by JC Holly
Mica poked out his tongue, then wiped his face on Jerry’s discarded shirt. “Looks like you’re claimed, too. By me.”
“I think I can live with that.”
Chapter Fourteen
Jerry sat up in bed and watched Mica sleep. He felt himself smile, and reached down to stroke the man’s hair.
It wasn’t like him to feel so close to someone so soon. Normally it would be weeks before he’d allow himself to think about any sort of a future. In the back of his mind a tiny voice suggested that it might have something to do with Mica’s demon blood, but Jerry knew that wasn’t the case. It was because of who Mica was, not his DNA. The guy was cute, funny, caring, and a freaking horndog. He was pretty much perfect.
Careful not to wake his partner, Jerry reached to the side table and checked his phone. There was nothing from Snow yet, but it was only a matter of time. If Snow was good at one thing, it was interrogations. He could be your best friend or your worst enemy, depending on what was needed. Jerry had seen him pull information from the most unwilling of people without so much as a threat of violence. Of course, sometimes violence was necessary, and Snow was just as equipped to handle that, too.
Mica stirred then woke with a deep breath in and a yawn.
“Time is it?” he mumbled.
“A little after six.”
“You wake early.” Mica rolled onto his side to face Jerry. “Expecting a text from one of your many boyfriends?”
Jerry snorted and put the phone aside. “Pack stuff, actually. I only date one guy at once.”
“Glad to hear it.” Mica stretched up to kiss him. “So, time for more questions.”
Jerry nodded. He’d been expecting it. “I don’t know how much more I can tell you about incubi. I might be able to find someone you can talk to, though.”
Mica shook his head, smiling. “I’m good there for the time being. I meant questions about you.”
“Ah. Go ahead.” He’d been expecting that, too.
“How old are you?”
“Right into the hard ones, eh?” Jerry grinned. “I’m forty-five. Last ten as a shifter, so they don’t really show.”
“Huh. My oldest lay yet.”
“I’m honored.”
Mica laughed. “Okay, so the shifting thing. What’s that like?”
“What’s the most pain you’ve ever been in?”
The smile dissipated. “Car accident in my teens. Broke a leg and an arm. I healed fast, not surprising now I guess, but it hurt like hell.”
“Imagine that pain and multiply it by a hundred.”
“That bad?”
Jerry nodded. “Every bone in my body breaks, every muscle tears, and every tendon snaps. Then they alter themselves to suit the new form. It’s over in a matter of seconds, but believe me when I say it feels like much longer.”
“And then you’re a wolf?”
“Pretty much. I still think like me, though I’m a little more instinctual, but other than that I’m all wolf.”
“Is it worth the pain?”
“Definitely.” He didn’t even pause to think.
Mica’s smile returned. “Describe it? If you can, I mean.”
“That’s a tough one.” Jerry sat up in bed and rubbed at his neck as he tried to explain the change. “Imagine you’ve spent your life locked in a prison. You can’t see out the window, all you can smell is your cell, all you can hear are muffled noises from other areas. Then imagine stepping onto a busy street at rush hour on Christmas Eve. Bright colors everywhere you look, a hundred smells, a thousand sounds. All sharply in focus and inches from your face.”
Mica raised an eyebrow. “That different?”
“That’s an understatement. The first time most people shift, it overwhelms them. I passed out.” The memory brought a chuckle. “Suddenly being able to hear conversations in the house across the road, or knowing that the person standing next to you ate beef two days ago. It’s intense.”
“That’s unbelievable. That’s only when shifted, though, right?”
“Yes and no. My senses are heightened in either form, but they’re more powerful when I’m in my other form. For instance, the people next door are both asleep, and the woman is snoring. They left their TV on downstairs on a low volume, and it’s currently playing a weather forecast. It’ll be cloudy with a high of sixty.”
Mica’s jaw dropped. “That’s…You can really hear that?”
