by Jana Leigh
Their mothers had become good friends just like the girls had, sometimes she didn't know if it was a blessing or a curse that she could call any of the older women and find out the gossip on the street. That was one thing they all agreed on, all of their parents had not moved at all since the magical community came out. Thank goodness they already lived in New York at the time in a small suburb called Bay Ridge.
It was a largely middle-class neighborhood. With its strong family presence, it wasn’t uncommon to see third or fourth-generation families living in the region. Until the early 1990s, Bay Ridge was a primarily Irish, Italian, and Norwegian neighborhood; the dragons usually were from this area. Today, Bay Ridge maintains a sizable Irish, Italian, and Greek population with many different shifters moving in. But like other areas in South/Southwest Brooklyn, late in the 20th century it saw an influx of Russians: the Bears and the Vampires. Bay Ridge had many international restaurants and bars, especially along 3rd and 5th Avenue, its main commercial strips. Many refer to the community as "Brooklyn's Gold Coast." This was where they grew up, and their families still resided. Only the girls had actually moved from the borough; their mothers were pissed. Now they tried to visit often enough to keep face. Also, their information was always good—the place was a beehive of gossip.
Now they had a system to hide from their mothers; they had them figured out. They tried to switch things up and call at different times to try to catch them, so they could get the daily lecture in about not having grandkids. But no matter how hard they tried, it was all still a pattern, and it surrounded when their fathers left the house. None of their fathers would dare tell them he was not proud of them. Hell, they were Enforcers for the largest agency for shifter regulation, and all of them had risen through the ranks to hold the title of Commander. What father wouldn't be a little proud of their daughters being able to kick men's asses on a regular basis? Cherri's father said it made him feel safer because his daughter could handle herself if a man got too fresh. After that comment, they were all sure their dads thought they were still virgins and began to act sweet when they were around so they didn't spoil the assumption. But their mothers knew and glared at them every opportunity they got for lying to their fathers.
But none of their siblings went into the agency. Just the three girls, so their mothers cut them a little slack. Calli thought it was because they secretly took credit for their jobs, telling their friends they taught them everything they knew. This was part true, because their mothers could be some mean bitches.
Calli strained her neck trying to see exactly where they were. No one was in the room with her; she had been half awake the last time someone had come into the room. But she had been too out of it to scent what they were. If she had to guess, she would say hyena. They were the only ones low enough to actually steal the three of them together. It had never been done before. They were proud of that record. Now she was going to have to suck it up and take the razzing she was going to get. Wait, she could be killed, and then they would all feel sorry for her.
"Hello?" Calli yelled as sweetly as she could, waiting to see if her friends were close, or if the assholes that kidnapped her were intelligent enough to see she was awake, come in here, and tell her what the hell was going on.
In the distance, she could hear her friends cussing. Cherri's voice came out the clearest as she screamed, "Muther fucking assholes, come back in here and show me what kind of men you really are. PUSSIES!"
Well, someone woke up on the wrong side of the drug-induced coma. Calli wanted to laugh hysterically. If any of them got free, they were going to kill their captors, or seriously disfigure them.
"Cherri, shut the fuck up. Where the hell are we?" Calli yelled and waited while her friends, who were obviously together, argued.
"Cherri, seriously, answer her, you have got to stop the screeching," Rissa said calmly. Calli wanted to laugh, because out of all of them, Cherri was the most levelheaded, unless she was given drugs, it pissed her off since she was a doctor. She lectured them constantly on putting foreign chemicals in their bodies. Like caffeine, Calli had to have at least three cups of coffee in the morning as well as a shot of caffeine in the afternoon. They didn't make it like they used to, she thought. Coffee had been deemed bad for you; so therefore, the days where you could get a double shot of espresso were gone. Now when you ordered a cup of coffee, you were lucky if you got a slight nervous buzz from it.
So many things had changed over the years. When the Breyting, or magical community, came out of the closet, suddenly everything changed. Besides the fact that Central Park was overran with shifters running in the open, the humans thought they could control things. They just didn't realize that they had been around for a lot longer than humans. So they did what any normal race would do, they tried to fight them. That lasted for only a few years until the Drekinn Agency stepped forward and compromised. The damage was done though. Caffeine was labeled bad for shifters just because one stupid dragon had gone crazy on a caffeine buzz. Really, if anyone drank twelve cups of coffee to stay awake for a midterm, they would have reacted the same. But the college had not appreciated their classroom being torched just because the guy was jittery and misinterpreted the guy next to him handing him a test for an attack.
It was the little things that pissed off the humans. Calli heard a door open and swung towards the door. They may have her chained to the wall with silver, a big misconception by the way, but if she could get free, it wouldn't even leave a mark. Silver only drained the shifter's powers for a little while, it wouldn't kill them. No, the only way to kill a shifter was the normal way, a bullet through the head. And that was only if you were a good shot. Most shifters were too fast and could react, but they couldn't heal from a bullet to the brain. In other words, whoever took them had a purpose. One Calli didn't think she was going to like.
