Shifters of the Wellsprings: The Complete Paranormal Collection

by Leela Ash

  Nothing happened.

  Click.

  Savannah tensed, expecting the blare of alarms. Instead a new window opened, one that listed no less than six different prisons where hostages were held. Complete with names. With that information, other Shifters could figure out who was compromised.

  I just found the key to learning which Rats are double agents!

  Still, no warnings blared. No guards with assault rifles kicked in the door.

  She dragged the file onto her thumb drive and selected another.

  Click.

  A report on an excavation near Taos that was compromised by the Darkborn. A danger she’d never even heard of.

  Click. Drag.

  Breath shallow and fast, she got to work. Sorting through Beaumont’s email. Copying every file she could. Waiting for the trap to spring.

  Which it never did.

  Two hours and three thumb drives later, she had to quit. It was too dangerous. If Mr. Beaumont saw her in his office, she was dead. Or, worse, liable to be dragged off and tortured.

  Despite her fear, though, her heart sang. This was the motherlode, the fountain of information she’d always dreamed of. This was why she’d spent three years undercover among the Fangs. Living for the day when she’d worm her way into their trust.

  Living for today.

  She needed to talk to Todd as soon as possible. Her survey of Ormaz’s files made one thing clear: The Fangs of Apophis knew a lot about the Shifters of the Southwest. Where the Aegis was and what protection it had. Which men were attuned to it. Who their loved ones were, where they lived. They even had full transcripts of some of the private meetings between the leaders of the different Kinds.

  Which could mean only one thing: There was a Fang spy among the local Shifters. Someone highly placed. Someone trusted by both Dragons and the Witch Hares of Sedona, the most powerful Warren in this area.

  Who that was, she couldn’t tell. But maybe one of the other files held a clue to the spy’s identity. With more time, Todd and the others might find him.

  If she could get this information to him. She wasn’t out of the woods yet…

  Taking a seat at her own desk, Savannah scattered papers around herself. Building the perfect picture of hard work. For half an hour after that, she scribbled down meaningless notes.

  Until Jordan Beaumont strode back into the office. Once more, she was struck by his aura. Even walking, he commanded respect. His poise, the strength and confidence of his stride… they were like nothing she’d ever seen in another man. Now, irritation layered a hint of danger on top of that.

  The meeting had not gone well.

  Good. It helped hide her guilt. Anyone would shrink away from that annoyance. Her dry lips and rapid heartbeat wouldn’t betray her.

  “Welcome back, Master.”

  “Eddy Adams is an idiot,” was all he said.

  One last test. As Mr. Beaumont returned to his computer, Savannah watched him from the corner of her eye. Was everything back where it belonged? Opened mail re-marked as ‘unread’? Each window in its proper place? One slip, and she was dead. He might not even bother to call for security. Just snap her neck and be done with it.

  Disgust twisted his handsome features as he surveyed the screen. Then, with a deep sigh, he went back to work.

  Slowly, her heartbeat returned to normal. Head bowed, hands folded in front of her, Savannah crept to his door. “Master?”

  “Yes?” He never even looked her way.

  “As you feared, many of the papers I need are not online. May I have your permission to leave now? I want to spend some hours in UCLA’s library.”

  Now, he did raise his head, fixing her with those uncanny, brilliant eyes. They held her, like a rabbit in a snare, and she feared that she’d overstepped. Instead, he merely said, “It’s already late. Don’t work all night just to ‘impress’ me. I want you rested and at your best when you’re here.”

  Freakishly kind, for a Fang! “As you wish. But I can still get a lot done this evening.”

  “Very well.”

  Quietly, she backed away. Then, scooping up her pocketbook (and the precious thumb drives it contained), she hurried out the door. At every step, she expected security to come swarming out.

  No one did. She rode down the elevator alone and swept past the checkpoint without raising an eyebrow.

  Not until she reached the street did euphoria sweep over her.

  I did it! I scored an incredible breakthrough against the Fangs!

  Todd would be so happy! And the other Shifters too, of course. But it was the thought of her boyfriend’s glee that set her alight.

  Chapter 5.

