by T. S. Joyce
“You look tired,” he grumbled, straightening his spine. “Like…really tired.”
She let off a laugh and pulled the blanket around her shoulders tighter. “Thanks a lot. With compliments like those, I don’t know how I’ll be able to maintain my low self-esteem and minimal self-worth.”
He didn’t know how to respond.
“That was a joke,” she whispered. “I’m actually feeling…” She looked around and lifted her chin higher. “I’m actually feeling hopeful today. I made friends with a mouse last night.”
He snorted. “You need friends? You can have the damn mouse in my trailer too. What are you doing out here? It’s early and cold.” God, why was he this awkward at speaking to the human? It was probably just because he was running on very little sleep. Yep, that had to be it. He didn’t get rattled by humans.
A long growl rattled from him, and he pursed his lips, waited for the woman to run screaming for her trailer. God had a sense of humor though, because he’d thrown a human with no survival instincts onto the doorstep of a monster. She didn’t even flinch back.
Instead, a slow smile stretched her lips—the first he’d seen from her, and good Lord, it transformed her face into something bewitching. His breath froze in his chest, and he couldn’t rip his gaze off the curve of her lips if he tried.
She was stunning. Clear green eyes boring into him, high cheekbones, full lips, and long lashes that kissed her cheeks when she ducked her gaze away from him. Her cheeks went all rosy, and in the soft morning breeze, her hair brushed her face.
He didn’t have much of a heart left, but if he did, it would be beating harder right now.
He cleared his throat and ripped his gaze from her. “I used to build decks with my family. I don’t know why I just told you that.”
“Wooden decks?” she asked, curiosity in her pretty voice.
“Wood, stone, brick, anything.”
“Why don’t you work with them anymore?” she asked.
Any answer he gave would make her ask more questions he couldn’t stomach, so he just shook his head.
“Why are you here?” she asked.
“Because I need something to protect.” He shrugged a shoulder up and offered her a careless smile. “It’s protect something, or kill everything. No more digging. Do you want to go or what?”
She looked startled and looked around the woods, still immersed in darkness. “Go where?”
“I need supplies.”
Trina shifted her weight from side to side and cast a longing look at her trailer. From here, he could see the exact shape of the birthmark down her face. Even though she had put some make-up on it, he could still make it out. It started thicker under her eye and then tapered down to nothing as it reached her neck. Unique. He liked it. Liked the way it made that eye look even brighter, with the dark color around it.
She was hesitating though, and he didn’t want her to feel pressured.
“You don’t have to come. No skin off my back,” he murmured, and made his way to his truck.
“It’s just that I don’t have the right clothes on. I’m still in my pajamas. Can I change if I do it really fast?”
Oh. “Yeah. Make it quick.”
“Also, can I ask you another question?”
“No.”
“Can I buy you breakfast? And also myself some breakfast? I’m really hungry.” She gave him a bright grin that lit up the dark. “Don’t worry, I’m minding your rules. No more digging. You can tell me your life story slow if you want.”
Okay, she was sassy and he liked seeing that little spark in her. That wicked grin and molecule of humor made her more interesting.
“Don’t hold your breath, lady. It’s a boring-ass story that no one needs to hear.”
“Thank God, I can’t handle boring-ass stories anymore,” she quipped as she made her way back to her trailer. “I want donuts.”
Nuke waited until she was all the way inside and her door was closed before he jogged to his truck and mussed his hair in the window reflection. Dawn was creeping across the trailer park, and it was getting lighter out by the minute. He messed his crop of hair over one way, and then the other before he gave up completely. With a growl of frustration, ran his hands all through it and then gave his reflection a middle finger.
Who cared what his hair looked like?
She was here until Friday.
Trina was human. Humans died too easily.
He would eat her in one bite.
Chomp, chomp, girl, stop getting my attention.
Chapter Five
Trina was frazzled. She had two layers of lip gloss on, and probably three to four layers of deodorant because she was rushing. Nuke had looked so good all sleepy in the morning, and he invited her somewhere, and she couldn’t remember what personal hygiene tasks she’d checked off the to-do list, so she kept repeating them just to make sure.
She had nothing to wear. What?
Trina skidded across the mushy floors in her socks and stared at her open suitcase. It looked like a bomb had gone off in it. She had nothing to wear? Really? Get it together, self. He’s just a boy. A scary, powerful, polite-ish, hot-as-hell, I-want-to-see-his-abs-and-run-my-hands-through-his-hair boy. No big deal.
A muumuu would do right about now because she was here on a mission, and could not afford to be affected by sexy growls in a certain shifter’s throat.
She had a good guess as to what he was. She’d heard the rumors, and now, being near him, she could smell it—the faint scent of smoke clung to him.
Hot. Hot. Hot.
Feeling less psychotic after her mental pep talk, she calmly shoved her legs into her favorite skinny jeans, pulled on her only clean tank top, and then her hoodie over it. A pair of sneakers later, and she was ready for her donut date. Donuts. It wasn’t a date. Ha. Hahaha. Everything was fine.
Focus. You are supposed to gather intel.
