Bound to Change: A Limited Edition Spring Shifter Romance Collection

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Bound to Change: A Limited Edition Spring Shifter Romance Collection Page 88

by Margo Bond Collins


  "So...are you guys related?" Poppy asked Isaiah as the trio went back downstairs. He laughed and shook his head.

  "No," he replied, "we just sort of...found each other. See, Owen is our Alpha. Our leader. It's a long story, better saved for another time. Suffice it to say, we felt a pull, an insistent tug on our brains, to come here and form a Pack. And we help other Shifters when they come into their...well, their power, I guess you'd say." He pulled out a chair at the table as they returned to the kitchen. "We're going to help your aunt get a firm hold on her Shifterness, to coin a phrase. As for how we can help you...we think we can help you to locate your mom and dad."

  Poppy turned a hopeful gaze on him. "You do? You think they're still alive? I mean, its been over three months...even the police have basically given up."

  Isaiah nodded. He sat in a chair next to her and took her hand, scrubbing his thumb across her knuckles. "Yeah, I think we can. See, being what we are, we have excellent senses. Especially a sense of smell. So...yeah."

  Poppy grinned and impulsively threw herself at Isaiah, wrapping her arms around his neck in a firm hug. "Oh my god! Thank you! Thank you so much!"

  Isaiah grinned as he gently returned her embrace. "I can't promise anything, but we do have ways of searching that the police don't."

  "Don't any Shifters work jobs in security or law enforcement?" Jasmine asked, taking a drink of her sarsaparilla.

  "Not many, sadly," Isaiah said. "It's too difficult to pass the random drug tests when your blood comes back with strange antibodies and weird DNA all the time. Most Shifters choose careers that either don't require screenings or have simple, urine-based ones that we can plan for and easily bypass."

  "Hey, Isaiah? Buddy, we gotta go for a run, I'm feelin' the need for a little hunt." Legend set his empty bottle down with a thunk and stood, offering a hand to Poppy. She accepted, and he pulled her to her feet, whistling as he gave her an appreciative once-over. "Man, you are gonna be a looker in a couple years, kid. You and your aunt head on home now, and Jasmine?" His gaze flicked over to the woman who was leaning a hip against the table. She hummed in her throat, the only response she could make with a mouth full of soda. Legend smiled and nodded at her. "You get some stuff together, okay? We'll see you tomorrow afternoon. Get you moved in and settled. And we'll get a room ready for you too, kid," he said, ruffling Poppy's hair. "Go on- y'all get outta here. We gotta go hunt something."

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Four piles of neatly folded laundry, one pile of devices and chargers (including her e-reader- she wasn't stupid), her favorite teddy bear (white, fluffy, and holding a golden heart), and one extra pair of shoes later, Poppy was almost ready to pull her luggage set down from the closet and begin packing. She was vastly hopeful that the Pack would locate her mom and dad soon, so she didn't want to take too much with her. She looked at it like a mini-vacation. At least as far as she herself was concerned, although she was excited that her aunt would be taken care of and taught how to control her Changes.

  As she lugged the huge suitcase and its accompanying duffel and toiletry case to her bed, she wondered what it would be like to wake up one morning in a different body. A body with fur, or feathers, or scales. With weird new teeth, and heightened senses. She considered what kind of creature she'd shift into. Maybe something big and beautiful, like a wolf or a tiger...or even a bear. What if she were something like a porcupine though? Or a slimy little salamander?

  Poppy shook her head and tied her hair up in a messy bun to keep it from falling in her face while she organized her things. She layered her laptop and e-reader between her clothes and her favorite blanket, tucking the chargers into the inner mesh pocket of the duffel bag alongside the laptop battery. She tucked in the spare shoes, then the bear, and placed the toiletry bag inside the suitcase. The tiny bag held only a selection of jewelry, a bottle of Unicorn Tears perfume, and her deodorant stick. She had tossed her shampoo and shower gel in the duffel bag, wrapped in Ziploc bags in case they leaked.

  She zipped everything up, then sat on the edge of her bed with a sigh, looking around her room. Packing seemed so...so final. She felt a little lost, if she were being honest with herself. What if her parents were dead? Or if they'd been taken so far away that there was no way for the Pack to find them?

