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Bound to Change: A Limited Edition Spring Shifter Romance Collection

Page 43

by Margo Bond Collins


  About the Authors

  Crystal Ash

  CRYSTAL ASH IS A USA Today Bestselling Author from California. From an early age, she's been obsessed with magic, heart-wrenching love stories, strange animals, and the people who turn into them.

  When she's not writing, she's probably in her garden of crazy-looking plants or drinking craft beer with her husband and cat.

  Check out more of Crystal’s stories here with three free books!

  Join Crystal online

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  Reader group: Crystal’s Coven

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  K.B. Everly

  K.B. EVERLY IS A USA Today Bestselling Romance Author from Southern Mississippi. She has one daughter, a rotten little puppy, and two cats who she claims are stealing her soul in only tiny doses so she won't notice. She can be found (or not found) hiding from her tiny human so she doesn't have to share her snacks. Usually, it’s in the closet. What free time she has is used fighting with her prosthetic leg, or stuffing her face with copious amounts of coffee and candy as she types away on her next book.

  Join K.B. Online

  www.kbeverlyauthor.com

  K.B. Everly’s Reader Group

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  ORIGINS

  Null and Void Series

  Jen Ponce

  About Origins

  Dez has no magic in a world filled with power, a fact that makes her a hot commodity amongst the fey. When trouble comes to the bar where she works in the form of three hot shifters and an ex she hasn’t been able to forget, her whole life is tipped upside down.

  The shifters are willing to help her hide, but at what cost? And there’s the little matter of her feelings for Jake and the reason he walked away from their relationship. Dez doesn’t want to get her heart broken or lose her freedom, which means she can’t trust anyone ... not even the man she once thought she’d spend the rest of her life with.

  Chapter One

  The fey were miserable fucks and the woman who called herself my boss was the worst of the lot. Her name was Persimma. She had a thing for goblins, liked to scratch her ass in public, and thought all her nasty habits were forgiven by her to-die-for looks.

  Literally to die for, not that it stopped men from crashing against the rocks on her shore.

  Everyone knew she was a killer and loved her anyway.

  Almost everyone. I didn’t like her, but it didn’t matter what I thought. I was indentured to her through no fault of my own and I doubted I’d ever get out from under her thumb.

  Ostensibly, I was in hock for three years ... but that had been five years ago. She kept finding fees to add onto my term and when I fought it, she made my life miserable.

  The only good thing about this whole situation was that she couldn’t make my life miserable with magic. I was a null, which made me immune to all magic. It didn’t stop her from slapping me, but it kept her from setting my insides on fire and leaving me to writhe in agony for a few dozen years.

  I supposed I should be grateful for the small things.

  Because I was a null, I was valuable. Magical creatures like Persimma coveted my ability to create neutral zones wherever I was. The bar where I “worked” was now a magic- and drama-free zone. Creatures like Persimma who were born magical could visit and mingle like regular humans. Older vampires would spontaneously combust. Newer ones would end up as corpses in varying stages of decay.

  Shifters, like the three men who walked into Ragwort’s that afternoon, lost their power to transform, but it didn’t make them any less dangerous. From the looks of them, I guessed they were wolves, though big cats weren’t out of the question either. I’d only ever met a big cat shifter once in my life. They were rare.

  The guys sat at the bar, their eyes sweeping over the scattering of waist-high tables, pool players, and the Jug Raymer band currently setting up behind the metal mesh at the far end of the room.

  I put a smile on my face and sauntered over, doing my best to look welcoming and bored all at the same time. “Gentlemen. What can I get you?”

  Three pairs of eyes turned my way.

  I was used to scrutiny, so I waited them out. Nulls were rarer than big cat shifters. As far as I knew, there were only ten of us in the entire country. Eight of the ten of us were indentured because of course we were. The other two had enough money to pay for bodyguards to keep them free.

  Everyone wanted a null on their team. We evened the playing field. If only we had power of our own, but that was a wasted lamentation. It didn’t do me much good to neutralize vampires or fey when they could just overwhelm me the old-fashioned way with sheer numbers.

