The Ocean's Roar: A Tiger Shifter and Mermaid Romance (The Protectors Quick Bites Book 3)

by Keira Blackwood

  The Ocean’s Roar

  The Protectors Quick Bites Book Three

  Keira Blackwood

  Eva Knight

  Copyright © 2019 by Keira Blackwood & Eva Knight

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to any actual persons, places, or events is coincidental. All characters in this story are at least 18 years of age or older.

  The cover utilizes stock images licensed by the author. The model(s) depicted have no connection to this work or any other work by the author.

  Edited by Liza Street

  PS brushes courtesy of Brusheezy.com.

  Contents

  Introduction

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Epilogue

  Also by Keira Blackwood

  A Taste of Can’t Prove Shift

  About the Author

  About the Author

  Introduction

  Quick Bites—stand alone stories you can devour in a flash. Expect short, steamy shifter romance, edge-of-your-seat action, scorching love scenes, and a happily ever after.

  Mates, Mermaids, & Murder.

  Cats and water don’t mix. Tigers aren’t meant to be dragged to the bottom of the sea, even if it’s to solve a murder. But that itch to claw my way to the surface—it’s blown away by an entirely different desire.

  She has unearthly silver hair and violet eyes…not to mention the tail of a fish. But my tiger roars to claim this mermaid, fins and scales and whatever else comes along with her. We come from different worlds, but fate forces us together.

  If we can't solve this murder, there will be war. If we don't hurry, I'll lose her forever.

  Snag your free Protectors story, Revenge, exclusively available to Keira’s email list!

  Chapter One

  Vaughn

  The moon was hidden behind a heavy blanket of thick and fluffy clouds, leaving the burden of lighting the dark night to sparse floodlights perched at the tops of buildings. So far, I’d seen a grand total of three lights in four hours of walking the alleyways by the edge of the harbor.

  Fortunately for me, seeing in the dark was one of my shifter specialties. Plus, low visuals were ideal for staying hidden if I needed to shift.

  All Rose had given me, in his stick-up-his-ass voice was, “There have been sightings of a sea monster in Portsworth. Find it.”

  Want to catch a ten-foot tall boogeyman? Take down a terrifying creature that reeks of week-old seafood and sports glittery green scales instead of skin?

  Send a tiger.

  So, in the middle of the night, I strolled along the dark pathways by the water’s edge and searched for the perfect line to throw at said monster, just in case it actually existed.

  The air was so humid I could chew it. Well, almost. It did feel really gross, though, like clammy fever sweat. Remnants from the last summer storm evaporated into steam from the hot pavement, adding to the effect.

  It was a clammy fever night, straight out of some noir sleuth flick, and just when the mobster was supposed to come out of the shadows—cigarette in his mouth—to shoot the helpless screaming broad, that’s when I caught my first glimpse of the boogeyman.

  Short, squat, and trench-coat clad, the balding man shifted his attention to and fro. But none of that screamed sea monster. It was his rancid scent that told me this could be my guy.

  Fish Face. The Crusty Crustacean. Stinky Shrimp?

  Eh, my insult game needed some work—especially if I was going to stun this guy when I confronted him. Not that I was entirely convinced the sea monster existed at all.

  Rancid! I could call him the Rancid Rock Lobster. Eh, maybe.

  My potential prey was a short, squat balding man waddling his way deeper into a maze of dumpsters and cardboard shanties.

  An entire town’s worth of people could be living back here with as many nooks and crannies as there were in the makeshift shacks. But if anyone was home, they were minding their own business tonight.

  The streets narrowed as I followed the boogeyman from a distance. All remained dark and quiet. And I was thankful, because that made tracking a breeze.

  I stepped just a little too hard in a small puddle causing a splashing, sloshing sound accompanied by a very wet foot.

  The boogeyman froze. He must have heard. Maybe I’d been just a little overconfident.

  I held my breath while his round head darted left and right.

  No enhanced sense of smell for this guy, or he would have noticed a shifter following him by now. Also, he probably couldn’t have breathed if he could smell anything at all, not while walking around smelling like halibut.

  Heinous Halibut—not too bad.

  Seemingly satisfied that he was alone, the suspect resumed his walk. And I continued following—more carefully this time.

  The path ahead opened into a shabby courtyard where four dark apartment buildings met. My mark slowed as he reached the open area, then stopped. He swept his gaze from side to side, looking for something or someone. I crouched down behind a dumpster and watched.

  The whole mission felt like a snipe hunt. If only the Tribunal had a sense of humor. No, if Rose thought there was some kind of sea monster roaming the streets, there probably was. Maybe it was some kind of shark shifter that got rabies or something, and now kept straying onto land and scaring folks.

  Even if this guy was the fish shifting sea monster I was looking for, he was probably harmless.

