Shifter Legacies Special Edition: Books 1-2

by Mark E. Cooper

  He tentatively reached toward the bars, and Stephen’s attention became rapt. The moment he was within reach, the vampire lunged and pulled his arm through the bars. The bite wasn’t as painful as he had thought it might be; sudden and sharp, yes, but the pain dulled quickly replaced by bliss.

  “Oh goddess,” he hissed, his eyes half-lidded in pleasure at the sensation. His body reacted fiercely and he wanted to thrust with his hips. The thought was humiliating, considering those present in the room, but true nonetheless. “Oh,” he groaned as Stephen drank away his power. He felt it flowing out with his blood and it felt wonderful. No wonder the thrill seekers became addicted. He wanted Stephen to take it all, but he was sated all too soon.

  David wanted to protest when his friend stopped feeding and licked the wounds clean to seal them. Vamp saliva had healing properties. Stephen nodded his thanks; he was himself again.

  Andrew opened all the cages, letting the prisoners out. They milled about excitedly, babbling their gratitude and asking questions. He ignored them to give David the keys before going back to keep vigil over Marie. David unlocked Stephen’s cage and the vampire stepped out.

  “Are Elizabeth and Lee with you?”

  “David’s wolves are upstairs fighting AML,” Edward reported. “Gavin claimed the false Arcadian for himself, but said he would need help with Arcadian’s brood. So he commandeered our vampires to help him. All of them are here. I had feared that Terry had fallen, but now…”

  Stephen nodded, but his eyes were for Marie. “Arcadian subverted him somehow. I can feel that Danyelle is nearby enjoying herself, and Charles is... well, you know Charles. He feels grim, but then he always does. They’re fine I think.”

  David smiled; he liked Charles though he was a little grim. Maybe dour was a better word for what he was. They had hit it off right away. A case of opposites attracting maybe.

  “I must blood oath Elizabeth and Lee upon our return home,” Stephen went on. “I’ve had time to regret my decision not to do that earlier. I will rectify that before dawn.”

  “Stephen!” Andrew called. “I feel her. I think she’s coming back to herself.”

  “I feel her too. She will wake hungry as you did. I shall feed her.”

  “I could do that,” David said trying not to sound too eager to feel that ecstasy again so soon. “I feel fine.”

  Stephen smiled, not fooled in the least. “I’m sure she would enjoy you, David, as did I. Thank you for the offer, but her first meal needs to be from me. Arcadian’s blood runs in her veins. She is his child and because of that unhappy circumstance, he can command her from a distance as I can with Charles and Danyelle. My blood should counter his sufficiently to weaken his control over her. When he dies at Gavin’s hand tonight, as I don’t doubt that he will, his blood will lose its power over her and she will automatically bond with me. She will become a vampire of my line. Perhaps you will offer again tomorrow? She will need to feed often at first.”

  He nodded eagerly, and Stephen smiled.

  David left his friends to attend to Marie, and wandered through the house looking for Gavin. All he found were bodies and naked shifters looking for friends among the dead and wounded. He thanked the goddess there weren’t many of the former, though there were some. He hoped the missing faces would turn up but braced himself for some bad news tomorrow. He headed outside and found Gavin standing over a headless vampire. His heart sank when he recognised Angel lying upon the ground between the two corpses with Flex and the cop kneeling next to her.

  “Gavin?” he said. “Is Arcadian dead?”

  Gavin nodded to the decapitated corpse furthest away.

  David’s eyes drifted from it to the fallen woman. “Is she...?”

  “She will be well. I will see to it,” Gavin said grimly and went to tend Angel.

  David watched him ignore the cop’s protests to borrow a knife from Flex and slash his wrist. He offered the girl his blood.

  Lawrence chose that moment to arrive. “Is she...?”

  “No. Gavin will fix it.”

  “Damn. That sucks,” Lawrence said and grimaced at the double entendre. “She’ll hate being a vamp.”

  “I don’t know about that. She has a thing for Gavin, and so does Spence come to that. Have you seen him?”