  Fuckers.

  “I’ll have whatever’s on tap,” said the shifter on my right. He was tall, broad-shouldered, and had a luscious mane of honey-blond hair made for running fingers through it. His eyes were honey brown and I wondered if his lips tasted as sweet as the rest of him looked.

  “You?” I asked, shifting my gaze to the middle guy. He was leaner than the first, his whipcord muscles the kind you’d see on a martial artist.

  “Water.”

  “All right, and you?”

  The third guy wore a broad grin banded by the biggest dimples I’d ever seen. “Are you on tap?”

  The other two groaned which only made his grin wider if that were possible.

  “All you’d get from me is pain and suffering, my man. To drink?”

  “Tequila. With lime.”

  I nodded and set to getting their drinks. Despite his rather heavy-handed attempt at a flirt, neither Dimples nor the other shifters seemed that interested in me. They were obviously looking for someone, their eyes scanning the bar with a thoroughness that set warning signals off in my head.

  If I owned the place, I might be concerned enough to alert the bouncers. If I gave a shit what happened to the Ragwort, I might hunt down Persimma and let her know three shifters—probably wolves—were casing her place.

  I put the beer, the water, and the tequila down on the bar. “Cash or do you want to start a tab?”

  “Tab, darling,” said Dimples. “What’s your name?”

  I looked down at my chest—it was a nice one if I did say so myself—and stared pointedly at my name tag.

  “I didn’t want to stare at your chest and seem impolite,” he said, eyes twinkling. “Dez, I’m Michel. This is Simon,” he said pointing to the lean middle guy, “and Giles.”

  “Nice to meet you,” I said. I should have hied myself off to do some mopping or checking on the other patrons, but something made me lean a hip against the bar and say, “What brings you to the Ragwort?”

  “You,” Simon said. His dark, serious eyes were a contrast to Michel’s dancing ones. He looked like the type of man who could fade into shadows and kill you before you even knew you were going to die.

  “Well, I’m flattered but I’m taken.” I held up my left hand and wiggled my fingers. Around my wrist was Persimma’s ownership of me, a silver bracelet declaring me her property until such time my debt was paid. Although it couldn’t be spelled because of who I was, I left it on despite my hatred for it. It kept me from getting taken by other supernaturals who wanted the prestige and safety I could provide. Persimma was a bitch, but she was the bitch I knew.

  My life wasn’t a bed of roses, but I wasn’t being kept in a collar and chains like my counterpart in Jackson City.

  “If you could have your freedom, would you want it?” Giles, he of the pretty hair, asked.

  I blinked, emotion caught in my throat and behind my eyes. Freedom. It was all I’d wanted since forever. But having it came at a price. “I think you should go.”

  “I think you should hear us out,” Simon said.

  I leaned in close to the bar, impressed when none of them let their eyes dip to my boobs since they mounded and rose above my low-cut t-shirt. “Persimma is from the Summer Court.
Do I really need to tell you anything more?”

  “Oh, we know Persimma and we aren’t afraid of her.”

  “Then you’re stupid,” I said and moved away from them, unwilling to hold a conversation with three of the dumbest men I was ever likely to meet. “Not afraid of her,” I muttered as I swooped in on a group of rowdy regulars and confirmed another round for all.

  Benny, one of the older and drunker men, tried to put a hand on my ass. I dodged him easily and smacked him lightly upside the head. He was a troll and trolls weren’t the brightest at the best of times. He knew he wasn’t supposed to touch but he tried every damn time he came in and every damn time I blocked and smacked him.

  This time, three shifters appeared in the space of time it took me to smack Benny, all of them looming menacingly over the table of assorted magicals. “Hands to yourselves, boys,” Michel said, his grin seemingly filled with killing teeth.

  “Yes sir,” Benny said hastily. No magic meant he was just a frail old guy with a penchant for trying to sexually harass bartenders. Any one of the shifters could have put him into the ground without even trying.