Jerry nodded, enjoying showing off. “You recently changed your toothpaste from spearmint to freshmint, and you’ve got nail polish on one of your fingernails.”
The man raised an eyebrow. “That’s insane. And for the record the nail polish is to stop the nail splitting. Honest.”
“Suuure. Any more questions?”
Mica sat up beside him, his arm warm as it brushed against Jerry’s. “How, uh, how is it caught?”
“Caught?”
“You know.” Mica looked uncomfortable. “Shifter…ism.”
“Ah. It’s through the bite of a shifter in their animal form.”
“So I’m in no danger if you nibble my ear a little too hard in bed?”
“Not unless you’re into some very bizarre stuff, no.” He poked out his tongue as Mica punched his arm. “It has to be intentional, too. The shifter has to want to pass it on. Also, I’m pretty sure your incubus blood would whup the infection’s ass before it could do anything.”
“So I’m sturdy, then?”
“Not as sturdy as a full-blooded incubus, but more than a regular human, certainly.”
“I’ve never really tested myself when it comes to exercise. I mean, I don’t mind a run or two, but I’ve never gone near a gym in my life. I’d probably bring shame to my clan, or whatever demons have.”
“That’s not how it works for supernatural beings. Only humans have to work out.”
Mica frowned. “So I’m already strong and stuff? I don’t feel strong.”
“That’s because you’ve never tested it. On top of that, you’ve grown up believing you shouldn’t be able to throw a car. Belief has a lot to do with it.”
Mica was bolt upright now. “Throw. A. Car. You’re exaggerating now, right?”
“For someone part-human, maybe.” Jerry shrugged. “I’ve seen how strong some demons are firsthand, though. Nothing would surprise me.”
Mica jumped as the table buzzed. Jerry snatched up the vibrating phone and answered.
“It’s Snow,” Snow said. “Got some news.”
“A location?”
“Yup. And something else. Get here soon as you can, yeah?”
“On my way.”
Jerry dropped the phone again and turned to Mica, who held up a hand.
“Go. It’s fine,” he said. “I can tell from your face that it’s important, and at a guess, it’s to do with the hole in your shoulder.”
“Yeah, it’s related.”
“Then be careful.” Mica ran his hand carefully over the bandage. “I don’t want you coming back with more holes.”
Jerry kissed him hard on the lips. “I promise.”
* * * *
Mica watched Jerry jump into his car and peel off, then headed back inside and dropped onto the couch. The television stared back at him, black. Where was the damn remote…
“Computer?” No, that wasn’t it. “Television on?” The TV flipped on and Mica smiled. “Check me out.”
“Please repeat command.”
He jumped at the robotic voice, then chuckled at himself. So much for his cleverness. He spotted the remote on the table underneath a magazine and retrieved it, then flipped through the channels. The weather caught his eyes. Cloudy with a high of sixty. He smirked and shook his head. Keeping secrets from Jerry would be impossible. He wondered how many relationships had come to an end because Jerry heard a whispered phone call, or smelled someone else’s cologne.
That wouldn’t be a problem with this relationship, Mica told himself. He wasn’t the cheating type. He hated anyone
who even considered it, in fact. Jerry would have nothing to worry about.
Again he marveled at how quickly things were going. They’d known each other for less than a week, and both of them were acting like they’d been together for much longer. It felt good, though. Comfortable. Speaking of comfortable…
Mica sprawled out on the couch and grabbed the phone. Molly picked up on the first ring.
“Any plans?” he asked. “Jerry had to head out, and I thought you’d like to see his place.”
“Sounds great. Gimme the address.”
“Ah. Hang on.” He scrabbled around on the coffee table until he found a bill, then read the address. “Know it?”
“Sure. Be there soon. Get the coffee percolating.”
The phone back in its cradle, Mica suddenly realized why Molly was so eager to come over. She would want to know how the talk went. The talk about whether or not Jerry was a shifter.