  “He’s okay. I saw him chasing a vamp around the pool out back.”

  David smiled as he imagined that.

  “What will happen, Mister Gavin? I’m scared,” Angel said in a weakening voice. Flex looked on grimly, and the cop looked scared.

  “There’s nothing to fear. You will fall into a sleep without dreams, and when you wake, you’ll be well again. Stronger than ever, Angel.”

  She smiled. “You called me Angel. I... win...” she whispered and closed her eyes.

  “Now none of that!” Gavin cried and slapped her cheek lightly.

  “Ow!” Angel cried, blinking around vaguely. “What did you do that for? I’m so tired.”

  “Drink, Angel, and you may sleep.” Gavin offered his dripping wrist. Angel grimaced at the taste. “Drink. Don’t think about what it is. Pretend its tequila.”

  “I don’t like tequila.”

  “Then pretend it’s that poor excuse for beer you like.”

  Angel swallowed and grimaced but she kept at it and managed to down a few mouthfuls before falling unconscious. Gavin withdrew his wrist frowning at the girl, but unwilling to risk her choking.

  “Will it be enough?” the cop said.

  “I hope so. If she doesn’t die, it will definitely be enough for the bonding.”

  “Like Stephen and Edward?”

  Gavin nodded.

  “And if she dies?”

  “Then in three days I will be a father for the first time in centuries... if she swallowed enough of my blood and if it works.”

  The cop frowned at that but David understood what he meant by it. Turning someone wasn’t the same as being changed into a shifter. Lycanthropy was a sure thing unless outside intervention occurred; even then, the serum wasn’t infallible. Turning someone into a vamp was chancy at best. It involved the death of the recipient for one thing, so no second chances and it didn’t always work. Sometimes they simply failed to come back. No one knew why.

  Gavin sat back on his heels. “Detective?”

  She looked up from Angel’s peaceful face. “Yeah?” her eyes widened as his gaze caught and held hers. “Awww crap...” she began but then her expression turned vague and her pupils dilated.

  “Forget...” Gavin began to chant. “Forget...”

  David shook his head and beckoned to Lawrence. “When he’s done, take her home. Her car is outside the club. Better deal with that too.”

  “I’ll take care of it.”

  David watched as Gavin erased the cop’s memory of all that had happened to her, all the way back to before they had met. She wouldn’t remember a thing. When Gavin was done, he instructed her to sleep and Lawrence carried her away. David frowned as he contemplated how odd his life was now, compared with how he’d lived it before. He could never have imagined back then the things he took in stride daily now. It was a very strange world they all lived in, and his was a very strange life.

  But fun, Mist opined.

  Sometimes.

  Gavin scooped Angel up into his arms and began walking away without a word. Flex put fingers to his mouth and blasted a piercing whistle into the night to summon his gang. They spilled out of the house and chased after Gavin, carrying various valuables they had found. David shook his head at some of the odd stuff they had filched. When would they ever have need of fancy armour and helmets? Maybe they could find a buyer who wouldn’t ask questions. Flex watched them go for a moment before retrieving the Arcadian’s fallen sword.

  “Nice bit of metal,” he said admiring the ancient elven blade. He nodded to David in silence and followed his friends into the night.

  David gathered up both pieces of Arcadian. Barrows would demand proof the deed was done
. He put the body over his shoulder and carried the head dangling by its hair into the house. He found Ronnie attending to Darrin. He had a broken arm. Shifters healed so fast that broken bones could set crooked. She was in the process of re-breaking the arm by the looks of it. Darrin shouted as she braced the limb and struck it a hard blow.

  “You big baby,” she muttered pulling and twisting. Darrin screamed and nearly fainted from the pain. His face went shockingly pale. “There. That’s much better. Change it now.”

  The arm flowed with fur and back to skin. He sighed in relief and worked the limb to check its motion. It looked good to David’s expert eye.

  “Thanks, Ronnie. Any time I can break your bones for you, let me know. It will be my pleasure.”

  She laughed and punched his shoulder lightly.

  “Ronnie!” David called. “Catch!” He threw the head to her and she caught it nimbly. “One Arcadian by name.”