  "Poppy," her aunt called up the stairs, "Owen's here. Are you ready to go?"

  Poppy stood and walked to her door as though in a trance. "Yes," she called back down, her voice sounding thin and shaky to her own ears. "I'll be right down."

  Suddenly Isaiah popped his head around the corner, his fingers wrapping around the doorjamb. "Need any help? I can grab a bag...?"

  Poppy smiled sadly at him and gestured toward the bed. "Sure. Pick one, ha." She huffed a laugh, and Isaiah gently squeezed her shoulder in a gesture of solidarity. "I'm okay, Isaiah," she said, " really. It's just-leaving is really weird, you know? I've never been away from this house for more than a sleepover at a friend's house. A one-night thing. And then I'd come back home and complain about being stuck with nowhere to go. But now...."

  "But now things are uncertain," Isaiah finished her unspoken thought. "Your folks are missing. What if they come home and you aren't here? I know. But that's unlikely to happen. Legend has already begun the search, that's why he didn't come with us today. He went for a run, decided he'd go along the less common hiking trails, sniff around the old warehouse district. See what he can see. We'll get you two settled in, get something to eat, and wait for him to get back. If he finds anything, he'll let us know as soon as he gets back. Okay?"

  Poppy nodded and let out a puff of air as she slung the duffel across her shoulder. Isaiah took the suitcase, showing surprise at how light it was. Poppy shrugged.

  "I don't want to bring too much, if that's cool. It's just that I hope I won't be staying long. No offense."

  Isaiah gave a strangely feline mewl of a laugh, and Poppy quirked an eyebrow at him.

  "I understand, and I don't take offense. None of us do. But-we want you to know that you're family now. Even if you never shift, you have a Shifter in your bloodline. Possibly more than one. So that means we'll always have your back. Be there to protect you, even from yourself if it ever comes to that. Got it, kid?"

  "Yeah," she said softly, gazing into his azure eyes in something like awe. "Yeah, I think I've got it. Thanks, Isaiah."

  OWEN GREETED HER WITH a soft smile and a firm handshake when she finally descended the stairs. As one hand clasped hers warmly, the other surreptitiously took the duffel from her shoulder and set it beside them on the floor. That hand then covered the top of hers as he gazed into her face, taking the measure of her with his dark, whiskey colored eyes. Poppy felt as though she were being drawn by her core into a place that was warm, calm, and safe. She studied him in return, as Jasmine and Isaiah looked on. The air itself seemed to vibrate with the strange energy of the quartet, and Poppy felt as though she could see the ripples caused by their mutual acceptance of one another.

  "Shall we?" Owen inquired at last, gently releasing both her hand and her soul back to her own possession. She gave herself an almost doglike shake as he broke gazes with her to bend slightly and retrieve her bag, slinging it over his shoulder and hauling it to the SUV, then placing it between two of Jasmine's larger, fuller bags. Isaiah laid her purple suitcase on top and closed the door, giving it a push to be sure it closed solidly. Satisfied, he opened the back passenger-side door for the two young women to get in, ensuring that all limbs were safely inside before closing it with a metallic thud. He slid into the front passenger seat and secured his seat belt, glancing at Owen and giving the Alpha a subtle nod. Owen nodded back and put the vehicle in gear, pulling away slowly down the drive, letting Jasmine and Poppy have one final farewell to the family home. After all, despite hoping otherwise, it might well be a long time before any of them returned.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  They were gathered in the living room chatting when Legend arrived home late that
night. He was sweating despite the frigid temperatures outside, and there was exhaustion in his chiseled face. Even his usually twinkling greenish-gold eyes were dull and weary. He plopped down into the first armchair he came to, his arms draping over the sides as he slumped down, his long legs stretching out before him. In fact, were it not for the rise and fall of his diaphragm, he would have seemed dead.

  "Legend?" Owen inquired taking a hesitant step forward, his lightly accented voice pitched low. "Are you okay, son?"

  Legend made a sound that seemed in the affirmative. Then he shook his head back and forth in the negative. His eyes were closed, yet he seemed to be regaining some color the longer he sat perfectly still.

