by Ellie J Duck
It’s a plain room, though nicer than what I had at the Academy. The carpet is a deep shade of cherry red, a useful color for hiding any bloodstains that might result from the jobs I am to do on this team, I note morbidly. There is an unmade queen bed pressed into one corner and I get the feeling it’s been placed that way to allow for a bed big enough for an adult but to discourage keeping any kind of company, which is fair enough really. I don’t see myself going out and picking up a guy to bring him back to the top-secret base where the team of assassins I work with are living.
There is a desk and chair along the opposite wall and a book shelf beside it. The only other feature of the room is a rather impressive and high-end gun safe installed in the corner across from the bed, which makes me smile happily. Attached to the bedroom via an inconspicuous door is a walk-through closet and then my own bathroom.
“So, this is your room for as long as you’re with us. The rest of the team are on the same floor, so you’ll probably run into them eventually. They’re probably mid-shift, right now. You might as well take the time to get your gear unpacked and grab a shower while I check in with the team and warn them that you’re here. I’ll get dinner going too, so when you’re done come back down to the living room, alright?” Summers gives me an encouraging smile as I dump my duffle bags on the floor and set about packing my weapons into my safe.
“No worries. Thanks, Summers,” I grin over my shoulder as I unload my knife collection into the safe before setting about the rest of my unpacking.
∞ ∞ ∞
The first thing I do as soon as I’m alone is jump into the huge shower in my bathroom. After the cramped communal cubicles at the Academy, I might’ve been a little silly about all the extra space in my shower. And while I won’t admit it out loud, I might’ve done some singing and dancing in all that space while I washed my hair and shaved my legs.
As soon as I’m dressed, once again in a clean set of my army issue cargo pants and fitted black t-shirt, I make my way down the hall in search of a laundry room. The whole place still seems deserted but for Summers, who is singing obnoxiously to what sounds like opera music in the downstairs kitchen. He’s obviously forgotten I’m here or is just too used to having rooms that are sound-proof that he’s going for it, and wow! Listening to a grown man trying to hit notes only soprano singers should hit is highly amusing.
“Summers?” I ask, leaning against the wall, clutching my laundry basket since I’ve had no luck locating the wash room on my own. I can’t help but laugh when he jumps in surprise at being caught, spinning, with a wooden spoon in one hand and a blush creeping up those dimpled cheeks.
“Anna?” He clears his throat self-consciously.
“Where’s the laundry?” I ask, still chuckling even as I see the way the spoon that he’s clutching is dripping sauce all over the place while he’s staring at me.
“It’s down that corridor there, third door on the right,” he directs me, pointing to a corridor across the room. “Did you get all your gear unpacked and sorted?”
“Yeah, thanks,” I reply. “What are you cooking?”
“Spaghetti,” he admits, again blushing a little. “We all take turns in the kitchen, so I hope you know how to cook…”
I pale at the idea.
“Erm… Y’all got a barbeque here?” I ask him, knowing that the best I can manage will probably be picnic foods.
“We do,” he nods.
“Then I hope you like barbequed food,” I grin. “Where’s this team of yours that you’ve been bragging about? I’m beginning to think you’ve just dragged me out here and there’s no team to speak of.”
“They’re around. It’s their shift-time, so they’re probably all out in the yard somewhere. They should be back any time now. The smell of dinner will lure them inside.” Summers returns my grin before he goes back to cooking when the pan of sauce begins to spit and overflow.
“Their shift-time?” I enquire nervously, wondering what he means by that.
“Oh… Yeah, about that. The rest of the team are all different breeds of Shifter,” he tells me guiltily, glancing over his shoulder.
“So, then what did you need a little human like me for?” I query, trying to process that idea.
“Honestly, I wanted to make sure you’d be safe from all the beings that are likely to be targeting you when they get wind of the fact that you’re no longer at the Academy and under the protection of Major Deans,” Summers tells me seriously, turning to look at me once more.
