Death Be Shifted (The Terra Vane Series Book 6)
Page 6
The sight of him dressed in a gray tee and jeans had me gulping. Me? Gulping! At him… holy crap.
He smiled when he caught sight of me, but those eyes… warmth flooded at such a welcome, and I had no clue how to react. Or behave.
I’d dated. Had a few partners. But not like this. I’d never fallen in love. And never in such depth, having laid the foundations in friendship first. I nervously returned the gesture of a smile as he took my bag from me.
He smirked as if knowing all. “What’s up?”
“Nothing.” I shrugged my shoulders, throwing on my leather jacket while trying to act casual.
“You’re finding this weird, aren’t you?”
“No,” I said far too quickly.
“Nothing’s changed, you know. Aside from the fact we’re dating. Everything else is the same.”
“It’s not the same.” Raising the keys in my hand, I aimed them at the car. A beep and a click later, I made my escape into the driver’s seat.
Kaleb climbed in next to me and held his hand out. “Hi. I’m Kaleb. The guy you’ve known for several years. The guy who had to slap your bare ass when you made out with—”
“Don’t even finish that sentence,” I growled.
“When you were undercover trying to take down the Undine’s husband.”
“Will you please shut up now?” I started the car.
“How were you to know that the Undine would come home during your attempted seduction on her spouse.”
“I was undercover,” I said through gritted teeth.
“And how would you know that she’d come after you and her husband with a meat cleaver?”
“We swore we’d never speak of this again.”
“And who could have predicted what she’d force me to do when I turned up on the scene pretending to be your better half.”
“I hate your ass.” I yanked the car out of the park and drove us toward the road.
“I don’t hate yours.” He grinned, poking my leg. “And if I remember rightly, your beautiful backside wobbled in all the right places when I had to—”
“Don’t you dare say it!”
“When I had to pull down your jeans and slap your bare ass in front of her to teach you a lesson. Ten slaps again, wasn’t it?”
“You took way too much pleasure in that if I recall.”
“Oh yes, I did. But the act saved our lives from her vengeful intentions. And I rubbed it better afterward.”
“You’re a dick.”
“Yes, I am. But now I’m your dick. Everything is still the same between us. Nothing has changed. Aside from the fact I now get to fondle you without risking a punch to the jaw.”
I sighed. “I know what you’re getting at. I do. But it is different. You’ve felt my boobs now. It’s weird.”
He chuckled. “It’s not weird. You have nice boobs.”
“You know what I mean.”
“Yeah. I do—even though I’ve only fondled. But just you wait until we take it to the next level. The bra will disappear. The panties. I’ll have you naked in a matter of seconds.” His voice deepened, and my body responded. “Three dates, remember?”
The urge to touch him burned through me. I tightened my hands on the steering wheel. “You’re not making this easy.”
“If it were easy, it wouldn’t be fun.” His hand slipped in between my knees, just resting there in promise. I’ve never felt so torn between kicking his ass and kissing his face off before.
“Just you wait,” I growled, keeping my eyes on the road.
“Oh, I’m waiting. Don’t Fret. And just so you know…” He leaned close, his breath tickling my ear. “It’s going to be worth every touch.”
If I had a cent for every obscene thought I had on our drive over to the portal, I would be a wealthy woman.
Relief flooded through me when the airport portal came into view. I collected my bag and shot out of the car as if it were on fire, Kaleb chuckling behind me.
Clearing security, I kept Kaleb distracted with shop-talk as we trailed through the Fey Forest. The comfort of being home and taking in the sights of the city kept him distracted from turning me into wanton jello.
I gave my stepdad a call on the way over. He sounded happy to hear from me, but I told him to go when I heard someone calling his name in the background. He didn’t want to, but I made a promise for us to get together soon so he’d get back to work.
When I sighed off from the transmission, Kaleb stroked my cheek. I looked up from the black-strap contraption on my wrist.
“That smile…” he whispered, hooking a finger beneath my chin. He leaned down, kissing me softly. When he lifted his head, I blinked as if I’d stared too long at the sun.
“You’re kissing me in the street,” I heard myself say.
“So?”
“You never do things like that.”
“What? Kissing you in the street?”
“Kissing anyone in public.”
“You’re not just anyone.”
Oh my poor heart. I didn’t stand a chance. I kept falling and falling…
Taking my hand, he led me over the cobbled road of the Victorian Quarter. We made our way to The Rail.
Portiside City is a realm divided by its majority, yet united under its diversity. A blend of species lives in each quarter, even if each portion of the city is a little different from each other.
The Victorian Quarter is specific to the psychics, the card readers, the witches, and the traders. Many inns, shops, and run-down offices operate from this part of the city. Never catching up with the times, it’s a place that’s remained immersed in the period it was born from, all while embracing specific technologies reminiscent of the steampunk ideals on Earthside. Unlike the Indicium and Crystal Quarters, it runs mostly on firelight and wound up electricity, the Fey’s refusal to dig for fossil fuels forcing everyone into alternative energy methods. Crystal energy is expensive here and needs recharging regularly, so many stay with what they know.