  "Well which is it?" Isaiah asked. He approached the chair swiftly, making no sound whatsoever, laying the palm of his hand to Legend's forehead, grimacing a little at the moist sensation of cold sweat against his skin. "What did you find? Anything?"

  Jasmine narrowed her eyes slightly, her lips parting as she seemed to scent the air with the tip of her tongue between her teeth. Poppy glanced at her aunt sharply but said nothing, shifting her gaze back to the tableau before her. Isaiah was busily going through the typical motions of checking vitals; pulse, breathing, peeling back Legend's eyelids to check his pupil dilation, etc. At last Legend seemed to have had enough, for he brushed Isaiah's hands away in irritation, fluttering his fingers in a "go away now" motion. Isaiah shook his head in exasperation but took a couple steps back, giving his "brother" some breathing room.

  "I didn't find your folks," the seated Shifter said, turning his head to look at Poppy. "I checked out the woods, a couple run-down strip malls where some hobos and drifters like to hang out, even went down around the old warehouse district. I picked up a scent, smelled like what I got off the shirts you gave us. But it just led me around chasing my tail, literally. I finally just had to give up and come home."

  "So, nothing? Are you sure?" Poppy gave Jasmine a strange look again, and this time she wasn't alone in doing so. Three sets of male eyes joined her in confusion and not a little irritation. Jasey glanced around from Shifter to Shifter, then finally at her niece and shrugged, her dark eyes widening. "What? I'm worried, that's all. Shouldn't your...you know, your Shifter senses have picked up something?"

  Legend huffed. "Trust me, I tried my damnedest. Kinda hard to filter through layers of burnt rubber, dust, gasoline and oil, and all the god-awful smells in Hobo-ville."

  "It's fine, Legend," Poppy interrupted, glancing between him and her aunt as she sought to diffuse the situation. "I know you tried. There's always tomorrow. I mean, they've been missing this long...."

  "We'll try again tomorrow," Isaiah affirmed, touching her shoulder gently and looking into her eyes. She returned his soft smile with one of her own and reached up to touch his hand as Jasmine looked on with something like jealousy stirring behind her gaze.

  "I say we all go to sleep now, or at least try," Owen said. It sounded like a request but they could all feel the command beneath. "Plenty of time to jabber at breakfast, and then we can begin your training in earnest, Miss Jasmine."

  SHE WAS LOST IN THE woods, near where she had found the body over three months ago. The sickly-sweet smell of decay filled her nostrils, cloying in its intensity. She gagged, holding her hand over her mouth and nose in a desperate attempt not to repeat the sudden evacuation of the day's food that had happened the last time. Her heart pounded in her chest as she looked frantically for an escape route. Everywhere she turned she was surrounded by darkness. The shapes of the trees were like long clawed fingers reaching for her. Their branches plucked at her clothing and caught her hair, pulling it painfully. She attempted to shove the encroaching foliage out of her way but it was as though the trees were sentient, an angry mob crowding around her. She flinched away from the grasping branches of one particularly aggressive larch, but not before it scraped roughly along her forehead just above her right eyebrow. She felt hot blood drip onto her cheek just beneath her eye and felt her panicked gasping ratcheting up into a whine. She tried to scream then, and all color left her upon realizing that she couldn't. Not a sound. Not even a whimper.

  Suddenly, whilst fighting the trees, she heard growls and snarls in the blackness beyond. She went completely still, thinking that maybe, just maybe, whatever was out there would think she was already dead and leave her alone. But the noises only redoubled, growing louder and more insistent. Then the eyes began to appear, one after another from among the branches, glowing gold and green and blood red in the moonlight that only they could reflect. She heard the crackle and pop of leaves and twigs cracking underfoot as whatever creatures they were approached, on the prowl and hungry. She smelled the musk of wet fur and the stink of carnivore breath, but though she tried to pull away she knew that it was hopeless. There was nowhere to go. She was utterly surrounded and about to be ripped to shreds and eaten...villainous, animalian faces began to distinguish themselves in the darkness....