“Protection?” I ask, frowning now, my laundry basket digging into my hip uncomfortably.
“Given who and what your father is, he made sure that you would be in an environment where his career wouldn’t interfere with your safety. Deans was your guardian,” Summers tells me, and I begin to think I’m going to go into informational overload.
“That certainly explains why he was always riding me about things,” I say, rather than assessing the notion too closely. I had some vague idea that I was at that school because of Dad’s career as an assassin, so it’s not all that surprising. “Want to tell me why a bunch of supernatural beings would be gunning for my head over Dad’s job?”
“He does what we do, Anna,” Summers tells me. “He hunts down the bad guys and kills them when they break our laws. And as his very human and very vulnerable daughter, he made sure you would be protected while he did his job.”
I nod slowly, even though every word out of his mouth is raising more questions rather than providing answers.
“So, am I actually going to be useful on this team of yours or am I only here because you’re doing a favor for my dad?” I ask a little bitterly, unhappy to learn that maybe he has ulterior motives for asking me here.
“I mean to put you to work, Anna,” Greg Summers smiles at me kindly. “I’ve been keeping an eye on you over the years and you’ll actually be of great use to my team. Your skill with weapons is unrivalled by anyone I know outside of Magnus and since he refuses to leave his squad, you’re the next best in the business. On this team, that weaponry knowledge will mostly be put to work as a sniper. I mean to keep you out of the thick of things when I can, but I’d like to have you on hand as a back-up measure for my team. Sometimes the creatures we go up against are totally unhinged, or too dangerous for close-quarters engagement. If I can take them out from a distance via a well-placed bullet from you, I’ll do it.”
“What about the rest of the team?” I ask. “What roles do they play?”
Summers smiles. “They’re my hunters. They’re on the ground, in the thick of it, flushing out the bad guys, tracking them down in times when they hole up and I can’t access surveillance to find out where they’re hiding.”
“So why did you ask me here now?”
“Because I knew it was your birthday and that you’d sign yourself out of the Academy. And because we’ve been having some issues with Vampires lately. They have the ability to teleport faster than my team can move, so I need someone on hand to fill them with bullets if they get one over on the team.”
“So basically, I’m the back-up?” I clarify.
“That’s right. And don’t scowl at me like that. When you’ve had more training with the team and are up to par to keep up with supernaturals, we’ll revisit the issue on what other responsibilities you can handle while you’re here.”
“Right,” I say, kind of annoyed that I was misled about his motives for asking me here but also just the tiniest bit relieved to know he doesn’t want to throw me in the deep end. Since I get the feeling that while I was top of my class as a human amongst humans, I’m going to be dismally outmatched as a human amidst the supernatural.
Choosing not to focus too much on it for now, I make my way down the hall and locate the laundry, dumping all my dirty clothes into it and setting it to wash. The smell of the pasta is beginning to make me hungry; I skipped lunch while I was signing out of school and they didn’t have any food on the plane here. As I head back out into t
he living room, thinking I might be able to help Summers out by straining pasta or something, I stop dead in my tracks at the sight of a very large, very furry, brown grizzly bear lumbering into the living from a different hallway. Its nose is twitching as it picks up the scent of food.
My heart starts to pound in fear and surprise, a spurt of adrenaline bursting through me as I slowly reach for the handgun strapped to my belt, un-holstering it easily and flicking the safety off.
“Summers,” I say quietly, not wanting to draw the attention of the bear but needing to get the attention of my supervisor. He’s unaware of the threat since he is still humming along to the music. I have my gun trained on the bear and I’m hoping to high heaven that whatever the things are this team hunts, this bear is among them because I’m ready to put the intruder down.
“Did you find it alright?” he asks spinning toward me before seeing that I have my gun out. “Holy shit! Cane, no!” he says, jumping forwards and startling the bear.
The ferocious growl it emits even as Summers hurries around the bench and puts himself between my gun and the bear has my finger tightening on the trigger.
