Greyriver Shifters

by Kristina Weaver

  Instead of rising to leave, I sit still, slowly sip my coffee and pretend to concentrate on a report someone must have left behind while trying to hear what’s being said.

  “He can’t know, Brig.”

  “Well, how the hell else are we supposed to keep it quiet? You know we owe him our loyalty, Blain, and he needs to know about this.”

  “But he’d kick her out for sure, and where would she go?”

  “I don’t know, but I can tell you, living in a house with a female who can channel other people is not what I want. It fucking freaks me out to think she can randomly just get into my mind and know what I am thinking or feeling, or hell, what I see.”

  “Yeah, I know, but surely she can control it. I mean, I know it’s new and stuff, but Hannah is so fucking ditzy that half the time she doesn’t know what the hell is going on. Come on man, she is more interested in shopping than tuning into your brain.”

  “You know she accidentally hopped into Hetty Justin’s head the other day? Freaked me the hell out when she told me what that old lady was eating.”

  “So?”

  “So, Hetty lives clear across fucking town!”

  “Christ. Fine, I guess we owe it to him to tell him about her, especially with what the council has going on. Can’t afford to have her hear things she shouldn’t be. She’d blurt it out without thinking.”

  “I know, I know. It’s just…where would she go? It’s not like she has any friends who’d take her in.”

  “I don’t give a shit one way or the other. She has to go.”

  I pretend to keep reading, my head down as the conversation ends and both males get up to leave while my mind works furiously. If what I just heard is accurate, then it seems that little Miss Seers has an ability.

  That’s a problem for her family for more than one reason, the first obviously being that those fucktards on the council are making waves again and the second that the Seers family is not very tolerant of traits they believe to be a sign of bad blood.

  If Hannah is capable of somehow connecting with people and picking their brains, then she is definitely in trouble and won’t stand a chance of staying in her home.

  Not that I really care, much, but that brings me to something that I can’t believe could be true, but hopefully is. Could she help me find Barbie? I can’t answer that question, not without having some serious information under my belt, but I have at least one question answered at this moment and that explains why Hannah has been in lock up so much recently.

  If the spoiled fool is only now coming into some sort of ability, then she’s unstable and in need of help, something that most parents give their kids when they first start showing signs of it.

  If all I just heard is true, then I have a very definite way to find Barbie and the males we’ve been looking for. And I know just how I am going to get Hannah Seers to help me.

  # # # #

  Hannah

  I couldn’t help it. I sort of missed Lync, and besides, I like this place. It has lights and food and is bug free, a big upgrade from the accommodation I was using just a day ago before I convinced Mom to let me out for a shower and something to eat.

  I think she finally cracked when I admitted that something on me smells like a dead skunk and if I stayed in there long enough the whole house would start stinking.

  So I got out, scrubbed my skin raw—I mean, where I could touch since I’ve had quite the stay in the basement and Daddy has been in a fine to violent mood ever since.

  To say the male is deranged and on the verge of an explosion, well, that would suggest that he hadn’t already exploded. He did. All over me. His fists, feet, belt, it all touched me at one point when he found me down there asleep instead of thinking about my actions. To be honest, I think Daddy just needed a reason to hit me again, and he took it.

  I did heal though, some, at least on my face because Daddy usually doesn’t hit the face, so I mean I look okay if you don’t peek under my clothes. After showering, I got dressed, left the house, and went to lunch at Jesse’s, where I enjoyed a good heaping of pulled pork, mashed potatoes, and chocolate cream pie.

  Then another “friend” of mine, Una, called and asked if I want to go drinking. It was something I wasn’t going to pass up because I am fully aware of the fact that Mom won’t admit she let me out and that will only rile Daddy.

  I had a decision to make, and you know what, I just knew they’d toss me in here again, especially when I started screaming and threatening to take the enforcers to the council.