The Industry Quarter has similar practices compared to VQ. But because engineers and inventors mostly live there, a lot of their alternatives come from mechanical innovation. Some they share. Some they don’t. So the Victorian Quarter keeps the quaint candle lamps and fire furnaces in most of its establishments and residences, the old architecture and detailed craftsmanship weaving a beautiful capsule of history around the place.
A hissing of steam told us The Rail had arrived. But the steam didn’t come from burning coal. It was an effect, a decoration, the evolved version of kinetic energy making it move.
Stepping onto Portiside’s scrapyard-remnant monorail, which operates on rails high above the city, I took a moment to look down at the world we’d left behind below.
Sitting in the plush seats, it hurt me most when the buildings blending with greenery became more prevalent the closer we got to the Crystal Quarter. My homesickness intensified the closer we got to Portis Forward Incorporated: the place where my stepdad and Rosie work as Evolvers.
Kaleb put an arm around my shoulders. “You’re missing them a lot, aren’t you?”
“Yeah,” I admitted, unable to keep the sorrow from my voice. “I know we tend not to see each other for weeks at a time, us on one hunt or stakeout or another, and them on top secret projects that need Evolver expertize. But being on Earthside for so long makes it feel… I dunno…”
“Like years instead of weeks?”
I turned to him, offering a gentle smile. “Yeah. Something like that.”
“I know how it feels.”
“You miss them, too?”
“Well. Yeah. They’re like my family. But I mean, when you go over to Earthside to assist Dan on FBI cases, I hate it. It always feels like forever.”
“The longest I’ve stayed over is a month.”
“I know. But I still hate it. I don’t know what to do with myself. And the other agents give me shit because I act like a lost wolf pup while you’re gone.”
“
More like you find the warmest bed to jump into,” I scoffed, and he laughed.
“You’re never going to let me live my past down, are you?”
I heard the pain within his attempted humor and felt awful. “Kaleb, I’m sorry…”
“Don’t be.” He shrugged. “I understand. I often forget you and Bernard used to be a thing. And it doesn’t bother me with how close you two are, but it hits me sometimes, you know?”
“We were never serious.”
“Maybe not. But you two got it on. A lot. And it’s only in the past year you’ve both stopped being friends with benefits. Images of you both rolling around in the sheets does not make a good pastime.”
“Mayra has told you way too much about my sex life.”
“Yes. She has. But I see it. I see you and Bernard have moved past that. I know you’re both just good friends now. And I love that he’s there for you. There is no way I would ever try to come between the two of you.”
Leaning my head on his shoulder, I said, “And I need to stop being a dumbass about your past. Consider me reprimanded.”
He chuckled. “I always said you were a drama queen.”
After jabbing in him the side, I snuggled in all the more and watched the wonders of Portiside City flash from the comfort of his arms.
9
Once The Rail pulled into the Strystium station, we exited The Rail and made our way through the grasslands that border the city.
Totem Talamh, the land of the shifters, takes up a decent portion of our world.
Segregated by their species, the cat shifter plains sit in the northwest, the bird shifters are to the southwest, and the wolf shifters, who dominate as separate packs, live in the east. There are some bear shifter packs on that side also, but few. They ally themselves with the wolves, as do the mixed breed packs. Some of which also ally with the bird shifters. Even though the cat shifters often try to flaunt what power they have in the world, they always know never to overstep with the wolves. There is old hierarchy and traditions in the wolf packs, creating strength in not only number but in unity. And they protect the borders of their land. As packs, they may disagree from time to time, but against threats, they stand as one. No one wants to piss off a wolf shifter.
Marked by tall, unforgiving evergreens, the borders of Totem Talamh offer the first warning to anyone lingering close. Trespassers aren’t welcome. They allow guests and those who have jurisdiction—like us. But even then everyone must show respect if they don’t want their throats torn out.
Kaleb stopped at the border, shrugging his bag onto his shoulder. He contemplated his next steps, knowing what waited on the other side.
“You okay?” I asked, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze.
“Yeah. I’m good. But I’ve been thinking.”
“Oh no,” I drawled. “Not thinking?”
A reluctant smile crossed his lips. “I want to go into Caladonia Moor with another intent other than just visiting my friend, Brent.”
“And what’s that?”
“To show off my girlfriend.”
I smiled, goofy, dreamy, whatever the hell you want to call it. “Girlfriend?”
“Yes. Girlfriend,” he replied. “I respect Brent. And we were close growing up. It would be nice to go in there with more than just the intention of pushing our noses in where they’re not wanted. And I’d like you to take the time to get used to it.”
“Get used to what? Being your girlfriend?”
“Why do you sound so high pitched when you say that?” he smirked.
“What? When I say girlfriend?” I squeaked.
“See? You’re doing it again.”
“I’m not. I only wanted clarification.”
“What? That you’re my,”—he increased his pitch—“girlfriend!”
“I should disown you right now.”
“Why, girlfriend? Not feeling the love?”
Hearing the word ‘love,’ it hit way too close to home. Yes, I want to be your girlfriend! I wanted to shout. Yes, I’m in love with you! I wanted to yell. But my pride is a mighty shield. What can I say?
