Bodyguards of Samhain Shifter Box Set

by Lisa Daniels

When he rode with Ellie to the precinct, she was brimming with excitement. “They’re going to train me,” she said eagerly. “Just the basic junior program, so I hear, so I can have some more options in the future. I could become a necromancer in the police force, maybe, or I could go Talia’s route and become a paranormal archaeologist or whatever it is necromancers do with old things.”

  “Archaeologist, huh?” Mason nudged her gently in the elbow, sharing her delight. “You wanna go exploring caveman caves and unearthing gravesites and ancient cities?”

  “Sure. Sounds more exciting than sitting around doing nothing. There must be a demand for necromancers, right? Because we can sense the burial spots.” She rubbed at her chin thoughtfully, brimming with excitement, acting like her early teenage years all over again, when she thought she had a grand future and wouldn’t be sucked into the underworld where her father ran illegal deadrings, and she had to watch necromancers pit bodies against one another and viciously tear into each other as mindless animals. Being in that kind of environment damaged the soul. It degraded you, to be near that savagery.

  Sometimes, he was surprised he could look at Ellie and not see a monster there. Somehow, she’d managed to keep something of her old self with her. Just enough for him to believe that she’d always be good and never turn into some kind of monster. “Who knows? Maybe I’ll come protecting you when you go into your dangerous jungles, exploring to the ends of the world.”

  “Yeah!” She turned to face Mason, her eyes shining, clutching him by the arm. “That’d be super cool. I’ll have to ask Talia if her work will involve that sort of thing.” Ellie smiled so beatifically that Mason felt momentarily dazzled. Lord, that girl did have a beautiful smile. Not that he allowed himself to think beyond it being a smile, because Ellie was his charge, his responsibility. Always, always.

  “We’ll see.” His smile came back at her, soft, and his heart did a funny lurch when she leaned against him, her head against his shoulder, hugging his elbow. She closed her eyes for the rest of the ride there, with Rosen, the driver, giving them an ever-so-casual glance in the rearview mirror. Mason didn’t have any words to say. Ellie had hugged him before, of course. Sometimes he felt that strange, tight knot in his stomach and throat, like now, but it was like that feeling you had with an animal trusting you, right? If a cat snuggled into your lap, you didn’t want to move, right? Because that little thing was there and with you, sharing warmth and trusting enough to put itself under your control.

  That was what the tightness was. It had to be. Because Ellie trusted him, and laid her head against him, and he absolutely didn’t want to betray that trust. Not in a million-million years. She meant too much to him for that.

  Still, when she left him and went for her induction session with Rosen, for some reason, it felt like a little bereavement of sorts. She was being trained, now… she wouldn’t need him around quite so much, and his own, new and improved job one day would take him from her. They were still together, but instead it’d be a slow decline, until finally there was no need for each other anymore.

  That was always going to happen, he told himself, going for his evaluation, where the precinct wanted to determine how effective he was, and what risks he could go under. It soon became obvious to them that they could likely send him to high-risk zones, since he had a decent chance of survival, being immune to bullets and all when he shifted into his dragon form. One thing that pleased him significantly less was the fact that there happened to be a stern dragon shifter on the force as well. One of a higher class than him, and could transform into a blue dragon the size of a small truck. The second he encountered that man, he got treated to an aura of disdain and contempt, of a faint mockery of him because of the circumstance of his birth.

  “You must be of the lowest caste, no?” Detective Gant had watched his transformation into a dragon and back with the faintest sneer upon his arrogant features. “With a form that tiny...”

  Mason bristled at the words. “My size has nothing to do with my effectiveness to battle. Sir,” he added, since the dragon seemed to expect some kind of honorific from him. “I have defended my client efficiently for many years.”

  “She is a child who barely left her home,” Gant pointed out with a sly smile. “Even if you shifted into the size of a cat, that job would have been possible for you. What does your family do, anyway?”

