Scandalous Shifters Paranormal Box Set

by Mia Taylor

  The phone at her desk rang, saving Victoria from having to make a comment. She snatched it up, averting her eyes from her husband.

  “Yes?” she answered quickly. Her grey eyes darkened dramatically and she handed the cordless receiver to Ryker without another word into the phone.

  “It’s Samuel,” she muttered. Ryker accepted the phone sheepishly and Victoria grabbed her purse, heading toward the door. She had no interest in listening even to Ryker’s side of the conversation.

  His former father-in-law and partner was a thorn in Victoria’s side. Ryker’s close relationship with Samuel Crowe had been a bone of contention with Victoria for years. She had slowly learned to accept that Samuel was always going to be a fixture in their lives no matter how much it pained and aggravated her.

  The matter was not that of a new wife jealous of her husband’s past. No, Victoria genuinely despised Samuel Crowe.

  The things we do for love, she thought wryly.

  “Where are you going?” Ryker mouthed at her but Victoria pretended not to see him as she slipped out the door.

  She needed to clear her head and despite the misery of the day, Victoria could not bear the thought of spending one more day within the walls of the condo.

  “Ma’am, are you leaving?” Riley called after her as she opened the front door to the penthouse. She paused to give him an exasperated look.

  “Yes, Riley. What is it?”

  There was an uncomfortable silence and Victoria was forced to turn and look at the young aide.

  “Just… be careful, please,” he almost whispered. Victoria stared at him for a moment, her blood running cold as she recognized true fear in his eyes. She forced a tight smile.

  “You needn’t worry about me, Riley. I have been up against worse than a few angry Liberals.”

  She didn’t wait for the assistant to reply, walking confidently from the condo with a surety she did not feel. She wasn’t convinced she had nothing to fear, despite Ryker’s constant assurances.

  In the underground parking garage, Victoria sat in her Mercedes, her hands pressed firmly against the steering wheel. If she was not wearing black driving gloves, she was sure her knuckles would match the creamy interior of the vehicle. She had a terrible sense of foreboding, escalated more so now that she’d left the suite.

  I need to go for a drive and clear my head, she thought. I’ll drive up to the Hamptons and come back. Hell, I may even stay there tonight. I think there’s a bottle of pinot grigio chilling in the fridge.

  She put the car in reverse but before she could back out of the spot, a figure appeared at her window. Victoria did not see anything but the baseball bat coming toward her face through the windshield. Instinctively, she threw her arms up to protect her face as the glass became a spider web, the sickening crack shattering the window. She didn’t realize she had released her foot from the gas and the car slipped back out of the parking spot, the rear of the car smashing into a concrete divider.

  As the airbag deployed, smashing into Victoria’s face, her last thoughts before unconsciousness were of Ryker and the mess he had created.

  Again.

  Chapter Two

  What Happened?

  “Okay, Sam, see you on Sunday at the club, then,” Ryker laughed. He waited for his partner to respond before hanging up the phone. Immediately, his face lost the phony smile which had christened his features and he scowled out into the rain.

  Only a few more weeks and then we can spin the Senate on its head, Ryker thought to himself, but the thought did not help with his ulcer which had suddenly decided to flare in his stomach. That phrase had become his mantra and even he was tiring of hearing himself say it. The endless acting was wearing thin on his nerves.

  “Victoria?” he called, but as her name fell from his lips, he remembered she had left.

  She always disappeared when Samuel Crowe called and went out of her way to avoid him at social functions. Ryker wasn’t sure if she genuinely did not like the man or if the fact that he was his ex-wife’s father made her uncomfortable. It didn’t matter. Samuel would always be around and while Victoria knew better than to make an issue of it, Ryker would have to have been blind not to see how much his wife loathed the time he was forced to spend with the man.

  Sighing, he walked from the study toward the living room where Riley was poring over his computer, his brow furrowed in seriousness.

  I need to find an antacid before my stomach has a gaping hole at the abdomen.

  Without acknowledging Riley, Ryker headed down the impossibly long hallway toward the master bedroom at the end.

  Maybe Victoria is right. Maybe this is going too far, but we are so incredibly close. They will never see us coming and we can do so much good for the people of New York—hell, for the entire United States. I can’t give up now. Imagine being the first real shifter in office. The world is at our fingertips now.

  Still, the tension was beginning to get the better of Ryker and he knew that despite her cool exterior, Victoria was feeling overwhelmed by the attention. She’d given up her years in the spotlight purposely and he had dragged her back in.

  He opened the door to the master suite and beelined for the bathroom, pulling through the medicine cabinet for his prescription-strength reflux medication. He popped two, despite the warning on the package, and put his hands flat on the countertop, leaning forward to stare at himself in the mirror.