  “Just to seal the deal, we’ll buy the next round,” Simon said. He had his hand on the shoulder of the goblin nearest him, and Petey’s hunched back told me he was gripping him hard.

  “Knock it off,” I said. “These guys are my regulars and they know I’ll kick them out if they ever actually touch my ass or any other body part of mine without permission, isn’t that right boys?”

  The boys—more elderly men than boys, but whatever—all vigorously nodded their heads.

  “Go on, now,” I told the shifters. If things got out of hand, Persimma would rise from the depths of her bower and make my shift a million times worse. When she was around, tensions ran high and people lost blood. Sometimes even their lives.

  “But the drinks?” Petey asked hopefully.

  “On us,” Simon confirmed.

  “Okay, but let’s separate too, yeah? Come on. Let’s keep the peace.” I made a shooing gesture and glared.

  They didn’t move for a minute, probably trying to assert their dominance or whatever alpha male bullshit. I put my hands on my hips, waiting until they complied.

  As soon as they were sitting again, I said, “I don’t need or want your help. Got it? Those boys over there are harmless. They know if they even think about doing anything to me, they’ll lose their heads to a pissed off fey with armored nails.”

  “You’re right,” Michel said. “We’re sorry for interfering. Don’t forget to get them their drinks on us.”

  I eyed him because he didn’t sound sorry at all. After a minute, I decided there was nothing I could do, so I left them to it, poured and served the drinks for the trolls, then circulated the room, tending to the patrons gearing up for a long night of partying.

  I didn’t have any more trouble with anyone and the next hour passed quickly. More people came in, more drinks were served. My help—a young fey named Yessamyn—arrived earlier than expected, and soon we were slinging drinks and weaving through crowds. Saturdays were always packed when we had a band. Human musicians tonight, since many of the magicals couldn’t play themselves out of a bucket with me around.

  I loved it when Persimma invited fey musicians to play. It meant I had the night off and could do my own thing—with bodyguards, but they only stood by to make sure I wasn’t taken from their boss. They didn’t stop me from doing what I wanted.

  Okay, that wasn’t true. I didn’t date at all anymore because trying to get deep or sexy with someone while four dour-faced guards hovered nearby was almost impossible.

  I hadn’t been laid in four years.

  Four.

  It was a travesty.

  And maybe that was why I was thinking impure thoughts about the three shifters at my bar, quietly talking and drinking amongst themselves while the party whirled around them.

  I’d almost decided that despite the strangers it was going to be a relatively uneventful night when the door swung open and he walked in.

  Chapter Two

  EVERYTHING FELL AWAY at the sight of him.

  Jake Talbot.

  He was bigger than he’d been in high school. Broader at the shoulders, his chest filled out, his jawline hidden beneath a well-manicured beard. His hair was long, its familiar brown waves pulled back into a low ponytail.

  He moved with a dangerous deliberation, the graphic t-shirt he wore clinging to his muscled frame. His jeans rode low on his slender hips and stretched tight over his thighs.

  I used to run my fingers over those thighs, watching his skin jump under my nails, loving the way his eyes danced as he held back laughter. It tickled him but he still let me do it, loving the way I touched him.

  Loving me.

  An ache so strong it hurt filled my chest. Yearning. Loss. A flicker of hope I needed to ruthlessly stomp on or risk the kind of heartbreak a girl could die from.

  I turned on my heel and hurried into the back, certain my face was as pale as a sheet. Several deep breaths later, Yessamyn was there, patting my back, asking me what was wrong. “You look like you saw a ghost.”

  I did. I had. He was a ghost, a man I never expected to see again. “Can you watch the floor for a while? Until ...” I cleared my throat.

  “Until what, sweetie?”

  If I wanted to show him how over him I was, then hiding in the back wasn’t the way to do it. I didn’t think he’d seen me, but why take the chance of him thinking he still affected me all these years later.

  “Sorry, I’m all right. Just had a moment there.” I laughed, hoping to brush off her questions and concern.