  That always gets them, and I have to say, I enjoy using these males to get what I want. Or need. Yeah, most definitely need, I think, whining when my rib protests under the heavy sweater I’m wearing.

  Tonight’s outfit is nothing like the stuff I usually wear because—honestly—I just don’t care if Mom and Daddy wouldn’t approve. Instead of a short dress and heels, no matter what the weather, I am in a pair of black skinny jeans, white sneakers without socks, and a bulky, soft beige sweater that in no way highlights my figure.

  Thank God, because I ran into Goose Bane, and that male is a pervert, plain and simple. Plus, well, I can’t exactly strut around in a non-existent dress if I’m black and blue on my back, stomach, and arms, now can I?

  Lync whimpers, pressing his face against the cell bars to sniff at me again, his face creasing beneath the hair he keeps sprouting when he gets a whiff of the blood I can’t stop seeping from the little cut on my thigh, compliments of tripping over something when Daddy tried to grab my arm and I pulled back.

  “Blood.”

  “Yeah, but chill my brothah from anothah mothah, it’s just a scratch,” I assure him, smiling when he grunts and bores a hole into my thigh.

  “You wanna see? Okay, but I’m gonna have to pull part of my pants down so don’t be surprised.”

  I chuckle when he huffs, and then I stand, unzipping my jeans to lower the left side and show him the very back of my left thigh. The cut isn’t big, but it is deep, more of a stab wound because whatever I fell over had a sharp piece that jabbed right into me.

  I supposed I should just be grateful it didn’t stab me in the ass. Even I’d laugh if that had happened.

  “See, nothing major. It’s just taking some time to heal is all,” I say, twisting around awkwardly to see the cut.

  “Showing your ass to a feral male. You must be desperate to get laid.”

  Whipping around, I hop, wiggling my jeans back up and groan when I see Logan, his mouth compressed into a hard line of disgust. I know that look, I get to see it every time I look up and catch his eye, so why I feel hurt is beyond me. Fucking asshole.

  “He wanted to know where I was bleeding. Is it my fault it’s close to my ass?” I ask airily, enjoying his annoyance when I don’t take the bait.

  The male really does love arguing with me, I think, because he doesn’t seem happy when instead of insulting him back, I just shrug it off and sit again, smiling at Lync.

  “I tripped. I’ve been, er, clumsy lately,” I lie, hating that I am lying to Lync, as weird as it sounds.

  It’s just that he’s my pal, okay. He listens, and he doesn’t judge. Of course, he is nuts, or as close as all get out, so I can’t really say very much but to admit that he’s all I have and I am desperate for someone.

  You know what it’s like when your brother forgets you down in the basement and only brings you water when you’re so thirsty you’d consider Bear Gryll-ing the shit out of your own urine?

  It sucks. And it makes it clear that you have no friends. None. Lync though, he gets me.

  Lync snuffles and shakes his head wildly before going still to stare up at Logan.

  “You’re a bad liar,” Logan accuses, his lip curling.

  Oh male, you have no idea how wrong you are, I think, keeping my lips immobile when the urge to smile almost wins out.

  Keeping my face blank, I shrug, winking at Lync, who doesn’t move but to sniff at the air. I’d do it too, but my nose is stil
l not right after it healed. Sometimes I heal slowly and without the benefit of a male to blood me, well, I guess I’m a hafta go girl power on this and do it all on my own.

  I’d love to know what Lync is sniffing though because it’s making him very aggressive to the point he grabs the bars and starts growling at Logan.

  “What the—?”

  “Hey, big guy. Chill out, yeah! It’s just Logan, the asshole who always comes down to torment me. Be still, Lync. I don’t care if he insults me because his opinion means nothing,” I coo, for Lync’s benefit as well as Logan’s.

  My beast calms a little, his hairy jaw clenched when he glares at Logan while Logan is looking at me as if I grew three heads.

  “What’s going on here?! What did you do to him?” he demands, his temper flaring so visibly I don’t need to scent shit, I can feel it whip at me.

