Suave as Shift

by Keira Blackwood

  “What you really want to know is how you’re in here now.”

  I shrugged. “Sure.”

  “And what’s to stop you from coming back if I share my secret?” Her big white eyes fluttered open.

  “You think I want to come back here?” I asked.

  “You keep returning,” she said.

  “It’s not because I want to.”

  “Then why?” she asked. “You’ve already been given your answer.”

  “What?

  “I told the girl.”

  “Juliana?” I tried to remember what she’s relayed on our drive home after our first trip to this damned trailer.

  “I did no harm. There is no curse.”

  “You mean the hex bags?” I asked.

  “Binding, not hex,” she said.

  “So what do you think is to blame? An incubus?” I asked.

  “No. Not with a male under the spell,” she said. “The sheriff’s boy.”

  That made sense. Incubuses went after women. Maybe this one was different, and liked women and men. Why not?

  “What you seek cannot see.”

  “What is that supposed to mean?” I asked. This woman liked to speak in riddles, my guess was to make it confusing. Purposefully confusing.

  “Your ride has arrived.” Gravel crunched outside, brakes squeaked.

  “You don’t get off that easy,” I said. “Give me a real answer.”

  She laughed. “You think you decide what happens here, little kitten? No.”

  She shooed me with her hand.

  I opened my mouth to object, but something strange happened before any words came out.

  My feet moved without my permission, not in steps but like ropes were tied to my ankles, ropes attached to a moving vehicle.

  Shit.

  “Wait.” I grabbed the walls at the threshold. The beaded curtain clanked as I stopped between rooms. “Don’t do this.”

  Her grin spread from ear to ear.

  The force on my feet ripped my legs back, knocking me flat on my chest. My fingers slipped from their hold on the walls. I scrambled for leverage, but the surface was too slick.

  Through the trailer, I was pulled along the rough, black carpet, until the door flung open. With it, I was thrown onto the porch, and released.

  I rose to my feet and dusted the dirt from my suit.

  “Don’t come back,” she said.

  “You know, you could use some manners yourself, lady. You’re welcome for carrying your sorry ass in from the woods, staying the night to offer protection.”

  She didn’t answer, so I turned to go.

  Halfway down the steps, I heard her voice.

  “It has no eyes.”

  Weirdo. I climbed in the cab, dismissed the witch from my thoughts, and focused on the next problem I had to solve. What was I going to do about Juliana?

  The long cab ride should have been enough time to come up with a plan. But I was standing on Juliana’s porch, staring at the door, with nothing. Nada. No plan whatsoever.

  Winging it was probably not the best move, but it was the only one in my arsenal.

  Could it really be called an arsenal if it was just the one non-plan?

  It didn’t matter. I had to fix this, and fast. There was no leaving a human with knowledge of shifters. Either Juliana accepted me as her mate and swore to uphold the secrecy of our kind, or I had to call for Lola. I didn’t want to call Lola. I wanted Juliana to remember me, and I needed her to be mine.

  I knocked.

  The door opened, and Juliana stepped into view.

  She was as gorgeous as ever in jean shorts and a green tank top. But what hit me hardest wasn’t her beauty, but the flood of manly emotion that pulsed through my veins.

  Relief, nervousness, affection.

  She threw her arms around my neck, pressing her body to mine. The scent of grape bubblegum fogged my brain like a cloud of euphoria. I breathed her in, held her soft body to my chest, and decided it was best to never let go.

  “I’m so glad you’re here,” she said.

  “Me, too.”

  I rested my chin on the top of her head, on her silken hair. She was the perfect size.

  “I’m sorry about last night,” she whispered.

  “You didn’t do anything wrong,” I said. “That wasn’t fair of me. I shouldn’t—”

  “I shouldn’t have run.” She pulled back and looked up at me. Her blue eyes sparkled like endless pools, calling to me to lose myself in their depths.

  “It’s understandable,” I said.

  “It happened, didn’t it?” she asked. “You changed into a tiger.”

  “I did,” I said. “I do.”

  “And that’s just something you do?” Her tone made it seem like the whole conversation was normal. Like shifting was the same as biting nails—just something someone did.

  “No,” I said, raw and exposed to her judgement, desperate for her acceptance. “It’s who I am.”

  “How does it work?” she asked.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Tell me everything.” Her eyes followed something down the street, by the sound of it a bicycle. “Inside.”

  She took my hand and led me into the living room.

  There was a sofa and a recliner, both turned toward a fireplace. The room had an intimate, classic, masculine feel. Juliana took a seat and I followed her lead.

  Our fingers remained linked together on the sofa between us. She looked at me expectantly, warmly, waiting for me to speak. This was it, my chance. My only chance.

  “Shifters are just like other people, except they can shift.” Wow, even I knew that was bad.

  Juliana waited, watching me, listening without judgment. I was lucky she was so patient. I was lucky to have her.

  “There are a whole lot of us out there.” Still pretty terrible.

  “Are you born with the ability to shift?” Juliana asked.

  “Yes. Well, I mean it’s in the genes. Once a shifter becomes an adult, he or she can shift. Kids are kids.”

  “What else is different?” she asked.