  She juggled the head and held it up to study its face. “Doesn’t look like much, does he?”

  “Not anymore.”

  “We’re done then? I saw Edward and Stephen leaving a few moments ago. They had Michael and that girl with them.”

  He nodded. “Follow me, and bring that with you.”

  Together they left the house and carried Arcadian out to the drive. He dropped his burden in the middle of the gravelled road leading up to the house, and Ronnie placed the head neatly on top for Barrows to find. He turned back to study the mansion as his pack straggled outside weighted down with loot. They laughed and joked with each other as they excitedly recalled and described the fighting.

  He glanced at Darrin as he arrived, and then at Ronnie, thinking about all the bodies inside. “Burn it.”

  * * *

  Epilogue

  Chris startled awake and dropped her keys. She retrieved them from the floor of her car and frowned into the night. She had parked in her building’s lot, but she didn’t remember doing it or even driving home. She must be more tired than she’d thought. She climbed out of the car and locked up, but before she could head inside to find her bed, she noticed someone standing on the far side of the lot watching her. Her hand wandered to the small of her back and her backup weapon, but the guy wasn’t doing anything wrong. Maybe he was waiting for the bus. The stop was right around there.

  She watched him watching her, but he did nothing else. He was a big guy, and heavily muscled. He must spend a lot of time working out. She liked the look, but could never find the time herself. Her caseload was always too heavy for gym time. She used to work out, and back in the day she’d done some kick-boxing at the academy, but she hadn’t done any since gaining her gold shield. She just couldn’t find the time any more. She sucked in her gut, but scowled when she realised what she was doing. She let it out again, wondering why she cared what he thought.

  Just then, a car pulled up and he walked away from her toward it. He had a great butt. She watched him climb into the car a little regretfully, and turned toward her building and the empty apartment and bed it contained.

  * * *

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  Wolf's Revenge: Shifter Legacies 2

  1 ~ Murder

  Lieutenant Chris Humber flashed her badge at the uniformed officer as she swept through the police lines. It looked as if this one had generated a lot of attention. She ignored the cameras buzzing overhead and the media shouting questions as she always did. She was a police officer, not some kind of soap star. One voice sounded more strident than the others—Ed Davis, darling of Channel 5 viewers everywhere. She was careful not to achieve eye contact with him.

  “I think he likes you,” Ken said dryly.

  She grimaced. “I’d like to run him in as a material witness.”

  “I don’t think Cappy would go for that.”

  “Probably not, but it would be fun to try. How did he do it?”

  “Do what?”

  Chris waved a hand at the cameras hovering over the scene with their little rotors whirring busily away. “Get here before us. We got the call what... ten minutes ago?”

  Ken shrugged. “About that.”

  “Ten minutes, and Channel 5 is already set up and filming the body.”

  Ken didn’t comment; he was busy. As her assistant, he had charge of their crime scene kit, the major component of which was a headset for recording audiovisual impressions of a scene. He gently polished the lens of the video pickup as they made their way along the alley, and then inspected it critically. Apparently satisfied, he put on the unit and activated it before adjusting the microphone that followed the line of his jaw.

  “Investigating possible homicide. Case number three-niner-zero, slash two-niner-one. Primary investigating officer: Lieutenant Chris Humber. Also in attendance: Detective Ken Hart—assistant and current operator. Victim is a white male…”

  Chris listened as Ken described the scene for the record. The victim, a white male about thirty to thirty-five years of age, lay in a lake of blood staring at the sky with a very surprised look on his face. He’d had his throat ripped out. His clothes appeared to be his Sunday best, and his mousy-blond hair looked freshly cut. He hadn’t been dead long; the blood was still wet.

  “Someone was out partying last night,” Chris said.

  Ken raised an eyebrow. “How do you figure?”

  “He’s wearing his glad rags, and that’s not a tattoo on the back of his hand.”

  Ken bent to get a closer look and carefully recorded what he saw. “That was awesome.” He straightened and grinned when Chris rolled her eyes at him. “Here less than a minute and you’ve got it figured out. Seriously, Chris, I’m impressed.”