  “I don’t think it appropriate to ask that kind of question, sir.” Mason bit hard on his words, not wanting to aggravate the hostile dragon more than necessary. He was the equivalent of a middle-class dragon, and they tended to be particularly nasty to their inferiors, as they wanted to feel better about everything, including the fact that they weren’t big enough to be nobility.

  “Can’t be anything worthwhile, if you want to cover it up so much. Still, they’re letting you protect her for a little longer. Seems to be an adequate use of your talents, from what I’ve seen.” The detective stared at Mason eagerly as he spoke, as if waiting for Mason to retaliate, to lash out in anger, and therefore give him an excuse to fire Mason straight out of the precinct. Well, Mason was a better person than that.

  “What’s my next lesson, sir?”

  Gant regarded him for a moment longer, then beckoned him over to his next test—shooting down a range. Shooting wasn’t exactly Mason’s greatest skill, but he got enough body shots to only earn a light sneer from Gant. That was probably the best reaction he could hope to expect from someone like Gant. He waited for Ellie afterwards, still contemplating whether or not he should phone Regal. If he should cut things off once and for all, or wait until the man attempted to reach him.

  A few more moments of waiting, tasting the foul coffee the precinct had, and noticing the acrid glare of Gant as he passed through reception, was about enough to conjure up Mason’s courage. He didn’t want to seem weak to something like that.

  Being underestimated constantly grated on his soul, his pride, and ultimately his sense of self-worth.

  Outside of the precinct, he found himself holding a crappy little plastic container with black swill sloshing around the bottom, grains sticking to the sides. Sunlight beamed down, more hot than warm, though he didn’t mind the heat. He dialed Regal’s number and waited intently for the response, sort of knowing what he wanted to say, but dreading saying it.

  Regal answered after four rings. “What is it?”

  “Hey, Regal,” Mason began, wondering just how he was going to stop this man from exploding all over him. His conclusion: probably not possible. He’d have to take the fury every step of the way. “How is it back there?”

  A soft snort answered him. “Delightful, as always. I’ve more pressure being piled on my back, and I’m moving today. Today. Where’s my daughter?”

  The moment of confrontation had never felt so sour in Mason’s throat. “She’s gone. Fled the country, left false trails. I ended up in Canada looking for her, but she’s shaken me off, Regal.”

  Angry breaths huffed down the phone. Mason listened, preparing himself mentally for the wrath he knew was coming. “You… lost her. The one person whose sole job is to keep an eye on her, protect her, and make sure she doesn’t stray too far… and you damn well lost her.”

  “That’s correct, sir.”

  “How on earth did she get the money? She’s not been able to access my bank account, and I was taking her earnings.”

  “Possibly she had enough scraped up for at least a bus trip, sir. You did allow her pocket money to eat and drink things of her own choice, after all. Buses can be very cheap if you book the right ones.”

  Regal let out a little snarl, and Mason heard the man pacing up and down, in a place that echoed. “I should have known she was going to give me the slip. Wretched brat. Well, since she’s gone, that means I don’t have to employ you anymore, you useless sack of shit. You’re fired. Immediately. I won’t be giving you your pay at the end of the month.”

  Mason sighed, expecting as much. “Don’t you want me to co
ntinue looking for your daughter, sir?”

  “No. Don’t bother.” Regal paused a moment. “She’s better off away, anyway. Yes… this will be better. Goodbye, Mason.” He ended the call without so much as a thank you for the years of service. Nothing but the curses, and that soft admission that maybe Ellie was in a better place rather than back home, stuck under Regal’s thumb, and by extension, Zaimov’s.

  They were finally free. Wasn’t quite as painful as I expected. Sure, having an extra month without payment might be hard for his family, but they should have just enough to be able to sustain them. He’d have to warn them, of course, and he did that via call, his mother accepting the result without too much resistance. She knew, after all, that her son would be raking in more money. No need to kick up any drama over it.