  From his desk, Jordan could see Savannah ‘Doucette’ at every moment. Each time he glanced up from his computer, she was there. Long, luxurious, brown hair framing her heart-shaped face. Sweet, full lips pursed in concentration. Most Fang women reveled in edgy fashions. Purple hair, pancake make up, garish lipstick and eye liner. Not his secretary. She was a breath of fresh air in this decadent place. Clean and pure, only the lightest touch of rouge and color to accent her natural beauty.

  Her soft, feminine form roused fierce emotions within him. Lust and longing, a sharp, possessive desire that made him want to attack any man that dared to cast an amorous look her way. She was his. His secretary. His assistant. For his eyes only. And he could watch her all day long.

  I could do more. If I wished.

  As her master, he could demand anything from her. His peers often did. Hell, his office even came equipped with a spare bedroom. The ‘lounge’ as they called it. People expected a Fang to bed his assistant – whether she welcomed his attentions or not.

  The mere thought made him queasy, killing the desire that smoldered within him. He could never take her against her will. Oh, sure, he’d dreamed about her in a vivid (if pathetic) parody of the Rite of Claiming. As if a wretch like him could actually win a True Mate! Sad, really, that he still dreamed there was something pure inside him. Something a loving woman could see and desire.

  In real life, though, Savannah ‘Doucette’ did not love him – nor desire him. Her body language screamed that, in the way she folded her arms across her breast as they talked, hiding them from him. The stoop of her shoulders, as if she sought to fold in on herself and avoid his gaze entirely.

  That was not the posture of a smitten woman. If she wanted him, she wouldn’t hide her body. She’s flaunt it, find excuses to brush against him and be near.

  None of that happened. They remained at opposite ends of their offices, two cool professionals.

  Savannah ‘Doucette.’ Not for the first time, he found himself wondering what her real name was. Jordan’s Rat detective was good – good enough to warn him that she was a spy. Not good enough, however, to uncover her true name.

  Maybe that wasn’t fair. Perhaps the ‘problem’ was that she was too competent. Yesterday, she snapped up all the information he’d left her. She must have; she wouldn’t have fled the office so quickly if she was empty-handed. Yet, try as he might, he couldn’t see any sign that she’d accessed his computer. That relieved him more than he cared to admit.

  She may actually survive this. Unlike me.

  How long had she hesitated, sure his ‘carelessness’ was a trick? He’d dragged the meeting out as long as he dared, until Eddy Adams squirmed with impatience, buying her as much time as possible. A cautious spy wouldn’t leap at such a painfully obvious ‘lapse.’ Wariness kept them alive. He could only hope that his bait was too tempting to refuse.

  Because it wasn’t a trap. It was a gift.

  With her help, I am going to destroy the Fangs of Apophis. Or at least its American branch.

  Savannah rose. When she saw that he studied her, a blush brightened her cheeks. So alluring, so enticing, that his desire came rushing back full force.

  “Master? May I take my lunch now?”

  “Yes.” He continued studying her. Courtesy was a weakness among the Fangs. A l
apse that might warn them that he’d changed. So, he watched her, savoring the curve of her hips, the way she swayed gently as she left. Leaving him alone, with his work.

  Time to find more information for my spy to ‘steal.’

  That should have been it. Once her distracting beauty vanished from his sight, his calm should return. Longing and desire would be put back to sleep by the tedium of dull work. For a few minutes, at least, all went as he planned.

  Then it hit him. An explosion of fear that tore the breath from his throat and left him gasping.

  Savannah was in danger. Mortal danger.

  Trembling, Jordan leaned back in his chair. What a ridiculous idea. Ormaz wasn’t without its dangers; no lair of the Fangs was. But he had no reason to believe his secretary was threatened. Even if she was, how on Earth would he know?

  Something stirred in the dark recesses of his mind. Feelings, a voice that died decades ago.

  …mate… it whispered.

  His lip curled with scorn. As if a monster like him could Claim a Mate? Apparently, that dream had unleashed a torrent of foolishness. Triggered a… what was this? A panic attack? He’d never had such a fit of vapors before. Fear was as alien to him as love.