  I’m getting old, he thought wryly. True, Ryker was almost two hundred and fifty years old, but he still looked like a man in his late thirties, thanks to his genetics. He had a well-maintained physique. He had an affinity for fine scotch and handmade cigars, but he genuinely tried to outweigh his debaucheries with healthy eating and regular exercise. So far, he had been successful in warding off any of the usual ailments which began to threaten men his age, but that had more to do with his birthright than good luck.

  “You better not get fat,” one of his colleagues once joked. “Being married to a former supermodel, you best be in shape or she’ll trade you in for a younger guy.”

  Ryker had snorted in his usual cocky fashion.

  “My wife isn’t going anywhere. She belongs at my side, just as all women belong with their men. I can balloon out to four hundred pounds and she’ll still be at home waiting for me with dinner on the table,” he had retorted.

  They had all murmured their approval, wishing that their own wives were as obedient.

  He looked at his full head of chestnut hair and flashed his teeth to look for imperfections. Of course, they were as white as the fresh winter snow, his fangs gleaming in the subtle bathroom light.

  Maybe I’m not so bad for an old guy.

  He turned from the mirror. He still had several phone calls to make before the end of the day, but he wasn’t sure he had it in him. He considered taking a nap instead.

  I’ll wait for Victoria to get back and we’ll have a bath together and sleep for a few hours, just like we used to do when we were first married.

  It seemed to Ryker that they did fewer and fewer of those romantic activities as their marriage aged. He idly considered that maybe he was spending his energies in the wrong place.

  “Sir!” Riley flew into the bathroom, almost knocking Ryker down. He scowled at the aide. Riley knew that the master suite was off limits but before Ryker could reprimand the assistant, he saw the look of panic in the young man’s dark eyes.

  “What happened?” Ryker asked, filled with dread.

  “Your wife was just attacked in the underground. An ambulance is on its way.”

  ~ ~ ~

  “Oh, for heaven’s sake, I’m fine,” Victoria snapped, waving away the nurse as if she were a pesky bee. “This is ridiculous.”

  “That is what I am here to ensure, Mrs. Duvall,” she replied, persevering despite Victoria’s attempts to stop her. She firmly took hold of Victoria’s wrist, checking her pulse. Nodding, she stepped back.

  “The results from your scans have come back n
ormal. We don’t believe you have any major injuries,” the nurse informed her and Victoria rolled her eyes.

  I’m a bear shifter, you fool. The fact that I’m even lying here in this bed is inane.

  “You didn’t need to tell me that. It’s my body. I’m sure I know when something is wrong,” she bit back, wishing they’d leave her alone.

  “Be that as it may, Mrs. Duvall, sometimes things are happening behind the scenes that no one can see.”

  The nurse, a young girl, likely fresh out of school, gave Victoria a meaningful look. Victoria averted her eyes, pretending not to understand the innuendo in the practitioner’s words, but the message was clear.

  She thinks I am being abused by Ryker, she thought grimly. She wouldn’t be the first person to make that assumption.

  Initially, it had been amusing, hearing the tidbits of gossip at the club or in five-star restaurants.

  It was unfathomable to people that she could be married to a man who believed that a wife should remain home to take care of her household. Somehow that translated into domestic abuse.

  Sometimes, Victoria would receive a Twitter message from a women’s shelter or a female divorce lawyer, but as the election continued forward, the trickle of covert sympathy became an overt crusade of animosity. The comical aspect quickly disappeared as she became a target of hate and accusations based strictly on Ryker’s over-the-top rhetoric.

  Cautiously, Victoria watched the woman from her peripheral vision. She seemed to be poring over Victoria’s chart but the blonde got the sense that the nurse was not reading at all.

  “Where is my husband?” Victoria demanded. Ryker had ridden to the hospital with her but she had not seen him since they arrived. The young woman barely glanced up.

  “He’s in the waiting room, talking to the police.”

  Victoria cringed inwardly.

  Please don’t be using this as an opportunity to feed your campaign, Victoria thought, but she knew her husband well enough to know that was more than likely what he was doing.

  “Can you ask him to come in when they’re finished?” Victoria asked and the nurse shrugged.

  “I imagine the police will want to speak with you first,” she answered, snapping the chart closed and putting it at the foot of the bed.

  A frisson of alarm coursed through Victoria’s body but she wasn’t exactly sure why. Naturally the police would want to speak with her. They needed to get her eyewitness account of what had occurred if they had any hope of catching her assailant.

  “Well, have them hurry up. I’d like to leave this germ-ridden environment sooner rather than later. If I’m not ill now, I will be if I spend much more time in here,” Victoria snapped.

  The girl did not hurry her steps but she did offer an almost imperceivable nod to indicate she’d heard. Victoria had a feeling that she was not going to ask the police to do anything.