If Manning knew that Nuke was in this Crew, he would push the council to go after them faster. Manning was a weasel, but he was a smart weasel. He knew the value in destroying a tree before its roots took hold. This Crew was fledgling, still building up, and each member had no reason, other than a little Crow War, to be bonded to each other. Loyalty was the most important trait in a Crew, but it could also be the most dangerous.
Nuke’s existence in this Crew, in this town, in this state, hell, in this country, would bring down the wrath of anyone who wanted this Crew snuffed out immediately.
Or…if Manning was the smartest weasel, he would learn of Nuke’s existence here and leave this Crew the fuck alone. Smart crows survived longer. Not that she particularly wished that for Manning. The faster he croaked, the faster his talons around her throat loosened.
On second thought, maybe he should mess with Nuke.
He was already in his truck, waiting for her behind the wheel. She adjusted her purse on her shoulder self-consciously as she caught his attention on her. When she made her way around the other side of the truck, her door was already open for her.
Huh. He was a very polite monster.
She climbed up into the cab and shut the door behind her. “Before we go, I need you to assure me of one thing.”
“What?” he ground out.
“Am I safe in this small space with you? I value my life.”
“I don’t know what you think I am—”
“Even if you’re just a tiger shifter, am I safe?”
His eyes narrowed to slits. “Has someone made you feel unsafe?”
“Just answer the question. I’m hungry for a chocolate covered donut with sprinkles.”
“You’re safe with me today.”
She hadn’t missed that last word. He’d given her a timeline. Maybe he didn’t need to change today. There had been an honest note to his deep timbre when he’d uttered the words, You’re safe though, and that had to be good enough for her.
“Okay.”
His longer hair was sticking up all over the place, and she b
it back a smile. “You look like you stuck a fork in a light socket.”
“With all these compliments, something something something, low self-esteem something…”
She laughed and twisted in her seat to grab the seatbelt, but she totally caught him hurriedly fixing his hair in the rearview mirror.
He was pretty damn cute.
Trina clasped her hands in her lap and looked straight ahead as he drove them down the twisting dirt roads that led them out of Krome’s territory.
“What kind of music do you like?” he grumbled.
“Oh, I’m good with anything,” she said politely.
One sideways glance was all she got before he turned the radio dial to an opera station.
“Anything but opera.”
He chose another station.
Trina snorted. “And elevator music.”
“Country it is.” He turned the dial to a station playing a song she actually recognized.
There wasn’t any help for it, she tapped her foot with the catchy rhythm, and as the minutes passed, she relaxed into the leather seat.
“So how did you meet Krome?” she asked conversationally.
“We grew up together. Our moms laid eggs at the same time and we hatched a few days apart. We’ve been best friends ever since.”
“Really?”
“No. Babies don’t hatch from eggs. I don’t even know him. I just met him a few weeks ago when I heard he was putting together a Crew.”
“And you were looking for a Crew?”
“No.”
Okaaaay. “Then why did you try out for it?”
“Because of the Banes.” His dark eyebrows drew down, and he reached forward and turned up the volume on the radio.
The Banes? The three bear shifters Krome’s old Murder was supposed to keep under control? The bears Krome had allied himself to instead?
“Why do you care about the Banes?” she asked loud enough to be heard over the old crooner country song that had come on.
“I don’t care about anyone.”
“That can’t be true.”
He didn’t answer, so she tried again. “What is it about the Banes?”
He drove for a minute without saying a word, so she took the hint. This man was a closed book. If he didn’t want to talk, he simply wouldn’t. And what right did she have to push him into conversations he didn’t want to have? They were strangers. Plus, the less she knew, the less ammunition she had to betray him with.
He turned onto the main drag in the small town before he spoke again. “The Banes were hated by everyone. Their entire shifter species was. They were supposed to disappear and make the world a better place, but look what they did. They lived. And the world is fine. They’re building and they’re happy, and they’re actually decent people. They’ve never been given a chance to prove they’re decent people. And the world? It’s still turning. I guess I’m attracted to people who shouldn’t exist, but who do it anyway.”
“You want to protect them?” she whispered.
“Yes.”
“Do they know?”
“I had brothers. Three brothers. Tovlin, Lev, and Donathan. They should still exist, but it’s just me. The Banes should still exist. Now they will.”
Chills rippled up her spine. Nuke was here for good. His intentions were good. “And the rest of Krome’s Crew?”
“I’ll protect the Banes’ protection too. What the fuck else do I have to do? Gotta pick something to live for. War sounds like as good a thing as any.”
“I don’t think you’re living for war, Nuke. I think you’re living for love.”
“That’s a bullshit fantasy romance novel answer, Trina. You’re wrong. Love doesn’t exist. A mating bond exists. Shifters should absolutely stay for it because it’s genetically ingrained in us to find a partner and procreate so our species can live on. A shifter should never leave a mating bond. Shatter that tether and you can destroy a shifter. But love? It’s just a notion you humans come up with to justify settling down with a partner. There’s no science to it. You learn it when you’re young, with drawing hearts and watching sappy movies, and you are trained to write romantic poems and spend money on gifts. But that word makes it okay to put up with a hundred red flags and tether yourselves to some idiot who doesn’t match you. They can act however they want, and you’ll stay because you ‘love’ him.”