  She eyed me as if I’d gone a little nutty. “All right?”

  “I’m fine, really. Let’s get back on the floor before Persimma realizes we aren’t catering to her crowds.”

  She made a face and we went back out.

  As I worked, I felt the heavy weight of his regard on me. I laughed, I flirted with some of the cuter men, and I deliberately kept my eyes from meeting his. Yessamyn waited on them, leaving me free to avoid Jake and all the things I’d lost that his presence reminded me of.

  My freedom was a big one.

  My future.

  My goddamn motherfucking future.

  The doors opened again as I was taking a tray of empties back to the kitchen. I glanced over and slowed when I saw who it was.

  Nicta Leandros, Persimma’s sister and rival, royalty of the Spring Court and an utter nightmare.

  “Dez, where’s my sister?” she asked, her bright blue eyes sparkling with unbridled evil. “Don’t you just look super cute in that outfit?” she gushed. “I swear you get prettier every time I see you, darling.”

  Evil. I told you. “She’s still downstairs. I haven’t seen her all week.” I wasn’t supposed to tell people anything about Persimma, but she owned my labor, not my loyalty, and so whenever I could blab about her to others, I did.

  “Such a slugabed. I’m taking my usual table. Drinks all around, set up a tab, and make sure you tip yourself forty percent, okay?”

  “You bet,” I said.

  Yessamyn looked a little jealous that I’d gotten to Nicta first, but she knew I’d share my tips with her. She wasn’t indentured, but she was a single mother and needed every extra dollar she could get.

  After getting Nicta and her entourage started, I went up front where Jaeger, the Ragwort’s bodyguard, sat looking bored. “What’s happening tonight?”

  “Fuck if I know, but I’m guessing there’s going to be a blow-up. Shifters, a few trolls and goblins, the fucking Spring Court and ... oh shit.”

  I turned.

  Oh shit was right.

  Autumn Court was here in the form of Augustine Renoir. The tall, slender man wore makeup like no other, his dark eyes outlined in sparkly orange glitter, his elegant form wrapped in black and orange silk. He really took the aesthetic of Halloween to a whole other level.

  “We’re boned,” Jaeger muttere
d.

  I agreed.

  Something big was happening and Persimma hadn’t bothered to warn us. Sure, it was possible she didn’t know what was going on, but I doubted it. That woman had her sharp-tipped nails in every pie.

  Whatever was happening, it was big and those of us without a dog in this race were in danger. When the supernaturals started shit, people tended to die.

  Fantastic.

  “Dez.”

  I froze at the sound of his voice.

  “I need to talk with you,” Jake said, his tone low. He gave Jaeger a head nod that the bounder returned. “Please.”

  I thought about refusing, but I couldn’t see a way to do that without tipping him off that I wasn’t exactly over him. At all. “Okay, let’s chat out front.”

  “It won’t get you in trouble, will it?”

  Right. He hadn’t seen me since the summer after high school. Back then, I only affected magical stuff if it was within a foot of me. My null radius had grown over the years, however. It started spreading soon after Jake and I broke up. My dad had called it the ‘creep’. I took exception to that term as a teen but now I embraced it, though it was more of a radiation than a creep. While in the bar, the effects of my null abilities reached fifty feet around the bar and surrounding area, both horizontal and vertical—woe the poor flying shifter who flew into my null radius. Their wings would fail as their magic did and they’d drop like a stone.

  It was why the bar was required to have a tower on the roof with red warning lights.

  “You look good,” he said, his hands stuffed deep into his pockets, looking as unsure as I’d ever seen him. It was endearing.

  “You too. Did some weightlifting, eh?”

  He snorted.

  “Why are you here, Jake? Do you know what’s going on?”

  “There’s a big power shift underway ... didn’t your boss tell you about it?”

  “She doesn’t tell me anything. I’m just her protection. Nothing more.”

  Anger flashed across his face and was gone. “She’s an idiot.”

 

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