  “Nothing much. Just showed him my vagina and promised to do more if he promised to keep me entertained by howling at nothing. Good times,” I say mockingly, my eyes twinkling when I catch what I could swear is amusement shining in Lync’s eerie eyes.

  Logan snarls, the sound echoing off the walls of the passage, and takes a step closer to my cell, his disgust and anger shooting straight at me from eyes that are no longer just emerald green but swirling with his wolf.

  “You’re sick. To torture an already broken male that way is beyond reprehensible.”

  I shrug again, winking at Lync, who is definitely—no, I swear, it’s like I can feel his humor—laughing inside.

  “Eh, what else is there to do around here? I thought of masturbating just to keep things interesting, but eh, it’s so last season to do yourself,” I quip, snorting when his face goes red and he clenches his jaw tightly.

  “You—”

  “Oh, calm down, Logan! Jesus, you’d think a male would know when I’m teasing. I was just talking to him is all. He wanted to know about my injury, and I showed him so that he’d calm down. I haven’t been teasing or seducing the big, hairy gorilla over yonder, even if I was bored. Which I wasn’t,” I say, winking at Lync again because I don’t want him thinking I find him boring.

  His monosyllabic snarls are actually quite endearing when one gets past the snapping teeth and slight dementia. No really, I haven’t had this good of a conversation since I spoke to Bear the night he fell asleep half way through sex with me.

  Good, ego-boosting times.

  Logan stills, his eyes going to narrow slits before he breathes out heavily and curses, shoving a hand through his hair with enough frustration I see a few strands yank out of his head.

  I’d wince for him, but he can kiss my little snowy ass.

  “He speaks to you?”

  “Well, I mean, you can’t really call it speaking, more like he barks the occasional word at me, but yeah, I’m used to it now, so I usually answer right. Mostly. Sometimes I just enjoy misunderstanding him so that I can watch him throw himself at the bars like a savage. It’s better than Netflix and chill,” I assure him, smirking when I hear his teeth grind together.

  “This is the most progress I’ve seen in him in over five years,” he says slowly, looking over at Lync, who hasn’t taken his eyes off of us.

  For some reason, I get the impression that Lync is thinking, something. I mean, I could try the whole mind-meld thingy, which no one knows about but is definitely there, but I’m a little scared that if I try, he may infect me with crazy. Just saying.

  “And what, you’re surprised that the concubine whore of the western world could get someone to talk to her? Without showing her tits, vagina, or credit card?” I snort, hating that I feel hurt when he doesn’t disagree.

  See, this is why I don’t like this guy. My vagina may go rogue every once in a while, pulsing and demanding I mate him, sex him, do bad and naughty things to him, but I am no dummy.

  I’d hit it up, and he’d blow me up with contempt afterwards. No female, not even one as self-centered as I am enjoys knowing a guy finds you repulsive.

  Breathing calmly, I try to ignore the glimmer of emotion that starts in my chest and look over at Lync because I can’t look at Logan a second more without doing something stupid, like going soft.

  “It’s just a surprise is all. Prissy used to sit with him for hours at a time and talk, but he’d ignore her and keep hurting himself. Got so bad Nick forbade her from coming down here. Now it’s only males or—”

  “Me.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Well, me and Big Hairy get along just fine. I talk, he listens, and when he is finally tired of hearing me ramble on, he grunts and barks just to get me to shut up. Sooo, what brings the big bad enforcer down here to rub elbows with the crazy and unlawful? Wanna come in here and make my confinement entertaining?” I purr, putting as much seduction into my voice as I can. “I could do a pity fuck if you want, though to really feel that level of pity for you I’d have to see your dick again.”

  Chapter Six

  Hannah

  I swear I hear a whisper of a laugh coming from Lync’s direction, but upon inspection all I see is his face, hairy, scary, staring right at us without expression.

  “Christ, you really don’t have any class, do you? I came here to warn you that your brothers know about your ability,” he sneers, his eyes glowing when I take a stumbling step back when shock hits me.