  “We heal faster than other people, and we’re stronger.”

  “Strong enough to lift a car.”

  The other night at Milly’s Diner, she’d seen me do just that. It had been a rare oversight on my part.

  “Just the corner,” I said.

  She nodded, and looked down before meeting my gaze again.

  “Can you change into anything you want?”

  “You mean like a sports car?” I asked.

  “Uh, I guess.”

  “Nope, no sports cars. Just the tiger.”

  “Can I see it?” A gentle blush crossed her cheeks. “Can I see you turn into the tiger? I want a do-over.”

  “Hell yes.”

  Without hesitation, I let go of her hand and stood.

  Excitement pumped through my veins. She wanted to see the tiger. She wanted me to strip.

  Nudity didn’t have to be sexy, not for shifters, but Juliana wasn’t a shifter.

  First came the shoes and socks, toed off one at a time. Then the jacket, and with slow deliberation, the buttons of my shirt.

  Her expression was subdued, but I could hear her heart race faster with every inch of skin revealed. She squeezed her hands together in her lap as if she had to restrain herself from touching, and her scent was sweetest of all, with a hint of desire.

  I dropped my shirt, and unzipped my pants, letting the fabric fall to the floor. Only one article of clothing remained—my boxers.

  “Enjoying the show?” I grinned my sexiest grin, and pulled slowly at the hem of the black elastic.

  Juliana nodded.

  “I feel like I should have brought dollars to throw at you.” She chuckled softly, a pleasant sound.

  And I dropped the last of my clothing.

  She took her time savoring every inch of my muscled bod. Who wouldn’t? I was chiseled granite, a marble god, but with a bigger cock.


  “Ready?” I asked.

  She nodded, but I could see the tension all over her. She was nervous.

  “I’ll be gentle.” I winked, and she smiled. Then I called to the tiger.

  Bones cracked and reformed as I took on a form just as badass as my human shape. Thirteen feet long and weighing in at an impressive six hundred pounds of pure muscle, I was agility and speed, strength and power. The tiger was a force to be reckoned with. Sharp teeth, huge paws, and huger claws, I could take on any manner of monster or beast when I had the power of the tiger. But this was a challenge altogether different, all that more difficult. I had to show Juliana the truth, without scaring her away.

  Her eyes were big, and she’d drawn her legs up onto the sofa, but she hadn’t run. It was a start.

  I wanted to go to her, to prove to her that I wasn’t so scary. That I was no threat, not to her. Instead, I stayed in place, and sat down on my hind legs. Better to let her come to me, better not to put her on the defensive. And she did come.

  She stood and slowly stepped closer.

  I lowered my head and nudged her fingers with my nose.

  She smiled.

  “You’re so big.”

  That’s what she said. Too bad I couldn’t speak to her in a way Juliana would understand. I’d have to show her what I wanted to say, minus the jokes.

  She touched the top of my head, fingers trailing down my back.

  In response, I let out a soft purr.

  Juliana jumped, pulling her hand away. Oops.

  “Is that supposed to be a nice growl?” she asked.

  If tigers could laugh, I would have. Instead, I nuzzled her thigh.

  She giggled and placed her palm on the top of my head.

  “Thanks for showing me,” she said.

  She took a step away, telling me she’s seen enough.

  I shifted back to human form.

  “That was…”

  “Awesome, spectacular, mind-blowing,” I offered.

  “Yeah,” she said. “I was thinking...crazy.”

  “Hmm, crazy. Not so sure about that word.”

  Her eyes weren’t playful. There was something else there, a sadness.

  “Are you afraid of me?” I asked.

  I was afraid, too. Afraid of her answer.

  “What? No.”

  Relief washed over me, but it was tempered by the fact that there was still something she was holding back.

  “Then what’s wrong?”

  “It’s not you,” she said.

  I’d heard that one before. It’s not you, it’s me. From Juliana, rejection wasn’t just disappointing, it was crushing. Like tearing my heart from my chest, ripping it to little pieces, then stomping the crap out of the vulnerable little scraps.

  “It’s Emily.”

  “Oh.” Not at all what I’d expected.

  “I went to visit her, and she’s doing worse. They’re all doing worse.”

  “What do you mean, worse?” I asked.

  “Their pulses dropped, blood pressure too. It happened all at once, to all four of them. Everything was okay, and then it wasn’t. I sat there, waiting. But they still don’t have any answers. For now, she’s stable.”

  “I’m so sorry,” I said. The fact that it was all of them at once was further confirmation that it was something supernatural, something affecting them still.

  “Me, too. I just wish there was something more that I could do. I mean, I thought that Madam Melphini was going to be it. We’d found our lead and we were going to find answers. I had this hope that everything was going to be okay.”

  “It will,” I said. Why’d I say that? I couldn’t promise that.

  “You can’t know what will happen,” she said. Then her eyes narrowed. “You can’t, right?”

  “See the future? No,” I said. “But I do know we’re not out of options.”

  “How’s that?”

  “It’s promising that the four coma patients are showing the same symptoms at the same time. That doesn’t sound like coincidence. Plus, Madam Melphini said the creature responsible has no eyes. And we have a whole library about the supernatural at our fingertips.”