“Shit.”
Should he tell her? Now that he’d talked it through with Jerry, he knew it wasn’t really his place to “out” someone else. He sighed and chewed at his lip as he thought about it. On top of that, there was his own news. That one could most certainly wait, though. He wasn’t telling anyone about that until he knew more himself. Hell, he hadn’t even properly processed the information yet. Him, part demon? Shifters were one thing, but demons?
Chapter Fifteen
Jerry waited in the reception room of the building that Conway spent a large part of his days working in. Technically he didn’t need to spend any time there at all. He was the owner of the company, after all. He could just sit on his ass and count the money if he wanted to. Conway preferred to get his hands dirty, though.
The receptionist, a young woman named Mindy, smiled as he glanced over at her. While the company wasn’t all shifters, she was, and new to it, too. The rumor was that she’d allowed Conway to turn her after accidentally walking in on him while he was mid-shift. What Conway was doing shifting in his office was another matter, though, and the reason most of the pack believed the story was a pile of crap.
“He shouldn’t be long,” Mindy said.
She’d already said the same thing twice. Jerry didn’t usually mind waiting—Conway was the alpha, after all—but when it was something so important it was frustrating as hell. Instead of making a scene, Jerry swallowed his annoyance and returned the smile.
“Thank you.”
He pulled his phone from his pocket and checked for new messages. Mica had texted earlier, asking whether he could invite Molly over to keep him company, and if he could mention about Jerry being a shifter, since he’d discussed the possibility beforehand with her. Jerry had told him it was fine, but to make sure she kept it a secret. There were no new messages, so he put his phone away again, restraining a sigh.
Ten minutes later, the intercom buzzed and Mindy waved Jerry through into Conway’s office. As he stood, two men walked out of the office and hurried to the elevator. Both were human, and neither were anyone Jerry knew.
“Sorry about the delay,” Conway said as Jerry headed inside. “Couple of idiots trying to buy my company for half of what it’s worth.” He revealed his white teeth in a grin. “They’ll come back with a better offer, or not at all. Either way is fine.”
“Didn’t realize you were interested in selling, boss.”
“I’m not, but I’m also not a fool. If someone throws enough money at me, I’ll take it.”
Jerry sat in one of the two chairs that faced Conway’s dark mahogany table, and tossed a folded piece of paper onto the table.
“That’s everything we got from the second man.”
Conway took the paper and glanced at it, then dropped it to the table. “And now in your own words, if you don’t mind.”
Jerry nodded. “Snow says that the man was resistant for half the night, and he was doubtful that he’d get any information at all. The guy acted supremely confident, as if he were interrogated every day. Like getting blood from a stone.”
“What changed?”
“Snow figured that the man’s mental strength may have been magically heightened, so he called a friend who came by to try and dispel any magics.”
“And it worked.”
Jerry nodded. “After that the guy crumbled. The witch is named Faith, though the man believes that it’s an assumed name. He met her a few months ago, and after she proved what she was capable of they joined up to take on shifters.”
Conway pursed his lips. “The first attack in the area was, what, two and a half months ago? That adds up.”
“They had another woman with them at first, apparently, but after the first attack she decided she wanted nothing to do with them. The witch, Faith, killed her.”
“With magic?”
Jerry shrugged. “The man didn’t know. He said he’d headed out to grab some cigarettes and when he came back only Faith was still standing.”
Conway looked away for a moment, clearly irritated. “If he’d seen the attack, we might have an idea of what sort of power we’re messing with. Did he say much about her abilities?”
It’s on the piece of paper I gave you, boss. “Scent blocking, some mental tricks, and he suspects she has some sort of control over healing, as she was hit in an attack and recovered faster than expected.”
“What about dealing damage?”
“He suspects she killed the other woman with magic, but that’s all he knows. Up until she used him to attack me and Snow, she’d been careful to hide her witchcraft.”