  No. No they can’t know. No one knows that I can—

  Wait a minute, I think, harking back to the conversation I had with Blain and the way he wanted to use me. I recall it all, and by the time I have played the conversation in my head I feel like laughing because I would lay money that he used that as an in to get Logan to listen to the conversation.

  “What did he say?” I ask, playing along and acting the frightened maiden to the hilt.

  Logan shrugs and grabs the chair he frequently uses, straddling it with his back to Lync.

  “Just that he knows that you can get into people’s heads and that he’s going to tell your father.”

  I snort, knowing that—

  “I didn’t trust them at first since I don’t trust any of you Seers as far as I can throw you, so I took a little run in the woods and watched as they moved all of your things out into the garbage bins,” he drawls, making me go cold inside.

  You have money, I assure myself, biting into my lip when tears threaten to overwhelm me. I have money and, and…

  “Did you see my laptop?”

  “Yeah! That your father smashed to pieces on the driveway. You should have seen it, Han, the thing exploded—oh, is that a problem? You have your little black book of numbers stored on it or something?” he asks, grinning when I go tense and shriek out my anger.

  I had stuff on there. Like my work and…and all my photos of Bear, I think, recalling when Daddy wanted to erase it all from my phone and my mad dash to back it all up.

  Now I have nothing, not even my favorite picture of us at the lake the one summer we went swimming and fishing. It’s a memory not born of our affair but of the friendship we once shared when his family would include me in their outings.

  Sometimes we’d go down there and watch humans water-ski or boat or whatever they call that human stuff, and we’d laugh about how redundant all that stuff is.

  I’d secretly disagree since I have always wanted to do that stuff, but that isn’t the point. The point is that I have just lost something that meant a great deal to me. It’s not as if I can call Bear and ask for a copy. And God knows Priscilla Silverton would laugh me to death if I ever asked her.

  “You know…it occurs to me that you are officially disowned and have nowhere to go,” he says, looking at me intently.

  I could cry right now, just fall onto my knees and sob because while this is what I wanted, I can’t afford to walk out of here on my own. When I said my father would hurt me, I wasn’t kidding. He won’t allow me to live in town, casting shame on his family, and neither will he accept that I have abilities.

  Even if that were true, and it isn�
�t anymore, he wouldn’t listen to a word I say.

  Oh Blain, why? How could you?

  I get that he needs Logan or someone to pass off a warning, but to use me so callously; it’s just hard to swallow after everything I did for them.

  “What exactly did they say?” I ask again, striving for calm and an even tone when inside I hurt.

  “Pain.”

  “Not now, Lync! Please, I, what did they say? Please,” I ask, not caring that I just begged Logan Kilter for something because I need to know it all.

  He considers me, leaning his elbow across the chair back to look me over and decide whether he should tell me. It surprises the hell out of me when he does.

  “He said they couldn’t afford to have you listening in and finding out what the council is up to. So tell me, Han, have you overheard anything interesting lately?”

  If you only knew, I think, smirking when his eyes become curious. Oh yes, he’s curious, and he’s trying to get something from me without giving too much away.

  Oh Kilter, Kilter, Kilter, you have not played this game with me yet, boy. You don’t know what skills I got.

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about. I have no abilities.” I sniff, walking over to the cot where I fall down with an air of boredom that makes him muffle a snarl of frustration.

  “Oh come now, Hannah banana. Don’t be ashamed of a little ability. I know you purebloods hate that kind of stuff, but now that you’re on the wrong side of prejudice you can share. This filthy mixed blood won’t judge,” he murmurs, smiling when I roll over and show him my back.

  Oh God, I want to be strong and win, I do, but what am I going to do? I have no place to go, and even if all the money I have saved is enough to buy a place, I still have to consider other stuff like food and…and protection. I’d need to pay the enforcers who freelance on their off time to protect me.