  “Cut it out. You would have seen the stamp eventually.”

  “Probably, but you saw it without half looking!”

  “I was lucky. So, he was partying at Area 51?”

  “Looks like it. The stamp is still pretty fresh.”

  Area 51 used a distinctive stamp—the numerals 5 and 1 in purple ink surrounded by a red circle. They would have to check the ink’s authenticity in a lab to be sure. If genuine, it would prove to be coded at the molecular level, and should match Area 51’s unique and licensed brand. The club itself wasn’t too far away, but the alley wasn’t a convenient route to and from it. Chris wondered if the victim had entered it voluntarily.

  Ken paced slowly around the body; as always, he was careful to document a scene from all possible angles. Chris stepped back to let him pass, and something crunched under her foot—a piece of glass. She crouched, pulling on a pair of latex gloves, and nudged it with a fingertip. Pieces of glass were scattered all around the alley—broken bottles amid the detritus that always accumulated in such places, but this shard was flat and clear. She looked around trying to find a source, but Ken interrupted her.

  He nudged her shoulder. “Look there.”

  She turned to look. “What the hell is Meckler doing here?”

  Doctor Meckler was the coroner. As far as she knew, he spent all his time at the city morgue. He had too much seniority for this sort of thing, and plenty of underlings to attend scenes like this.

  “I never thought to see him outside the morgue.”

  She nodded. “Me neither. I guess he must live somewhere, right? He can’t stay in the morgue all the time can he?”

  “No?” Ken asked as Chris went to intercept Meckler.

  Meckler was chatting with his assistant when Chris joined him. He nodded to her, and together they went to have a look at the victim. Ken had resumed recording while he carefully searched the victim’s pockets for identification.

  Chris watched the search. “Anything?”

  “We have a wallet and driver’s license in the name of Vincent Fairman.”

  “Things are looking up.”

  “Not for Vincent, Lieutenant,” Meckler said, beginning his preliminary examination. He pointed to something, and his assistant leaned forward for a better look at the victim’s rava
ged throat. He nodded, and retrieved something using a pair of tweezers. “Bag it, Samuel.”

  “Yes, Sir,” Samuel said and did that. “Sir?”

  “Hmmm?”

  “Did you notice his teeth?”

  Meckler beamed. “I knew I was right about you, Samuel. Yes I did notice, but well done all the same.”

  Samuel swelled at the praise.

  Chris frowned and crouched beside the body. Her eyes widened when she saw what Samuel had found. Vincent’s teeth had no business being in a human mouth. His canines were long and pointed like those of a dog… or a wolf. She shook her head. She shouldn’t have missed that. Vincent had been a shifter, which made his death even more of a puzzle.

  “What is it?” Ken asked.

  “He’s a shifter,” she said, rising to her feet. She had always prided herself on noticing details; it annoyed her that Meckler had found this one before her.

  “Was a shifter, Lieutenant,” Meckler qualified. “Past tense now you know.”

  Ken bent to look. “How did we miss that?”

  Meckler removed the victim’s shoes and socks. “Did you have any reason to suspect he was a shifter?”

  Chris shook her head.

  “I didn’t think so.” Meckler frowned at the lack of lividity in the victim’s feet and calves. “Samuel, take his temperature would you?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  Ken crouched. “Can you open his mouth just a little more for the record?”

  Samuel nodded and parted the victim’s lips.

  “Thanks.”

  “No prob.”

  Meckler checked for more wounds, but there seemed to be none, not even defensive wounds. The back of the victim’s head interested him, and also the lack of lividity in his feet and calves of his legs. When blood settled into the lowest part of a corpse, it turned the flesh purple. Lividity was one of the ways used to estimate time of death. The lack of defensive wounds suggested to Chris that a vamp had killed Vincent—a vampire could use mind tricks to prevent its victims from struggling. She supposed he could have been surprised by someone he knew, but that seemed unlikely to her. Shifters were fast and strong; they weren’t easily taken by surprise.