  Free. Mason drew in deep, lung-filling breaths, observing the sun glint its light upon high-rise buildings, how the many cars racing along the streets were reflected in the windows of skyscrapers and office blocks, and how the few gray clouds in the sky promised rain later on. Wanting something better than the sludge inside his cup, he tossed it aside and searched for a better place for drinks, possibly hot snacks as well, if they ever ended up taking breaks and needing to stuff something down their throats. He found a promising place just around the corner, offering hot paninis with several delicious fillings, and a coffee that didn’t smell as if it’d been dug up out of a swamp. No more swamp-juice for him. He also brought back a ham and cheese panini and latte for Ellie, figuring if she rejected either, he’d finish off the rest himself. Win-win, either way.

  She was out of her training when he came back, and accepted the goodies with much enthusiasm. “Oh, thanks, Mason! I was freaking starving. And I’ve smelled that coffee in their machine—it’s awful. They don’t have any decent ones in the kitchen, either. Mmm!” She sniffed at the food and took a gigantic bite out of it, leaving Mason to stare in amusement as she had entirely too much fun consuming what he’d brought. Also, the sounds she made were a little distracting, to say the least, but he was familiar enough with Ellie by now that commenting on this would only cause her to spit the food out at him and stubbornly refuse to take in any more, even if her stomach growled like a beast.

  She really isn’t a little girl anymore, he thought wistfully, finding it hard to reconcile the memories in his head at times with the very adult, very womanly necromancer in front of him today. Worse, he knew so much about her, and loved her, but it was just the normal kind of love. It didn’t mean anything beyond the usual connotations. He’d die for her, of course. He’d do anything to make her happy. Anything to make sure she had the best life possible, though he needed to balance that with his own needs and family commitments. He couldn’t exactly drop his entire family just to follow Ellie to the other end of the world.

  But with this new opportunity presented, he might just do that.

  These are dangerous thoughts. His mind became cold, freezing out the breadcrumbs his thoughts left, which he knew would lead to a place he should never, ever approach.

  A place that sometimes invaded his mind at night, despite his best efforts to control it. A place that sometimes wondered, what if. What if, with all their time spent together, they liked each other a whole lot more than just bodyguard and client?

  What if, over all the years, their affection had solidified into something so powerful, so tangible, that one day, everything might change?

  Chapter Seven – Ellie

  The dream was far more vivid than it had any right to be. One moment, Ellie had been just talking to Rosen, who for some reason was standing in one of the deadrings back home with her, and the next, Ellie had walked over to Mason, who said he wanted her help with something. She knew she shouldn’t help him, but her body moved of her own accord. When she reached him, there was a strange glow in his sea-green eyes, an almost beckoning smile on his lips. She’d approached closer and closer, until his face seemed to fill up everything, and her eyes were on his, and then his lips, and she knew that if she did that too much, it’d be obvious she wanted him that way. His face continued to grow bigger and bigger until there was suddenly no more room to move anywhere or do anything.

  And that, of course, was precisely when she decided to wake up. Just before she got squashed by that damn face.

  What a bizarre as heck dream, she thought, staring at the ceiling of her fancy new room, and then feeling slightly jealous of how rich Talia’s family was. It seemed with all the underground fighting her father did, he liked to keep things frugal back home. He never let Ellie see the money she earned in her fights, all to keep her dependent. She’d set up her own bank account anyway, got herself cash on the side, and gradually scraped enough to leave that life behind forever.

  She didn’t quite expect to have such bizarre dreams, though. For a moment, she could’ve sworn the dream wanted to veer into sex territory, and that thought alone made her break out in a cold sweat, because the last thing she wanted to do was start picturing her bodyguard in any other capacity than what he was paid for.

  Just no. Hell to the no. With breakfast out of the way, and a yawning Mason standing in the corner of the kitchen with ruffled hair and morning stubble, she needed to make a break for the precinct, where a few Stoneshire detectives had come over for an interview with her, intending to corroborate their information with whatever she had. Morgana Hargraves was first to greet her when they entered the interview room.

  “We’re going to take part in some tests later to gauge what we should do with you,” she said, after a brief hug and a sideways glance at the glum Stoneshire detectives who looked as if they hadn’t slept for days. “Be a nice chance to use your powers again. I know you’re good.”