  But if he tried anything, I’d be ready.

  The guy rocked on his heels, darting his attention all over the place in the dark courtyard. Was he nervous? I couldn’t tell by scent, because I couldn’t smell anything over the stink of fish.

  Good thing stink didn’t hurt my super tiger vision, well, except for when I had to chop an onion. I could see perfectly in the dark while maintaining my human form, so long as the area was onion-free.

  Footsteps—I could hear them—and it wasn’t the man in front of me. No, it was the soft, quick clicks of high heels on cement.

  A moment later, I spotted her. A woman in heels was coming down the alley across from my hiding place.

  He was waiting for her.

  And she could be in danger.

  I didn’t want to blow my cover so soon, but if I didn’t act quickly, the creature could hurt her. I drew my service pistol and stepped out from behind the dumpster.

  Better to be safe than sorry.

  “Don’t move, creep,” I yelled down the alley.

  The man turned toward me and the woman stopped.

  “You led the cops here, you idiot!” The woman turned and ran back the way she had come.

  That was unexpected.

  I approached the fish-man slowly. Once I was close enough that he could see me—that he could see my gun—he shoved his stubby arms into the air. Glad he was going to make this easy. “All right, Crude Crustac
ean, your reign of terrorizing women in dark alleys is over.”

  “Crude...what? What the hell are you talking about?” he croaked, never taking his eyes off of my gun.

  Finally I could scent something besides fish—fear.

  “I’m just a dealer. Look.” He reached for his coat.

  I pulled the hammer back on my weapon. “Easy.”

  He nodded and very slowly opened his trench coat, revealing a row of neon pink fish dangling from the inside by little strings.

  “Well, that explains the smell,” I said.

  “You aren’t the game warden?”

  “No. You...aren’t sporting gills or scales on your neck or your back or something?”

  “Of course not, what kinda question is that?” He scowled at me like I was crazy. He must have been just as confused as I was.

  I sighed and lowered my gun.

  “Since you’ve scared off my client, you don’t happen to want to buy some Bubblegum Killifish? They’re an ultra-rare delicacy.”

  “Endangered?” I asked.

  “Oh yes, because they’re so flavorful.”

  “And illegal,” I said.

  He shifted his feet.

  I holstered my weapon and pinched the bridge of my nose.

  “Get out of here before I call the real game warden.”

  The little man hustled off into the night.

  Out of leads and unsure of where to go next, I wandered the dark alleys and turned to my animal instincts. I closed my eyes, drew in a long breath, and let the scents of the city and the nearby docks mingle. The stink of the man’s rare Bubblegum fish lingered. Too bad those things didn’t smell like bubblegum.

  But there was something else in the air, too. Something that conjured images of the deep sea. Of dark ocean floors and caves leading deeper still. Something inhuman.

  I wasn’t alone.

  My next steps were measured, and I kept my hand ready on my holstered gun.

  There was no one visible in the narrow alley, only trash cans and wet cardboard.

  I listened to the waves lapping gently against cement, to the crying baby a block away, to the rhythmic bass playing in the distance, to the whistle of the wind.

  No movement nearby. Nothing.

  It was quiet—too quiet.

  I considered taking one more loop around before turning it in for the night, when the cardboard ahead of me in the alley burst apart. Boxes tumbled across the path.

  A dark figure dove into me, its shoulder slamming into my gut.

  A glint of moonlight glistened on scaly skin as the creature bowled me over, grazing the side of my ribs with sharp claws.

  I was stunned as I fell flat on my ass. The sea monster was real. And it was fast as hell.

  Cradling my side, I turned and scrambled to my feet.

  There was no sign of the creature behind me.

  Where the hell did it go?

  I rose to my feet and checked my wound. My shirt was torn, as was my skin, but the cut wasn’t deep.

  A wet, slapping sound echoed off the brick walls, but I didn’t see the creature.

  With a quick glance in each direction, I decided it was time to bring my A-game.

  I shucked my clothes and let the tiger free.

  Fur burst through my skin as my bones restructured. My knees buckled and my face grew wide. As a tiger, my vision was clearer, my sense of smell stronger, and I was ready for any fight.

  With one inhalation, I pegged the direction the creature had gone.

  With my fangs, I snatched up my clothes, including my belt with the holstered pistol, and bounded down the alley in tiger form, six hundred fifty pounds of muscle bursting through wooden pallets and steel drums, until I emerged under the streetlights.

  Instinctively, I knew there was no human around to see me like this. Being spotted was always the risk, always the warning in the back of my head during missions inside city limits.

  My eyes followed the distant sound of thumping music to a yacht that was docked about a mile down the coastline.

  There, a dark figure emerged from the water, moving quickly toward the lights and sounds.

  Why had it escaped into the water only to resurface?

