Not Quite Beast

by Kaye Draper

  She huffed. "Clean up the plates."

  I rolled my eyes and did as I was told. I took the opportunity to check out the cupboards and make sure she was still stocked up on necessities. She didn't go into town at all if she could help it, since she couldn't pass as human as easily as me and she refused to put up with the humans' bullshit prejudices. I did a much better job keeping her cupboards and fridge stocked than my own.

  That thought just made me recall all the damned food Angel had snuck into my apartment and I wanted to gut someone.

  "Good to see you looking so hale and happy," she said sarcastically.

  I snorted. "I am happy."

  She laughed and fumbled, patting the countertop to find the spoon she'd dropped. Her vision was getting worse every time I saw her, not that she'd ever admit it. "Don't tell me you finally found a mate to put up with your picky ass."

  I growled at her. "Oh, shut up. You know I'm not shifter enough to hear the mating call, thank the Gods."

  She found the spoon and wiped it off again before putting it away.

  I sighed. "Josie. When are you going to see reason and come live with me in the city?"

  She rolled her eyes and went to get a glass of water, the hard lines worn into her weathered face deepening. "I'm not leaving here, Sam," she said for what had to be the millionth time. "This is where I was born and where I'll die."

  I sighed. I wanted to shake her for being so stubborn. Things were only going to get harder for her as she aged. And her sight was failing at an alarming rate. It would be so much easier if I could just keep her close to me, rather than running out here between jobs, trying to keep this damned rotting cabin in good repair. But I knew she was right. Moving out of the only sanctuary she'd ever known would probably kill the old shifter who'd plucked me out of a river and raised me.

  "I just want to see your craggy old face every day," I said dryly.

  She cackled. "Now that's bullshit."

  I opened my mouth to reply, but a knock on the door interrupted me. I went to answer it, surprised to find a shifter woman standing on the porch. Her scent gave her away, but even if it hadn't, her cat ears and sharp teeth marked her as a full shifter. I leaned against the door frame and regarded her warily. "Cora," I said, crossing my arms over my chest. "What do you want?"

  She tilted her head and gave me a head-to-toe once-over. "Sam. You're looking…alive."

  I smirked. "Sorry to disappoint."

  She held an envelope in her clawed hand, and she tapped the corner against her chin as she regarded me, looking for a way to throw me off. It wasn't that Cora and I actually hated each other. We'd grown up together. But while she was a normal, accepted member of the shifter pack, I was a barely tolerated cur who couldn't shift, couldn't breed, and should have been put down at birth, like my birth mother had tried to do when she tossed me in the river. Cora and I had played together sometimes as kids. But we'd never be equals.

  "Oh!" She said with a smile that almost seemed genuine. "I heard something! There's a doctor in Golding who is working on plastic surgery for shifters. Supposedly he's found a way to negate our natural healing in a way that allows the changes he makes to stick. Isn't that great?"

  I arched a brow at her. "Sounds dangerous and pointless to me." If curs started using plastic surgery to hide their non-human features, humanity was in trouble. And the backlash would only make the paranoia and discrimination worse.

  "But I thought you'd be thrilled," Cora said, honestly confused. "You can get your…problem fixed." She gestured at my body helplessly.

  I sighed. Cora knew I was intersex, since shifter kids often played naked in the mud. She might even mean well with her words. And honestly, a few years back, I might have jumped at the opportunity to be "normal," at least on the outside. But now…I was starting to like who I was. And I'd met someone who accepted all of me.

  Sure, Fin was still careful. And fucking Angel had immediately ruined what I thought was genuine acceptance and love. But still…. I thought it might actually be possible to have a relationship now, just the way I was.

  Which, fuck, why was I even thinking so hard about something so stupid. I didn't need romance in my life. I had a good thing going on. Freedom. A good job. A home of my own. And someone who didn't mind getting me off now and then. What more did I need?

  "Is that letter for Josie?" I asked Cora.

  She shrugged and handed the envelope over. "It's from the alpha."

  I watched the shifter as she jogged away into the woods, toward the center of the pack lands where all the normal shifters lived in their close-knit, if bloodthirsty, little group.