The door opened to the cell she was in and her heart sank a little. Yep, she was going to die. Calli hung her head and shook it in resignation. She could hear the murmur of voices outside the door. Great, when she was done with this asshole, she had to kill the others. The man was strangely proportioned with a large body and small arms, though his hands were huge. His long, greasy, unwashed hair added to his disgusting appearance. She totally would not fuck him, even if she was paid. His face was the ugliest thing she had seen in a long while, with brown, dirty teeth and a thin mouth.
"Seriously, you fuckers are gonna pay for this," Calli growled and then pulled against the chains. They had her chained against a wall, spread eagled, with her hands and feet bound and then chains crisscrossing her chest. Her feet weren’t even touching the ground, so she couldn't get any momentum to move.
The Ulfer were the redheaded step children of the shifter world. They had a following, yes, but most of them were bat-shit crazy shifters that needed to be put down. That was what Calli and her friends did, but in a nice way. They had never tortured and killed one of the Ulfer, no, they simply killed them quick. And in the new world, that wasn’t a crime.
"Yeah, keep telling yourself that, bitch. The Bondi King wants your head on a silver platter, and I'm the one who's gonna give it to him," the large hyena grinned.
The Bondi King was the leader of the Ulfer, and no one actually knew who he was; many had guesses, but as of yet, no one could pin it down. It was driving everyone in the agency crazy. The Ulfer had recently had a surge in membership. It made her boss wonder if the Bondi King had been replaced by a stronger shifter. One that was not afraid to be so bold and attack the humans and attempt to build their power.
A little-known fact the humans could not grasp, the Breyting were born. Anyone with even a small amount of magical blood in them could have a child who was Breyting. About ten years ago, some strange and crazy human doctor said he found the antidote to stop the Breyting from changing humans. All of them rushed to the doctors to get their shots, and all it did was give them a headache. The Breyting could not change a human, and rumors about biting and all that shi
t were just that, rumor. Calli and her friends always laughed when the subject of changing was brought up.
Humans would always fear the unknown. Vampires, though they liked to drink blood, did not have to have it to stay alive. And the sun thing, they were allergic to the sun, that was it, no bursting into flames if the sun touched them, although she had seen a Vamp that had fallen asleep on a park bench, and the black skin had taken days to re-grow. And they couldn't change people into Vampires; they actually had an extra DNA strand that created them. All the shifters and magical critters did.
Now if a wolf and a bear mated, well, that was just freaky. Their children tended to have very large bodies and very small feet. But other than that, mating was sacred, special, happy, and a pain in her ass. Something the humans could not figure out either. Mating for all the Breyting were for life, once you found your mate, there was no other. And blah, blah, blah, happily ever after. Some things were just better left unsaid.
The Ulfer were different. As Cherri would say, there were not too many branches on their family tree. They had the same DNA strand as the magical community, but there were holes in it. The humans tried to make all the shifters and whatnot take a DNA test so they could figure out who was evil and who was not. Like that really worked, but you can't blame them for trying. No, the Ulfer fit into society, that is, until they decided to go mental and began to kill people. That's where the Drekinn Agency came in. They responded to Ulfer problems and handled them. Calli and her friends were the best handlers in the Agency. That was probably why the Bondi King wanted them dead, it would solve a lot of his problems. No one was close to their knowledge or skills. But then again, no one tried.
Just recently, their boss asked them to train the younger ranks. Calli and her friends thought it was an honor to be able to pass their knowledge along. Unfortunately, they had just begun to interview candidates and classes had not started. It would have been great if they had had some back-up.
"Now, why would he want me dead? I have never done anything to him, personally," Calli said, forcing a tear from her eye.
The hyena rolled his eyes, "I'm not that stupid, bitch."
"But you do admit to being mentally challenged, right?" Calli sneered.
She grinned when he pulled the gun up and aimed it at her head. If she was gonna go, she was gonna go in style, she thought.
"Hey, besties. Are you done arguing yet, ‘cause I have to tell you good-bye. It's been fun, but I have a gun pointed at my head, and I think that possibly we're gonna have to re-evaluate the rent. You all are gonna have to pay more," Calli called out, and grinned at the shifter in front of her who was frowning.
Did he expect her to cry, cower? It wasn't in her vocabulary, and she refused to go out without at least a fight. She knew her friends were trying to get loose, if their arguments that drifted down the hallways were any indication; they couldn't shift either. She needed to try to bide some time, or maybe she should take it like a woman...Nah.
"So, self-proclaimed slow boy, what exactly are your plans here, so I know what to expect," Calli said calmly.
She could feel the drugs beginning to wear off, but the silver was still affecting her. On a normal day, she could have probably found a way out of this cluster fuck. Calli was a wolf, and a damn good one. Standing five feet eight, she was not a shrinking flower. Her taunt, muscular form made men sit up and take notice. Her black hair and blue eyes matched that of her wolf, and when she was pissed, there was a sparkle to her eyes—they must be fucking glowing about now. No one would say she was beautiful, but her breasts were an eye catcher. She used to hate them when she was younger, but as she grew, Calli realized that most of her prey fixated on them, so she used to them to her advantage. Her friends called her 'GI Bombshell' as a joke. But it wasn't far off the mark since her daily attire usually consisted of military style, black cargo pants and a black tank top. Her long, black hair tied into intricate braids around her head and then clasped in a ponytail. She never wore make up, because with her coloring, she didn't need it.