“Geez, Nuke. You sound like you got hurt.”
“I tried it once a few years ago with a human. I was in a bad spot, felt alone and was desperate to just be happy, and I took a girl out. Made myself open up to her and let her in, and stayed way too long because she’d explained what love was. She made it sound so damn perfect. I wanted it. And for a few months, it did feel perfect, but she made me soft. She got unhappy because I couldn’t be everything I was supposed to be. The more I tried, the more I failed, and the more she pulled away. Rejection made my control slip, and that relationship got me to a bad place. Got her nowhere, too. She was happy to leave, and at the end of it, I looked back and realized she didn’t even fuckin’ know me. She couldn’t. I can’t allow it, so what’s the point of it all? Perfection for a few months and then hell?”
Ooooh, he had been hurt. Tough man, but he’d just admitted more than he realized. He’d tried, and the relationship had crumbled, and it had jaded his view on love. He’d separated the ideas of love and shifters’ mating bonds, like they were from two separate worlds. Trina had been burned too, but she still wanted to believe in it, even if a bond never happened for her. “That’s not the love I was talking about, Nuke.”
He cast her a look, and his dark eyes swirled with confusion.
“You loved your brothers.” Her eyes pricked with emotion. “It’s very sad that you lost them, but if you didn’t love them, you wouldn’t be trying to protect a family that reminds you of them.”
“The Banes aren’t like my brothers. Not even close. No one is. No one was. No one ever will be.” A long snarl rattled in his throat, and she saw it for the first time. She saw the monster. It was in the silver, elongated pupils that appeared in the middle of his dark irises. There he was, just a glimpse. It was enough to remind her where she stood in this pecking order.
He turned into a parking lot for a donut store that had the lights on and a blue neon sign that said Open.
He threw the truck into park, and sat there with his hands gripped onto the steering wheel. He hummed with tension. She’d done that. It was her style to step on every trigger with people. Why did she do that? What was the freaking point of pushing people? Why couldn’t she just be normal and have a fun ice-breaker conversation? She always did this backward.
“I agree with you,” she murmured. “Love didn’t work for me either. I think some people are born with a harder destiny to bear. Some people are cursed to deeply understand love, but to never find it. And some people are cursed to find love, but never truly appreciate it. No one can ever get to know me either.”
“Why not?” he popped off. “What’s so bad that you can’t share yourself with someone?”
She huffed a breath and tried to smile. “Because you were wrong about something else too, Nuke.”
“And what’s that?”
She opened the door and slid out of his truck. And before she shut the door behind her, she told him, “I’m not human.”
Chapter Six
Nuke was careful to pull the donut shop door open as gently as he could. He’d learned at a very young age that his power would have broken every door that he ever touched, and shop owners didn’t change out broken glass doors without making a big stink. The less attention on him, the better.
“Holy balls, we’ve got a big one, girls.”
Nuke had been looking at Trina as she stood at the counter looking in the glass cases at the donuts lined up on red trays, but the older woman’s voice filled his head.
Three ladies in fancy green hats sat at a table in the corner, and all three were staring right at him.
&
nbsp; Great.
“Mornin’ ladies,” he said, tipping an imaginary hat.
“Boy, I haven’t swooned since I was fifteen, don’t make me lose it now,” one called out.
“Yeah, she’ll throw another hip out,” her friend said, and then cackled.
Nuke chuckled and made his way to the counter beside Trina.
“I bet you have crushes on you wherever you go.” Trina’s lips were curved up into that smile he liked. Thank God. He hadn’t liked upsetting her in the truck.
“I get defensive,” he said low. “It’s not you.”
“You don’t trust me,” she said. “I don’t blame you, and good. Don’t trust me. I’m trouble.”
Whooo, there was truth in that admission. Why did that pique his interest more?
He clasped his hands behind his back and straightened up to look at the trays of donut holes lined up against the back wall. “Maybe I like trouble.” Especially if it was shifter-shaped trouble.
A man was ordering enough donuts to feed the small army of children he was explaining were having a slumber party at his house for his daughter’s birthday. It was such a normal conversation to listen to after their charged one in the truck.
What was Trina? If she wasn’t human, what kind of shifter was she? He’d pegged her wrong, and that was a first for him. But…just like he kept his monster a secret, she had every right to live her life looking like a human. Maybe she was a swan. Her submissive personality and curious nature would back that one. Or a rabbit perhaps. Something smaller. Probably not a predator shifter.
“You don’t smell like fur,” he pointed out, unable to help his curiosity.
“And neither do you,” she said with a wink.
Hmmm. Did she know what he was? Most of him hoped not, but a teeny tiny part of him hoped she did.
“I don’t smell like anything you would recognize or guess at,” she said quickly as the worker behind the counter approached them to take the order.
Trina started ordering, and now Nuke was staring at her pretty profile like a creeper. What the hell was she? Besides gorgeous, and plenty capable of getting under his skin with zero effort?