  Knowing Josie wouldn't be able to read the letter, I opened the envelope and started reading.

  "Those fucking assholes," I ground out a moment later, crumpling the letter in my fist.

  Josie came out of the kitchen, glancing at the letter I held. "What is it?"

  I shrugged and painted on an unconcerned expression. "Nothing important. Just a reminder when your next rent payment is due."

  She rolled her eyes and shuffled over to her old recliner. "Fucking leaches," she grumbled. "They know I'm well aware when their damned money is due."

  I nodded and went to the kitchen to toss the letter into the potbellied stove. Then I hugged Josie and headed home.

  I waited until I was on the road to punch the dash and curse at the top of my lungs.

  It seemed the pack thought since I was suddenly able to pay in advance and make repairs to the cabin, they should raise the "rent."

  They'd continue to leave Josie alone and let her live on pack land as long as we paid up. But the "rent" had just doubled.

  "Fuck me," I muttered, mind scrambling to come up with a solution.

  I was going to have to take bigger hunter contracts and go out more often. I could go and argue with the pack alpha, but I knew it would just end with them threatening to throw Josie out altogether. And we'd already established that moving would kill her. I might tease the old bat, but I would do anything to make sure she was safe and happy. Even if I had to work myself to the bone taking shit jobs the rest of my life.

  But there was a more immediate solution, at least for the next round of rent that was due in a few months. I needed to speed up the politician's job. My share of that payout would pay the pack's extortion fees for a couple more months.

  Chapter 8

  I met with Ahura again, surprised when she confirmed not only was her old gang leader involved in Theo's attempted murder, but the guy had even stooped so low as to hire humans to help out, which in Ahura's mind was the ultimate sin. There was something dark driving that woman's bitter hatred toward humans, but I didn't have time to question it. I had shit to do. I hoped her information was sound. She gave us names, descriptions, even directions to the unsanctioned gang's favorite hideout. I just hoped she wasn't screwing us over the way she was screwing over her old gang members.

  It was rushed. Too rushed. And fucking dangerous. But I was on edge. What if the pack decided they needed their money sooner? What if more than Josie's eyes started failing her? I was more aware than ever before of how close to the edge of destitute I lived. I rubbed my face and pulled at my own hair, paced and tried to get rid of this fucking edginess. If I didn't know any better, I'd suspect moon madness. But I was never shifter enough to have to worry about that particular issue.

  Fin and Emerson gave me looks, but they didn't try to stop my crazy ass when I drove us to a punishing pace, my only focus on getting more information on the guys we needed to haul in. Ahura surprised me by volunteering more info than we'd paid her for. Apparently once you crossed her, she showed no mercy—and she wanted one of the assholes we were after to suffer.

  And that was how I found myself with my guild just a week later, closing in on an abandoned church that was little more than a shack. The crumbling edifice was nestled on the edge of Westhold, right up against the flimsy city wall. No peace-loving sky worshiper or homeless drifter would wa
nt to claim a building that close to the wilderness, even if it was unoccupied. But that just made it a perfect meeting place for the unsanctioned gang to meet up before they went out on a hit or a robbery.

  The place had two exits. I was currently eeling my way through the murky half-dark toward the front door, while Emerson took the back, with Fin following along behind him for extra firepower.

  We'd surprise the dumbasses, knock them all out with the flashbang I had in my jacket pocket, then drag them to the new sovereign. Easy. Then I'd take the money I earned and see if I could convince Josie to come stay with me until we could buy our own house. Somewhere far away from the damned shifters. And I'd hogtie Fin and Emerson and take them with me. That way everything I cared about would be safe and sound in one place.

  Even I could tell I wasn't thinking straight. Because my life has never been that easy.

  Shifting—as much as I could—I got my claws out. I leveled my gun at the door, then reared back and, drawing on all my cur strength, kicked the door in.

  I expected more drama. Instead, I was met by one guy who didn't even look concerned. He stood in front of a smoldering trashcan fire, turning to regard me with one eye. The other one had been gouged out long ago, leaving nothing but some puckered scar tissue behind. "Oh, look, it's the pretty little government cur," he said in a snide voice.