  “Madam Melphini’s crazy,” Juliana said.

  “No, no she’s not.”

  “She’s not?”

  “No,” I said. “She’s a witch, and definitely not crazy.”

  “All right,” Juliana said. “I’ll work on processing that later. Now we need to get to work. But first, I’m going to need you to put on your pants.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Juliana

  With piles of books stacked all around me, I flipped through the thick volume in my lap. It felt just like the last time we were searching my father’s library for clues and getting to know each other. But this time I did know Lincoln, I knew the part of him he’d held back, and I was drawn to him even more because of it.

  Shifters. Paranormal boyfriends were real, just like in the romance books I read, and I was toeing the line of having one of my very own.

  Lincoln was in my periphery, stealing my attention, even when I tried to keep my eyes on the book I was skimming. I watched the way he stretched, the little wrinkle that formed between his brows while he read. Little things could be so endearing when the bigger picture had come into focus.

  “Does your job have to do with being a shifter?” I asked.

  He looked up at me, eyes wide. The look softened and he smiled.

  “It does,” he said. “I’ll tell you all about it, but you have to swear to never tell a soul.”

  “Pinky swear.”

  I held out my pinky, and he accepted.

  “I’m holding you to it,” he said. “It’s not just my rule, but a Tribunal rule.”

  “I never break a pinky swear,” I said.

  “Good.” Lincoln leaned back on his palms. “I’m an enforcer for the Therion Tribunal. It’s like shifter police.”

  “You got into the police?”

  “Don’t be so surprised,” he said, in mock offense. “It’s not like the regular police. I was trained from childhood for this.”

  That sounded like stories from war-torn countries, where children were taken and forced into militias. I tried not to let the thought prejudice what he said. The shifter police could be nothing like that.

  “Trained for what?” I asked.

  “Protecting shifters from being known to the world, and protecting the world from everything that goes bump in the night.”

  That didn’t sound so bad. It sounded more like Men in Black than militia.

  “What does go bump in the night?” I asked.

  “Shifters, mostly. Sometimes vampires.”

  My jaw dropped.

  “More surprising than shifters?” he asked.

  “No,” I said. Then added, “Maybe.”

  “They’re not like they are in books,” he said.

  “I’d suppose not.”

  “Not ready to trade me in already, are you?”

  “That implies that we have something more than a partnership here,” I teased.

  He lunged forward on hands and knees. This time I didn’t flinch. Instead, I couldn’t help but picture the way he’d looked just before, and just after his shift. On all fours, completely naked.

  Warm air tickled my neck as he exhaled.

  “Don’t we?”

  I turned my head slowly to see him. He was so close, his arms on both sides of me, his lips just an inch from mine.

  I was hyperaware of every inch of my skin, of everywhere he wasn’t touching me. Of everywhere I wanted him to.

  Letting go of the breath I held, I whispered, “I might need to be convinced.”

  His lips crashed against mine and he pulled me against his chest, rocking back so I was in his lap. Stacks of books toppled to the floor.

  A gasp escaped my lips as I settled against his hard chest, his harder cock.

  “Tell me what you want.” His voice was deep, a growl reverberatin
g through me.

  “I want to leave Barbetta,” I said. “I want you to take me with you.”

  “Done.”

  There was no hesitation in his answer. Excitement mingled with my desire. I wanted everything, his body, his companionship, him. My skin was fire everywhere he touched, across my back, over my arms. My lips tingled, and my breasts were heavy.

  His lips were soft, pliable, and oh so sweet. I took a taste before breaking to tell him more.

  “I want to pay my own way,” I said.

  “That’s fair.” His voice was breathy, labored. So was mine.

  He took my mouth, with his, this time with greater insistence, harder. It was better than the sweet kisses, more raw, more desperate.

  “And.” I pulled back, and leaned my forehead against his. I knew it was silly, given that I was already in his fucking lap, but I was still a little nervous about saying the words. “I want to touch you.”

  He took my hands in his and lay them flat on his chest. “Anywhere you want.”

  His dark eyes were set on my face as I moved my fingers along the buttons of his shirt. There was an intensity behind them, like it took everything that he had to stay still. But he did.

  Shirt open, I reached inside. His chest was warm and smooth. Soft skin and firm muscle. With my fingertips, I traced the hills and valleys of each muscle, committing the feel to memory. This was him, what he felt like, what I’d wanted to explore since we’d first met.

  “What is it you want?” I asked.

  Lincoln cupped my face in his palms.

  His expression was sincere, his eyes open windows to his soul. I stared back, waiting for his answer.

  “You,” Lincoln said. “All I want is you, Juliana.”

  My heart skipped a beat, and I kissed him hard.

  He tangled my hair in his fingers, and I opened for him. His tongue delved between my lips, caressing mine. The contact shot tendrils of excitement through me.

  My skin was raw. I needed him to touch me as much as I needed to touch him. I wanted his hands on me, everywhere.

  I grabbed his hand and pressed it to my breast. My cheeks heated at the boldness of my actions. I’d never been like this with anyone else, never so forward, never so turned on.

  The ache eased as his palm squeezed around me.