“Lower the weapon, Cane! Brody, shift back now before she shoots you!” Summers begins barking orders. The bear growls and when its big paws take hold of Summers and lift him out of the way of my gun, I stare in disbelief.
“You really need better security if you’ve got wild animals just wandering in here, Summers,” I tell the man, my gun still raised on the bear.
“He’s not a wild animal, he’s one of the squad! Put down the gun!” Summers orders me.
As I watch, the bear stands on its hind legs and then the air around it seems to ripple with energy before the fur and the claws and the muzzle melt away, leaving a slightly goofy looking, yet fierce man standing in its place. His hair is the same as it looked when he was a bear, brown and slightly coarse. He’s easily six feet four and at least three hundred and fifty pounds. He’s also naked. And let me tell you that is a whole lot of rippling, delicious muscle for one bear-man to be sporting.
I’ve spent my life around well-muscled meat-heads and soldiers but the muscles on this guy are chiseled and ripped, defined in a way that makes me want to run my fingers over him just to feel each toned bump whilst trying not to drool.
“What’s with the human?” a growly voice comes from within him and I realize that he’s addressing Summers, eyeing me suspiciously while I’ve been focusing on how pretty he looks naked.
“Easy, Cane, put down the gun,” Summers instructs. “Brody, this is Agent Anna Cane. She’s Special Agent, Magnus Cane’s daughter, fresh from the military academy and the newest addition to our squad.”
“Oh… Why does she have a gun pulled on me?” Brody asks, absently scratching his chest and not looking at all concerned by the fact that he’s totally naked.
“Her clearance only came through today and I didn’t warn her about you,” Summers replies. “For God’s sake, Cane, lower the weapon! This is Agent Brody Morgan, Bruin, or werebear, and part of my team.”
I lower the gun slowly, still eyeing the werebear cautiously.
“I’m not shaking your hand while you’ve got it all hanging out like that Agent Morgan, just FYI,” I say when he slowly extends his hand toward me in greeting. He glances down at himself.
“Oh, yeah…” he mutters. “I’ll… uh… get some pants.”
I can’t help but chuckle when he turns with as much dignity as one can muster when suddenly finding themselves naked before a total stranger, and climbs the stairs, disappearing into the room closest to my own door. I am just about to open my mouth to cuss Summers for not warning me about the fact that one of his team members is a werebear and might be wandering about looking like a bear, when a blur of motion to my left draws my attention.
The roar of the pair of big cats bounding toward me is all it takes for the situation to go from handled to extreme in seconds.
“No!” Summers shouts even as I raise the gun and pull the trigger, stopping the lion bounding toward me in his tracks with a bullet to the shoulder. The cat yowls in pain and Summers starts shouting while the Bengal tiger skids to a stop beside its fallen buddy as the lion goes down.
“Fuck! What happened?” Agent Brody Morgan shouts as he comes bursting back out of his bedroom still buttoning his jeans.
“Damn it, Cane!” Summers shouts at me as he hurries over to the wounded lion.
“What the hell is wrong with you, newbie?” Brody demands as he leaps over the bannister of the upstairs floor where the rooms are and drops to the living room as though it’s nothing.
“I didn’t expect an attack from an Asiatic lion and a Bengal tiger when I came down for dinner is what’s wrong with me,” I answer, shaking, as I holster my gun before I can do any more damage.
Brody stares at me in shock for a moment when he fails to detect any kind of apologetic tone in my voice over what I’ve done.
“Damn, Summers!” he comments. “Where did you get this girl? She’s cold!”
“Her father’s the best sniper in the world. What did you expect?” Summers retorts sarcastically. “And Mitch, quit with the drama! You’re not going to get any sympathy from Cane, so you might as well just shift and force the bullet back out of your skin.”