  Ellie nodded to Morgana, still thinking of her as Crimson. She liked Morgana a lot better before she found out that Morgana was a damn narc.

  Detectives Soho and Owles got straight to business, clearly wanting to get everything out of the way as soon as possible.

  “The main thing we’re interested in is your information on Zaimov,” Soho, the one with a noticeable beer belly when he sat down, said. His companion, Owles, seemed to match his surname. His eyes were too large for his face, and perhaps vapid as well. “We’ll take what you have on the deadrings, but primarily we’re trying to hunt down Zaimov.”

  Ah, of course. He was an elusive fish to Ellie as well, but she figured they would want to track down one of the most notorious criminals of the underworld. One that had hooks in almost anything to do with necromancer activity, and one who was conducting experiments, alongside her father, on revenants and guardian angels.

  The best she could do was tell them about the experiments she knew Zaimov to be doing, and the recent debacle with the deadring when Regal lost control of an ancient revenant. She didn’t seem to think it that good information, but they eagerly jotted it all down as if it was incredibly juicy, and she supposed it probably did help them, because they went away with marginal smiles on their otherwise grumpy faces.

  “Let’s get you to your training now,” Morgana said, gently steering Ellie toward a small building next to the police station that looked suspiciously like a morgue. Ellie soon found out it was a morgue, just for the small forensic department to manage, and that it was an additional one built after the hospital’s own morgue became too crowded and police forensics wanted to conduct their investigations toward any suspicious deaths or links to criminals. Here seemed to be a John Doe—some homeless person no longer with the world.

  “This is a body that can be used for research purposes. No ties to anything. The soul itself is an interesting one. See if you can spot why.”

  Ellie nodded, sitting in one of the chairs with Morgana, examining the peaceful-looking body. The face was old and relaxed in death, showing a lot of lines like deep crags. There was a certain waste to him, too, as if he’d spent years pumping his body full of poison before finally dying, from exposure, heart failure, anything that riddled the homeless and their
perilous lives.

  She closed her eyes under Morgana’s guidance, tapping into her magic at last. The Other Side greeted her like an old friend, with its muted colors and the beautiful cadence that the spectral realm offered. She heard the whispers of nearby spirits, and was surprised to see that the spirit directly attached to the old man hovered in the first layer. First layer souls were usually reserved for animal spirits, beings with a simple beauty in their essences. Very rare to find a human soul in this layer; they usually had enough moral complexity to warrant them a deeper level.

  Approaching the spirit, she saw that it was a deep blue, with a tiny flicker of gold.

  A guardian angel? Ellie thought in sudden amazement. Though the gold wasn’t strong enough to denote a full-fledged guardian angel. Maybe he was in the process of becoming one? “Spirit, tell me your name,” she said, addressing the ghost. The blue-ghost spirit shimmered, drifting toward her. Ellie was vaguely aware of Morgana’s spirit in the foreground, watching over them with a careful eye.

  “Harold,” the spirit said, in that otherworldly voice, with a faint sustain to each syllable. “Harold Trembath. Have you seen a little boy? He was this high.” The spirit indicated a height that reached just above his chest. “He was a stranger to me, but I want to know—is he okay?”

  Possibilities expanded in Ellie’s mind. “Did you help this boy?”

  “He was in trouble,” Harold said sadly. “There was a police officer. He had a gun, the boy was holding… I think it was a water pistol. There was shouting, arguing, a shot. Then I was here, but that boy… is he okay? He only had a water pistol. What happened?”

  Oh. A small wave of sadness went over Ellie.

  “Since he remembers,” Morgana said softly, startling Ellie in the Other Side, “that means the boy is alive. Probably. I think this man isn’t a full guardian angel because he didn’t know the boy, so he doesn’t know where to go to find him.”

  “I’ve been looking,” the man confirmed. “I can’t go too far from—from me. But he’s nowhere. Where is he?”