“Very well.” Conway picked up the paper and reread it, then crumpled it into a ball and tossed it into a small bin on the other side of the room. No doubt he’d put the bin there specifically to show off to humans. “So you have an address.”
“Two, including her apartment. Obviously she won’t return there, though. The other is spot that she doesn’t know our informant was aware of.” Unless it’s a trap.
“Unless it’s a trap.”
Jerry smiled. “If it is, she’ll live just long enough to regret it.”
“How many men do you need?”
“None, for the moment at least.”
Conway frowned. “Are you sure a scouting mission is wise? If she suspects something she’ll bolt, and if she doesn’t and confronts you, you’ll be facing her alone.”
Jerry chewed his lip. He’d considered the possibility, but hearing someone else say it aloud made it all the more real. On top of that, Mica’s face popped into the forefront of his mind. What if she was stronger than him? The last thing he wanted was her killing him then hunting down his loved ones.
He always fought better when he didn’t have to worry about such things. Not that he begrudged Mica for anything. Perhaps I should fight better when I’ve someone to fight for.
“I’ll take the enforcers,” he said finally, referring to a group of five shifters trained specifically for fighting threats to the pack. “They can keep just in earshot until I need them. If they’re shifted too, they’ll be way out of the range of any spells she may be using for detection.”
“So she’d be the one in the trap.” Conway grinned, showing his teeth. “I like that. I like it a lot. Still, be sure to settle your affairs. I cannot abide loose ends.”
You’re all heart, boss. Jerry nodded once and left. He needed to see Mica.
* * * *
Molly had just left when Jerry returned, and it didn’t take a genius to figure out that something was worrying him. Mica sat on the couch and gestured for Jerry to do the same.
“What’s up?” Mica asked.
“What do you mean?”
“Please, Jerry. You’re about as hard to read as a Spot the Dog book right now.”
Jerry smiled, though it looked forced. “I have pack business to take care of, and it’s pretty dangerous.”
Mica had figured as much, based on the conversation they’d had before Jerry left earlier. His stomach rolled at the thought of Jerry being hurt, or worse.
“How important is this?” Mica asked, after a moment’s silence. “I mean, is it vital that you deal with it?”
Jerry’s expression was solemn. “It’s what I do. I’d hoped to tell you all this before anything big came up. I’m the pack’s second. Kind of like the alpha’s right-hand man.”
“So when the alpha doesn’t want to do something, he sends you?”
“Yes and no.” He sighed and rubbed at the back of his neck. “The alpha is too important to a pack to deal with dangerous things, so they usually have a second, basically a bodyguard with extra responsibilities, and a small number of shifters trained to fight.”
Mica nodded. Of course a pack would need people capable of defending the others. The majority of them were wolves. That had to make challenges a pretty common occurrence, right? He’d seen enough documentaries about regular wolves to know how the hierarchy worked.
“Go on,” he said. He didn’t know what else to say.
“There’s a woman, a witch, who has been attacking shifters. We caught her accomplices, and now we’ve found her. We need to deal with her.”
“And by ‘deal with’ you mean what? Kill?”
“Yes. I don’t want to, but she’s attacked a number of people so far, and she’s not going to stop.”
“Isn’t that what the police are for?”
“She’d tear them apart or charm them into walking away. Even if she did end up in custody, how long do you think she’d stay there? In this case, we are the police.”
Mica didn’t know what to think. All his questions to Jerry about what he was, and he’d never asked anything about how dangerous it was just being a shifter. If he’d started his questioning with, “How many times has someone tried to kill you?” perhaps he’d be a little more prepared. Just seeing the wound on Jerry’s shoulder had been tough at first. What if he came home with more? What if he never came home at all.
“I want to help.”
The words came out of Mica’s mouth before he realized he’d decided upon saying them.
Jerry frowned. “What?”
“I want to help.” This time he was more confident. “I know I’m probably not in the same league as you, but you said I could fight.”