  It didn’t matter. I could still catch it.

  I ran down the sidewalk and onto the wooden planks that bordered the water. Docked ships varying in size were lined up along the way. All were dark save for the party boat ahead.

  That had to be where the sea monster was going.

  Sure enough, when I reached the pier where the yacht was docked, I caught a glimpse of the creature shimmying up side of the hull. It wore an oversized cloak, but nothing else as far as I could tell, leaving human-like legs and arms free. Human save for the green skin and fishy scales. And then there were the webbed, clawed feet—those were kind of weird, too.

  I expected the sounds of celebration to change to screams of terror. I expected the sea monster to be noticed as it crashed the party.

  But nothing changed.

  The music played. People talked and laughed and carried on.

  Even if the fish had slipped by unnoticed, I knew I couldn’t do the same. And people would flip if they saw a tiger.

  Hidden in shadow, I shifted back to human form and dressed.

  My shirt had a few teeth marks more than it used to, but I’d looked worse.

  With a smile and my head held high like I belonged there, I strolled up the ramp and onto the ship.

  The yacht was packed to the brim with old dudes and college-aged chicks in tiny bikinis. The women danced among men, some of the guys in fine suits, some in swim trunks. I felt a little over and underdressed at the same time in my jeans and t-shirt. And also strangely too young and too old.

  I took in the scents of the party and was surprised to find there were more than a few shifters among the crowd. Most of them were shifters. Maybe it wouldn’t have mattered if I had attended as a tiger.

  One of the women rubbed herself on my back, then pushed herself in front of me.

  The fake smile plastered on her face melted as she looked me over. “You’re not a boss...are you?”

  I shrugged. “We’re boss on the inside when we do what we love.”

  “Rich?”

  “Nope.”

  Her lip curled and she disappeared into the throng as quickly as she’d appeared.

  Fine with me, I had a monster to catch.

  A scream carried down from the deck above.

  I pushed my way through the crowd and dashed up the spiral staircase. The party continued and no one else seemed to care. Good—let me be the one to find the monster.

  The upper deck was a bit smaller than the first, with fewer people standing around.

  It seemed to be a private party that had been interrupted.

  Women stood in a circle, staring down and gasping, squealing, and crying at each other. I pushed my way between them.

  There was a large hot tub in the center of the floor, filled with a big man floating face down. Blood seeped into the water from under his neck, tinting the bubbling pool a pale pink. A soaked, topless woman was standing to the side, past the crowd, screaming. She was covering her breasts with her arms and her tears weren’t like those of the others. They were real. She cried with fear, she cried from trauma.

  By scent, it was clear the dude in the tub was already dead, and a shifter like me.

  “Where did it go?” I pushed past the other women, and approached the woman who showed more distress than interest.

  She fell to the floor sobbing, her eyes distant. She was in shock, and I was on my own.

  I looked around for the exits. Besides the way I’d entered, there was only one.

  A ladder to the left. It was the only way the creature could have gone—to the roof.

  I shimmied up the ladder and pulled myself onto the slick, white top of the yacht.

  Darkness of the cloudy night fought with the light from below glaring up. Between the haze and the cloak,
the figure before me was hard to make out.

  But it was standing near the edge of the roof.

  I drew my pistol.

  “Don’t fucking move, Fish Face!” I shouted, training my weapon on the cloaked shape. It wasn’t the cleverest of names, but it would do.

  Just for a moment, the clouds broke.

  Moonlight bathed the roof of the yacht as the creature slowly turned its head.

  It was the kind of face that belonged to one of those fish that lived in the pitch black at the bottom of the sea, the kind with giant dead eyes and needle-like teeth that protruded from the dude’s mouth hole. It was the kind of face that made babies cry, the kind of face even a mother couldn’t love.

  And it blinked. In vertical eye slits. Ewww.

  And then, it jumped.

  I ran for the edge of the roof, and my boots slipped on the smooth wet surface. I recovered my balance, but a tiny splash told me I was too late.

  I clambered to the ledge and knelt, careful not to topple into the water after it.

  There was nothing but churning blackness below.

  I couldn’t exactly blame a sea monster for returning to the sea. Probably should have seen that coming.

  I had let it get away. Rose was going to be pissed—more pissed than usual.

  I trudged back down the ladder to the crime scene.

  More people were gathering.

  “Get, get, go on.” I waved my arms, and they just looked at me. A few of the women did as they were told.

  I pulled my phone from my pocket and sent my boss a quick text with the location and situation.

  The Tribunal would need to take care of the cleanup, not just because it was a monster-related death, but because the sorry dead guy was a shifter. His lady friend was still there, crying on the floor. Since she was still topless, I took off my shirt and offered it to her. She took it in her hands but didn’t put it on.