  I took in a breath, scenting. This was the ringleader of the group who had ambushed my guild and tried to get Theo killed in the wastelands. Some sort of shifter, judging by the scent. But where were the rest of his people? I growled.

  He let out a short laugh. "Not so fun when the tables are turned, is it, mongrel?" he said with a smirk. Yeah, something wasn't right. Where the fuck were his people? Where were Fin and Emerson? Gods damn it, I wasn't used to hunting people. Beasts were way more predictable.

  I pointed my gun at his knee, but before I could pull the trigger, magic filled the air, rising up around me like the bars of a cage, or the walls of a bubble. I pulled the trigger anyway, but the bullets just hit the barrier and were absorbed.

  The greasy one-eyed asshole laughed. "Well, would you look at that? He said it would work, but I had my doubts." He paced closer. "Even stops bullets." He poked a finger at the damned magic bubble that surrounded me. "Try your claws, cat. I want to see how well this guy's magic really works."

  I snarled at him. Fuck. Who the hell did this guy know who would sell him something as high level and pricey as barrier magic? Just what was Theo really involved in?

  I didn't want to do what one-eye told me, but I also didn't like being stuck in a fucking cage. I didn't take well to being trapped. All the weird restlessness inside me was growing, overwhelming me. I swiped my claws at the shimmering barrier, hissing in fury when it burned my skin, but didn't give way to my strength.

  "Oh, this is perfect," the asshole said, pacing around my cage. "Not only do I get to tell you to fuck off if you think you're just going to waltz in here and drag me off. I also get the added bonus of selling you and your lame bitch posse to the highest bidder. I wonder what your weak, human patron will say when he realizes his hired curs are half-way to the east coast, being raped and eaten by maenads?" He grinned, showing a full two rows of pointed teeth. "This is what you get for siding with the humans, you little bitch. Was the rich little human politician worth selling out your own kind? Hope he was a good lay. Because you're about to get screwed in a lot less pleasant ways."

  I crouched, claws finding purchase on the crumbling stone floor. My beast nature was going wild. Trapped. Sold off. maenads. The human-shaped fiends that ran in wild packs around what had once been Virginia and West Virginia were notorious for fucking, then shredding their victims, not even leaving corpses behind.

  Fin and Emerson.

  If I'd fallen for this stupid trick, that meant Fin and Emerson were probably just as screwed as I was. And that had my beast howling as I slammed my body against the barrier, losing the last dwindling bit of my human reason. The magic tore at me, hit back like a thousand ogre-sized fists, but I kept going, driven by blind animal fury and despair, until I blacked out.

  I woke to darkness, damp, and the smell of dirt and mold. Rough stone scraped against my cheek and my palms as I pushed myself up into a sitting position. My entire fucking body ached from the abuse I'd put it through. I took a few deep breaths, in through my nose and out through my mouth, trying to keep a firm grip on my human side. Giving in to the fiend in my blood never got me anywhere. In fact, if I didn't fucking get control of it, I'd end up on some hunter's kill list. I'd taken out my own fair share of curs who went mad, the human and monster blood not mixing well.

  "Sam?" Emerson's deep voice was a bit raspy, like he'd just woken up himself.

  I kept a grip on my human brain, but called on a bit of my shifter constitution to let me see more clearly in the dark. I was in some kind of cell, probably in the basement of the church. The crumbling stone was older than the city. But the warded, reinforced metal bars and door were definitely a recent add-on. Emerson was in another cell off to my right. And he held a bundle of cloth in his big arms. My heart stuttered in my chest, then kicked like a drunken mule.

  "Fin," I said, scooting closer to the bars. "Is he okay?"

  The half-ogre looked down at his bundle. "I think so? He's just so…tiny. And he got quite a wallop when the stupid trap was triggered. He was standing right on the edge of the circle when it went up. Got knocked back."

  I wanted to grip the bars of my cage and rip them out, but I knew better. They pulsed with magic. And my body was sore enough to remind me what would happen if I ignored that.