  A tall shadow separated itself from the inky black of the night and wrapped lanky arms around her, holding her close. A large hand splayed across the back of her head, pressing her against a smooth chest. Heat enveloped her, driving the ice from her blood. She heard his heartbeat, a steady thrum-thrum-thrum, and as she listened she felt her fear melting away, as though drawn into the figure which embraced her. Colorless, glittering eyes in a mysterious face stared down the snarling forms surrounding them until, one by one, the slavering shadows withdrew, slinking and slithering and skulking into the night. The trees themselves seemed to pull away as well, the little clearing in which they stood expanding until it was once again merely an unassuming spot in a normal forest. The stench of death disappeared. A few valiant rays of sunlight broke through the fog and mist, yet it wasn't enough to show her the features of her rescuer.

  She tilted her head, pulling her cheek away from the warm, satiny chest it had been resting against, and attempted to look upon the face of her savior, but though he angled his head to meet her gaze his features remained a mystery. All she could make out was a curtain of hair, twinkling eyes, and the vague outline of a fine nose. He stroked one large hand down her hair, then cupped her face with both. He delved long fingers among the strands, lightly massaging her scalp as he combed his hands through her long brown hair. A look of confusion covered her face, causing her brow to furrow as she felt tingling warmth on her skull. He drew a thumb along the cut on her forehead, and that too began to tingle.

  "Who are you?" She asked in a whisper, but he pressed a finger to her lips and shook his head.

  "I can't tell you," he said, his voice a rumble in the night. "Not yet. But you will know me when we finally meet. Your very soul has recognized me tonight. A change has begun. Be ready."

  POPPY SAT UP SUDDENLY, pulling a deep breath of chilly night air into her lungs. She clutched the blankets to her throat as she tried to shake the aftereffects of her nightmare (dream?) and calm her speeding heart. She scrubbed her free hand down her face and glanced at her side table, groaning quietly when the glass of water she was already reaching for wasn't there. She threw back the covers and swung her feet over the side of her bed, stretching a bit until her spine gave a satisfying crack, then placing her feet (in their fluffy pink socks with frolicking grey kittens scattered on them) on the polished wood floor. She figured she would head down to the kitchen and root through the cupboards until she found some hot chocolate or chamomile tea or something to help her get back to sleep.

  Hopefully the stairs didn't creak.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Damn and blast! Somehow the girl had escaped the nightmare which was meant to kill her. Yes, the woman who currently studied her own reflection in her bedroom mirror had learned long ago that fear itself could kill. Terror could destroy a mind. It had easily every potential to be as deadly as poison, especially to the very old, the very young, and the infirm. She had lost track of how many she had murdered during her extremely long life-but then, when that life was extende
d specifically by how many other lives she sacrificed, did numbers really matter? She smirked at her reflection. Well, no matter. Soon enough the girl would be destroyed, and she herself would be granted the years which would have remained to the teenager.

  The woman shrunk into the shadows as she heard footsteps in the hallway. Heavy, clomping steps which came from thick-soled work boots. She hissed on instinct, the fine hairs on her arms thickening and becoming soft, thick fur, her fingernails lengthening into claws. She gave a delicious shiver, her eyelids drifting shut as the ecstasy of her Change nearly overwhelmed her. The lovely feelings she got from Shifting remained with her even after so many centuries.

  With a low purr she rubbed her not-fully-transformed hands along her arms, smoothing the fur there while simultaneously wiping it away with a glamour spell. She had places to go, people to hunt...meat to slaughter. It wouldn't do to be seen in her true form until she was ready. No-that wouldn't do at all.

  POPPY SCRUBBED A HAND down her face, opening the cupboard and staring blearily at the boxes of tea, bags of coffee, and packets of hot cocoa. So many choices-who would've thought three such masculine men would be connoisseurs of tea, coffee, and cocoa? She giggled just the smallest bit as she chose a packet of mint hot cocoa and closed that cupboard, searching then for a mug. Finally locating one (in the last place she looked, obviously) she dumped the cocoa powder in and slowly added water, hoping the microwave didn't have that infernal, eternal beep timer that the one at her parents' had. She tapped her foot as she waited, arms crossed and gazing unseeingly at the floor. She was running on automatic pilot as she stirred the spoon around, although she was careful not to clink it against the mug too often.

  She was lifting it to her lips to blow on when there came a shuffling from the dark living room and she froze, eyes wide as she searched the shadows.

 

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