Gideon sounds genuinely interested in this guy. Hold up. Is he here to hit on me, or Travis? Now that would be an interesting turn of events.

  “Yeah, sure is.” Travis steps back again, swinging his arms a little before clasping his hands together. “Well, it was good to meet you both. I’ve got an early shift.”

  “Yeah, yeah for sure. Didn’t mean to hold you up.”

  And just like that, Travis is gone, and I’m left alone with the sexiest man on the planet. The sexiest, and apparently the smoothest, because even I’m not completely sure if I just witnessed a pissing contest or the beginning of a beautiful friendship. I’m not even s
ure what to do at this point, so I just stare at him with what I hope isn’t that doe-in-headlights expression so many girls seem to like.

  Lucky for me, he doesn’t leave me hanging for long. Stepping close enough for me to breath in the most expensive cologne I’ve ever smelled, he leans down until his breath is against my ear. I shiver at the closeness, the tension. My earlier confidence is shattered. I’m not the hunter anymore, I’m being hunted. And I love it.

  “I hope I didn’t interrupt anything important,” he says as he runs a hand up my bare arm and I focus on remembering how to breath.

  “No, I... He wasn’t... I didn’t...” What the hell is happening to me? This man is reducing me to a spineless puddle of girly clichés. I need to snap out of this. What would I do if this were anyone else? Shit.

  I turn my head, our lips nearly touching as I look into green eyes that seem to be a shade darker than I remember. I take a fistful of his shirt in my left hand, pulling our bodies closer.

  “Can I buy you a drink?” he asks, his voice an octave lower than the last time he spoke. His mouth is just millimeters from mine. Just a slight lean, and I could be tasting this god among men.

  “I’d rather taste you.” I release my hold on his shirt, moving down his rock-hard stomach to rest on the top of his jeans. And because I want to make sure he knows I’m not just talking about his mouth, I slide my hand under his shirt to pop the top button of his jeans.

  Before I can even register his movement, my back is against his front. He has one arm around me, pinning my own arms to my sides and my body tight against his. Stim implant. This is going to be fun. I should probably be worried, or at least a little apprehensive... this man could break me if he wanted to. I’m way too turned on to give a shit.

  I slowly move my hips from side to side. He sucks in a breath as I feel him growing hard against my back. Judging by what’s obvious through our clothes, Elite Gideon is not going to disappoint. His grip relaxes just slightly, but instead of turning around I push out of his arms and walk away. I don’t look back, because I have no doubt he’s going to follow.