The lion, which up until now has been yowling like crazy, instantly stops making noise and instead begins to ripple and blur like Brody did. Suddenly there is a very naked, very golden-skinned, blond man with the coolest hair I’ve ever seen sitting on the floor. His skin is morphing and reforming, healing before my eyes as the slug I just fired into him is forced back out of his shoulder. He is long and lean, and just as naked as Brody was.
“This is how you greet people?” the blond man asks, and I quirk an eyebrow when he sounds amused rather than pissed that I just shot him.
“Pretty much,” I shrug unapologetically whilst internally reeling at the way his flesh is knitting back together, leaving only a bloodstain as evidence that I just shot him. “You’ve got some cool hair.”
“Oh, tell me you didn’t?” Brody groans at that while the lion beams with happiness and an air of smugness I’ve not seen on anyone in a long time. It’s almost arrogant, and I find myself thinking of the king of the jungle he’s just transformed from.
“Now we’ll never get him to shut up about his damn mane!” A female voice adds to the sound of groaning and complaining, and I raise my eyebrows when I spot a Bengali girl with long orange and black striped hair sitting on the floor, just as naked as the werelion.
“All bow before the mighty mane!” Mitch shouts, getting to his feet and moving toward me. Dear Lord, do they all have to be so ripped to perfection? Even the girl is seriously ripped. She has broad shoulders and a long, lean body, all of it coiled with well-honed muscle.
I’ve never felt weak around anyone, except maybe my Dad because the man is huge, but as I look around the room, I get the feeling I’m going to be the weakest link within this group. And given the fact that the lion just forced a bullet back out of his skin without breaking a sweat, I’m beginning to feel seriously uneasy with this lot. Of course, all of that is momentarily forgotten when said werelion bounds toward me in all his golden, naked glory and throws his arm around my shoulders.
“Hiya, Cane. I’m Mitch. So, you like my mane, huh?” he says, practically oozing sex-appeal and superiority while somehow seeming kind of endearing all at the same time, in that way that only cats can.
“You’re getting blood on me,” I point out since the blood from the bullet wound is still sticky on his skin and I can’t think beyond the nakedness of the man all snuggled up to me.
“It’s payback for shooting me in the first place. You kind of want to touch my mane, right?” Mitch says cheerfully.
“Uh, not while you’re human and naked,” I reply, unnerved by how enthralling he is when standing so close to me. I’m only human here, people!
“I can shift back if you want to run your hand
s through my mane. I don’t even mind,” Mitch offers before he removes his arms from around me, steps aside, and shifts right back into a six-hundred-pound lion right there at my feet.
“I’d apologize for him,” Summers says, meeting my confused gaze with amusement. “But this is actually Mitch on a good day.”
That’s right around the time Mitch butts his big lion head against my stomach, grunting in what I suspect is a clear order to scrub my hands through his mane.
“You’re a freak, you know that, right?” I tell the lion who is looking up at me hopefully. I can’t help but chuckle before I give in and drag my hands through the thick mane all over his head, neck and chest. It’s gold at the top and darkens to brown and almost black on his chest and shoulders.
He makes a sound of what I assume is contentment when I dig my nails into the thick hair, unable to resist the urge to do so. Because really, what girl can resist the urge to play with the thick mane of a huge lion without the fear of being mauled?
“You’re only going to encourage him,” Brody tells me, laughing as Mitch moves closer, clearly hoping to be scratched everywhere.
“I did shoot him, so it seems only fair,” I shrug, still scratching the lion in front of me. The tiger girl has retreated in search of clothes and Brody drops into one of the couches, still laughing. “Summers, you know the pasta is boiling over, right?”
“Oh, sod it!” he curses, going back to the stove hurriedly and turning it off. “Brody, where’s Tobias?”
I glance around before realizing that there is still one team member missing.
“He smelled a human. Where do you think?” Brody retorts as he turns on the TV and begins flicking channels.
“He’s still going on with all that?” Summers asks, looking frustrated now about something I’m not privy to.