  "Are you okay?" I said, trying to tamp down my rising panic. I did not like being trapped. Flashbacks from my childhood swam up, trying to drag me into terror. I shoved the memories away. I wasn't a skinny little kid being tortured by my full-fiend shifter pack. I was an adult. An experienced killer. We'd be fine.

  Emerson let out a sigh. "I'm okay, Sam. I was worried about you. You and Fin were both sleeping like the dead. And…I really hate the dark."

  A smile briefly touched my face at his words. Our big, scary ogre was the gentlest, worst monster I had ever seen. Of course he was afraid of the dark. It made me want to reach out through the bars and touch him, so he'd know he wasn't alone. But of course, I couldn't do that.

  "It's just a nasty basement," I said lightly. "Nothing to be afraid of down here but the spiders. Maybe the odd tsuchigumo. But hey, giant, vampiric spider monsters are still just spiders, right? You could squash them, big guy."

  I wondered, not for the first time, how he managed to get by living in the abandoned building that he shared with the other squatters in his area. I’d offered to let him sleep in the garage, but he had refused to bother me. If we ever got out of here, I was damned sure going to make certain he didn’t have to live in the dark anymore.

  He huffed a laugh. "Don't tell anyone else I'm scared of the dark, Sam. It's bad enough being a 'big dumb ogre' who nerds out and actually uses his brain. I'd never live it down if people knew I had…fears."

  I sighed as I stood and paced around my cell. "The real monsters are the ones who don't fear anything, Em. The rest of us are riddled with insecurities. We just get good at hiding them."

  I ran my hands over the two stone walls of my prison, trying to figure out if they were some sort of bricks, or just solid rock. Surely, the goons who had trapped us would know better than to put us in a cell that could be pulled apart with cur strength, but it never hurt to check.

  "I don't think people are ever as good at hiding their fears as they think they are," Emerson whispered, shifting Fin in his arms so he could lean his back against the stone wall of his own cage.

  I felt his dark eyes on me, and I wanted to crawl out of my own skin. It might be dark in here, and I had no idea what kind of night vision ogres had, but that didn't matter. Emerson saw me. I knew he did. He always saw me. Even when I didn't want to be seen.

  "Maybe you're just t
oo damned perceptive," I snarked, trying to dig my claws into a crevice between the stones. It was useless. I was pretty sure that was a solid wall of boulders. Emerson might be able to move them. If he could even get a grip on them with his big, blunt fingers. And if he had a few months to work on it. Somehow, I didn't think we'd get that much time.

  "I think people are just scared of all the wrong things," Emerson said, dropping his head back to rest on the wall as he gazed up at the dark ceiling. "Like me being afraid of the dark. That's nothing to be afraid of, and I know it."

  I crouched, feeling along the floor to see if there was anything I could use as a prybar.

  "You don't have to be afraid of being who you are, Sam," the irritatingly insightful giant said into the dark. "I like who you are. So does Fin. So does anyone who's ever really gotten to know you, I'd bet."

  I growled in frustration, thankful the dark probably hid my flushed cheeks. "Shut up and find a way out of there," I demanded.

  Emerson didn't respond to my snapping at him. He always used to clam up and get all remorseful when he thought he'd said something to upset me. But, more and more, he was learning to not give a shit. Damn it.

  There was a rustling of fabric and a few muttered curses. Then I heard Fin's rusty voice. "What kind of fucking mucklewit hit me with a fucking wall?"

  I snorted. "We're dumbasses, and we got ourselves caught," I filled in helpfully. "At least you got the nice, warm bed over there. I woke up on the floor." Which…I really hoped that wasn't becoming a habit with me. Waking up on the whorehouse floor last month had been bad enough. Waking up in a cage was even worse.

  Fin huffed, probably embarrassed when he realized Emerson had been holding him like a little baby leprechaun. Some more shuffling, and he stood by the bars of his cage. "This is why you never trust humans, politicians, or weird chicks you pick up at bar fights," he informed me.

  I rolled my eyes. "Says the leprechaun. You sound like that one-eyed asshole upstairs. Where was your stupid luck magic today, huh little guy?"