The hyena growled and moved closer to press the gun right against her temple. "Simple, I shoot you, your friends, and then drag your carcasses to the King, then I get the handsome reward he has put on your head."
"Wait there, slow boy. You never said anything about a reward. How much?" she laughed. Then thought, why the hell was there a bounty on her head? Cherri and Rissa were both wolves too, and they worked together a lot, but in the last six months, they had been working on the training gig, not on the front lines where they could piss someone off enough to put a bounty on their heads.
"Fifty thou a piece," the smelly man said.
Calli frowned again, not a huge amount in this day and age; she was a little offended the bounty was such a meager amount. Hell, she had that much sitting her account if she needed it. She could buy her way out of this, but it was the principle of the thing.
"Are you freaking kidding me? A measly fifty thou for killing my ass? It's a scandal, a travesty. Hey, girls, I have a fifty thousand bounty on my head, is that shit or what?"
Rissa yelled in reply, "Hell, you're worth more than that, I think you're losing your mojo. I wouldn't waste my time on fifty thou, now if they upped it a few million, then your ass is toast, and I'm the toaster, but for now, I'm insulted right along with you."
Calli rolled her eyes; figures Rissa would be the one who answered her on this question. She was the investment genius that made them the money they had stored in so many accounts around the world. It would be a little scary if anyone actually found out their net worth.
"Fuckin' A, now before you kill me, let me point out a few facts to you," Calli said calmly.
The man grunted and looked at her breasts that were heaving. Dammit, this is why she hated sports bras; they tended to flatten you best assets when you needed them the most. Calli pushed her chest out so the idiot would continue to stare at her breasts and not pay attention to the sounds coming from the other room. With her wolf senses, she could tell that her friends were close to getting loose. She only had to keep his attention. Maybe her day of death had not arrived.
"Now, if you kill me right away, then you will be wasting that yummy hard on you have going on," Calli said seductively. She tried to look at the tiny bulge in his pants with interest, but she was sure they were talking cocktail, not ballpark, at this point.
The hyena grinned and she almost threw up a little. Her friends had better hurry their furry asses up, or she was going to shave their heads in their sleep, again. He dropped the gun a little, and she let out a breath of relief and then nodded to him.
"Yeah, I think maybe you could go out with a bang, in more ways than one," he barked, and she laughed with him while she was rolling her eyes.
"Good one, now why don't you come on over here and let me take care of that thing?" she growled and licked her lips as an invitation.
Damn, but he was stupid. The big man put the gun down on the floor and hurriedly began unsnapping his pants. She almost groaned when she saw he wore tightie whities, of course he did. She seriously thought those had gone out in the mid to late 20's.
Finally, she heard the scrape of her friends getting out of the room they were being held in. Slow Boy was too busy trying to pull the cocktail wiener out of his pants to notice. That was until Cherri slammed in the room holding a metal bar and swung it like Zena Warrior Princess at the idiot's head—Calli loved that show on the oldies channel. He had no time to react and went down like a house of cards on the floor, still holding his pecker in his hands.
Rissa walked in the room slowly and grinned when she saw the man on the floor. "Really, can we take pictures and post on the page?"
Cherri turned to her and growled, "Where the fuck were you? I thought we said we were going on three."
Rissa shrugged and kicked the gun away from the man, in case he woke up. "Your three and my three are two totally different things. You need to work on that. And we killed the other four that were outsi
de the door, you did the same thing there; I only got to kill one."
"How the fuck, can the number three be different? It's a Goddamn number," Cherri yelled.
Calli waited patiently while they fought about the timing of their entrance, and finally, she couldn't take it anymore. Here she was, tied to a freaking wall with silver chains, and they were fighting in front of her instead of getting her loose. They sucked; she had no clue why she was best friends with them sometimes.
They were all so different. Cherri was the short, cute, perky one. She was referred to as Marilyn Monroe on more than one occasion because of her voluptuous body, and blonde, curly hair. When the girls saw that old faded pin-up, they had laughed. Men chased her constantly when they went anywhere, she was a slut. Then there was Rissa; she was the nerdy counterpart. She had brown hair that was cut into a short, spiky hairdo, and she was stick thin and tall; they could never figure out where the hell her muscles went to. Rissa was strong, but it looked like a wind could blow her over—she said it was because of her metabolism, they said she was anorexic.
None of them were in a relationship because they were all holding out hope that they would find their mate, but after one hundred years or so, they had pretty much given up and figured that scratching their itch was needed. They only had one rule, and that was no one brought a man to the apartment. It was their sanctuary.
She loved being close to the park so she could run. It was a good thing that when they shifted their clothes disappeared and then reappeared when they shifted back. It was part of their magic. But it took practice. You have no idea how many times Calli had shifted back to a human with her underwear on the outside of her clothes. Thank goodness that was just when she was young. Now she could do it without thinking.