  There is nothing wrong with Savannah. Stop this nonsense at once!

  Instead, his horror doubled. Blood pounded in his temples, adrenaline roared through his body, demanding action. Find her! Protect her! Save her! No rational thought could blunt the edge of that command. His heart, his soul, needed to go to her, now. To his shock, Jordan found himself losing control. Rising to his feet, heading for the office door, even while he raged at himself for being a fool.

  Movement shattered the last of his self-control. Like a river when it finally breaks free from its dam, his heart spurred him on. Two steps, three… and then, he was running. Throwing the door open, barreling down the hall, whipping past glass doors where secretaries stared at him in shock.

  Not once did he question his destination. Savannah was in the lunchroom. Not at the cafeteria. Not gone out for lunch. How he knew this didn’t matter. It was a fact. A certainty that drove him at top speed.

  He hit the door at a full run. Already, his Shifter power flowed into him, preparing to do battle with whatever threat menaced his secretary. With a shriek of tearing metal, the door burst off its hinges.

  A woman’s scream joined the door’s howl.

  Savannah.

  She sat, a homemade sandwich in her hands, staring in shock. Not at Lara Pearl, the only other person in the room.

  At him.

  Drowning in rage and the need to protect her, he barely noticed. The rational part of his mind protested that, of course, he’d frightened her. He’d just kicked the door in, hadn’t he?

  “Master? What’s wrong?”

  Empty noises spilling from her lips. What mattered was the threat. The enemy that dared to menace her.

  Lara Pearl.

  With a flip of his wrist, Jordan sent the table flying. It crashed against the wall, spraying shards of glass across the floor.

  Again, Savannah screamed as she scrambled away from him, a sane, sensible act when faced with a raging Shifter.

  Lara Pearl, however, simply stared at him. Facing his fury, his power, with shocking calm. “How interesting,” was all she said.

  Doors opened down the corridor. Shouts rang out, more meaningless noise. Nothing would distract him from his goal, however. “SAVANNAH, GET OUT!” he roared.

  To his relief, she trusted him. With no hesitation, she darted to the doorway.

  At once, he stepped between her and Pearl. His heart sang, a beautiful song – one he’d forgotten in the long, dark years. The rightness, the truth of protecting her, filled him with joy.

  “How did you know?” Pearl asked.

  Know what? Now that Savannah was safe, the rage that had driven him began to fade. Leaving a deep confusion in its wake.

  What the hell is going on here? What did I just walk into the middle of?

  More important, what on Earth was he going to do? As a lord of the Fangs, he could kill any secretary like her with impunity. No one would blink an eye – he could slay her simply because he disliked her tone. Adams might sulk over losing his secretary, but he’d get another. The Fangs were full of women like her.

  But Jordan couldn’t just kill her. Not without cause.

  A harsh, croaking voice spoke in his mind. Feeble yet stronger than it was five minutes ago.

  This… thing threatened… Mate.

  Was that truly his Shifter soul speaking again, after so many years? The thought filled him with more dread than joy. Why was it babbling again about Mates? He couldn’t…

  Lara Pearl reached for him, as if she meant to give him a comforting pat on the arm.

  Instinct made Jordan jerk away from her touch. As he did, the last clue fell into place.

  Darkborn. Pearl wasn’t in control of her body. Some malign spirit, some demon, wore her.

  Something that thought he would be a much better host.

  He spun away from her hand and caught one of the chairs. With a quick, savage blow, he slammed it into the secretary’s leg. The bone snapped, sickeningly loud, and she dropped to the ground.

  Silent, without any sign of pain. Which confirmed that the thing he faced was no longer fully human.

  Behind him, Savannah gasped.

  “Darkborn!” he shouted, never taking his eyes from his fallen foe. “Get a Witch Hare, now!”

  Savannah tore off down the hall. She dodged Eddy Adams who sidled cautiously toward Jordan.

  “Beaumont? What the hell is going on?”

  “Darkborn. One got your secretary.”

  The creature tried to force Lara to crawl closer. Both Shifters backed away, and the spirit hissed with annoyance.

  “Once the Witch Hare gets here, we’ll get her dispossessed,” Jordan assured the other lord.