“I’ll be your girlfriend,” I told him, happy to throw discomfort his way. “Let’s have a Blessed Union when we arrive. Your buddy can bless it. Then we can make psychic-shifter babies, all before going over to Earthside to get married. You can be my bitch. And if you play nice, I’ll buy you an apron.”
His eyes flared, but not with anger. It was something more profound—something I couldn’t quite define—then the smugness returned. “You joke, woman.” He tugged me in the border's direction and we entered the trees. “But I would rock an apron. Especially if I’m naked.”
“Why does everything have to be about getting naked with you?”
“I like naked. It’s our natural state. Don’t be shy.”
“Shy,” I scoffed. “I know I rue the day I let you shove your tongue down my throat.”
“You shoved your tongue down my throat first. Remember the incubus magic?”
I blushed. “Whatever.”
“‘Whatever.’ The Terra way of saying, ‘shit, you’re right, but I don’t want to tell you so.’”
“You’re hilarious.”
“Don’t I know it.” He lifted my hand and kissed it. “But if you don’t behave yourself, I’ll tie you up and get Brent to perform a Blessed Union just to annoy you.”
I paled.
He laughed and said, “Now who’s the commitment-phobe?”
“I never said that.”
“You didn’t have to.”
Not wanting him to think me indifferent, I reassured him, “I’m in this. Okay. And I’m looking forward to what us being together could mean. But neither of us know how all this will play out.”
He stopped walking, his face serious beneath the trees encasing us in their daylight shadows. “Do you think I’m not serious about this? About us?”
“I think you want to be. As do I. Bu we should take it one day at a time. Our friendship is on the line here. Not forgetting our working partnership. I don’t want to screw it up.”
“You won’t screw it up.” He leaned in, his lips close to mine. “I won’t let you.”
My mind buzzed as I drew in the scent of him.
Gently putting his hand to the back of my head, he pulled me close, his mouth gracing mine, not moving much, barely touching. He moved closer, softly, slowly; the tingles eking their way out in unhurried, sensual pleasure. Finally, he lessened the distance between us. But his tongue didn’t enter my mouth. It flickered against my bottom lip, suckling, kissing. Warmth flooded my veins, my clothes too confining.
He pulled away. My eyes flickered open.
“I’ll dance this dance with you,” he said, drinking me in, his voice rough, “but know every time you try to run away, I’ll catch you.”
He kissed me, pulling me close so I could wrap myself around him.
Our bags dropped the floor with a thud, and I fell into the solace of his fiery embrace.
The noise of a rippling stream was the first sign we’d neared our destination. Or so Kaleb told me.
Having removed my jacket, I’d wrapped it around my waist after the make-out session he’d blissfully put me through. Soon after, we fell onto neutral ground, chatting about his childhood growing up.
Kaleb stuck with the positive tales, of how he and his best friend, Brent, often spied on the girl shifters bathing in the river. But after the girls’ older brother showed up and chased them in his big bad wolf's form they hid better the next time.
He also told me about how they’d camp out under the stars, sitting around a fire, telling stories, sometimes confiding in each other the pressures of home. But most of the time, he and Brent would goof around. Play cards. Dare each other. They were inseparable until Brent’s learning made him less available.
I felt sorry for them both, their becoming adults putting a restraint on their friendship, especially after Kaleb had moved to the city. He’d only seen Bren
t twice since doing so, and I could tell from the wistfulness in his voice he missed his friend.
As we approached Caladonia Moor, more of the land appeared from the pathway, the same tall, dense, green ceiling of trees trapping us beneath their canopy of protection along the way. Animals scurried, potential prey feeling safe enough to come out during the daylight hours.
The summer of the Fey-managed weather made full blooms of the flowers as it flowed through into Totem Talamh. The wolves like their seasons, unlike the cat and bird shifters. The environments of those in the west are tropical temperatures all year round, but not here. Here everything looks as it would on an average trek through any forest. But there was an edge to it all—one that warned to watch where you step.
Signs and markers helped travelers see where the owned territories were, but they were few. To play it safe, visitors stayed on the pathway: a groove in the ground created from hundreds of years of people’s movements. And most people followed the rules of look out for the signs, stay at the border, show no threat.
The shifters demand respect, the long history supporting it. And even though there are laws in Portiside that everyone has to abide by, there are still the unspoken laws—ones that see certain killers granted leniency if people disrespect traditions.
A wooden sign with blue markers soon appeared, a plank of wood on a post with CALADONIA MOOR painted on it in white. Next to it, someone had imprinted a paw mark, a star in its center. A shifter’s mark. All packs and clans have one, and each one is different.
Kaleb took a few steps onto their land, and I followed. But when we came across a tree with a blue ribbon hanging off its branches, he put his hand up for me to stand still.
“The ribbons are a warning,” he whispered. “We’ve reached the border. Time to lie in wait.”
We didn’t have to wait long.
Three shifters, bare-chested, two having dropped out of the trees above us, approached. Their walk was slow and purposeful, revealing them as the predators they were. They puffed up their muscled chests, behaving like they had good reason to walk about with no shirts on. But they had muscle on them. Just like Kaleb. Just like a shifter.