  A spasm wracked Lara’s body. Her jaws wrenched open – and suddenly, a stream of black vomit spilled forth, pooling on the ground before her.

  The Darkborn. Leaving her crippled form as it sought a healthy host.

  Gasping, eyes wide with terror, Lara looked up at him. “Help me…,” she whimpered. Then, the pain of her shattered leg hit her, and she wailed in agony.

  Freed from her, the demon slithered eagerly toward the two Shifters. Jordan shifted his weight onto his toes, ready to dodge. If he could keep this thing focused on him for just a few minutes, long enough for Savannah to fetch the Hare…

  Beside him, a gun shot rang out. Lara Pearl’s screams were cut short as a bullet slammed into her head. And, like a shadow dispelled by the sunrise, the Darkborn faded away.

  Shocked, Jordan spun.

  Adams. A faint curl of smoke drifted from the barrel of his .45.

  “Why the hell did you do that?” Jordan gasped. This woman was his lover! How could he kill her in cold blood?

  His horror baffled the other Fang. “Didn’t you read the report on these things? Darkborn stay anchored to their host, even when they emerge from its body. Kill the host and the demon goes back to the Other Side. Quickest way to get rid of them.”

  “But Savannah was getting a Witch. We could have saved her…”

  Adams’ nose wrinkled. “Lot of work for a secretary. Why bother? I can just get another one.”

  Without thought, without warning, Jordan’s fist lashed out. It slammed into the bridge of Adams’ nose, shattering it in a spray of blood, and knocking the Wolf into the wall. Howling, he crumbled to the floor.

  Jordan kicked his feet out of the way and stalked down the hall. A deep, cleansing fury burned within him.

  Savannah stood beside the elevator. Things had happened far too fast for her to summon help. Seeing his rage, she shrank away.

  “Come!” he snapped as he strode toward his office.

  His office. His lair. A place for him and his secretary – and God help anyone who assaulted them in his domain!

  No spi
ritual ‘voice’ spoke. Hell, he’d probably imagined it. Yet, a deep sense of rightness settled over him as he shut the door behind them.

  This was what he should do.

  This was what he should have done long ago.

  Chapter 6.

  Nothing made sense.

  Savannah stared out through the suite’s bullet-proof glass walls as people scurried by. Many stole long, furtive glances as they did. Curious about the attack, and Mr. Beaumont’s odd behavior.

  Well, if they saw any answers in here, they were one up on her!

  Her master had spent the last hour, pacing furiously, in his office. An agitation broken only by the occasional angry phone call. He seemed genuinely upset that Eddy Adams had killed Lara.

  That was the first thing she simply couldn’t understand. Why did he care? She did. Lara was sort of nasty – but she’d tried to help ‘the new girl’ in her own obnoxious, cutting way. That was kinder treatment than any new Fang could expect. Savannah was grateful for her snooty advice on clothes and how to please a master, even if she didn’t intend to follow any of it. Her stomach roiled every time she thought of Lara’s death. To watch the woman murdered… by her lover, no less! Because he couldn’t be bothered to wait for a Hare…

  Any normal person would be appalled. But Jordan Beaumont wasn’t normal. He was a high-ranking Fang of Apophis. A monster. Probably a murderer many times over. His compassion baffled her.

  Even it wasn’t the question that truly frightened her. The one that shook her beliefs to the core was, how had he known?

  Darkborn were notoriously subtle. Once they were hidden inside a host, not even a trained Witch Hare could detect them. Rumor had it that a psychic attached to the Sedona Warren could sense Darkborn. If so, that lady was unique. Those spirits were the ultimate spies and assassins. The almost-unstoppable hands of Nemagorix.

  So, how had Jordan known Lara was possessed? What need drove him to kick down the door? It made no sense.

  Irrational though it was, she wondered if she was to ‘blame’.

  Was I in danger? Did that spirit plan to possess me?

  Nonsense. Only True Mates knew when their loved one was in danger. Despite her odd dream, Jordan Beaumont couldn’t be her Mate. He wasn’t a Dragon. He hadn’t joined her in that strange, vibrant fantasy.