  As she left, Victoria gently touched her own forehead. The airbag had left a decent bruise on her face but she had been more startled than hurt. It was already healed, she was sure. The fact that she’d fallen unconscious was baffling in itself. She chalked it up to exhaustion. The past few months had not allowed her much in the way of sleep.

  It was only a matter of time before something like this happened. I’m just grateful it wasn’t a bullet. It’s much harder to hide healing from a bullet than it is a bruise.

  There was a soft rap on the door and two uniformed officers poked their heads into the room.

  “Mrs. Duvall?” the tall female cop asked. “I am Officer Bellissi and this is Officer Daniels. Can we come in for a few minutes?”

  Victoria sighed and waved them inside.

  “Yes. Come in.” There was no point in prolonging the inevitable. Obligingly, the duo entered and stood beside her bed. Victoria felt as if they were sizing her up.

  “Do you feel up for answering a few questions? We find that it is best to get as much information as possible as soon as we can. The longer we wait, the fuzzier the details become.” The man spoke this time and Victoria likened him to a Danny DeVito impersonator. The partners were polar physical opposites. She was modelesque while he belonged in an Abbot and Costello skit. In a different circumstance, Victoria would have offered Officer Bellissi a job.

  “Yes, but I’m afraid I don’t have much information to provide. I didn’t see who it was,” Victoria told them quickly.

  “Can you tell us if the assailant was a male or female?” Officer Daniels pressed. Victoria shrugged and shook her now loose blonde hair which fell in a disarray about her slender shoulders.

  “I have no idea. I remember a dark hoodie and a baseball bat. But we have surveillance cameras everywhere in the underground. Surely one of them picked up something.”

  Bellissi nodded, glancing over at Daniels, who pretended to jot his notes on a pad.

  “Yes, we have officers going over the tapes right now,” she said slowly but Victoria could tell by her expression that the search was not proving fruitful.

  “Do you have any enemies, Mrs. Duvall? Anyone who would want to hurt you?”

  Victoria laughed mirthlessly and cocked her head.

  “Do you know who my husband is?” she asked bluntly. “Everyone wants him dead and by extension, me.”

  The cops exchanged a knowing look.

  “Your husband tells me that you received a death threat only today.” Victoria nodded in affirmation.

  “Where can we find that?” Daniels asked, continuing to scrawl in his book.

  “I’ll put you in touch with our assistant, Riley,” Victoria told them. “I told him to take care of it.”

  The officers nodded and looked at one another again. Victoria narrowed her eyes, sensing something between them.

  “What is it?” Victoria demanded. Bellissi forced a smile and shook her head.

  “I am just going to ask you some routine questions now, Mrs. Duvall,” she said, sitting in a chair.

  Oh, this cannot be a good sign, Victoria thought, eyeing the cop.

  “How long have you been married to Mr. Duvall?”

  “Fifteen years next month.”

  “Any children?”

  “No, none.”

  Victoria was becoming antsy. These were all answers they could find with a Google search. As if detecting her annoyance, Daniels took over questioning.

  “How is your home life with your husband?”

  Victoria blinked and then laughed.

  “My husband is running for Senate. I would say that sometimes, matters get…tense.”

  They don’t have to know the truth. Our relationship has nothing to do with this incident, Victoria thought, but as she said the words, she wondered if she had made a mistake.

  “I see. Do you fight?”

  “Are you married, Officer Daniels?” Victoria retorted. “Of course we fight. It’s practically in the fine print of the marriage license.”

  “Physically?” It was Bellissi who chimed in this time.

  Ah, et tu, police? It’s the double team. I should have seen this coming.

  “No.” Victoria’s voice was flat and she met their eyes evenly, but she could clearly see the doubt written in both their expressions.

  “Anyway, what difference does it make if Ryker and I fight or not? Our relationship has nothing to do with what happened today.”

  “He doesn’t seem too concerned,” Daniels muttered. Victoria leaned forward to stare at him.

  “What makes you say that?”

  “He’s holding a press conference in the waiting room.”

  Victoria was beyond irritated both with Ryker and with the police, but she maintained her unflinching manner.

  “He is in politics. It is nearly impossible to escape the press,” she retorted. “Are we quite finished here?”

  “Almost.”

  Bellissi took a visible breath and Victoria braced herself for what was coming.

  “Is there a chance that this attack was something your husband orchestra
ted?”

  Victoria was shocked at the question.

  They have to ask that. They have nowhere else to look, she thought. She wasn’t sure if she should be indignant or calm, but all she could feel was a deep sadness.

  “My husband had nothing to do with this,” she replied, trying to steady her emotions.

  “How can you be sure?” Bellissi pressed. “He seems to have a low opinion of women. Perhaps you did something to defy him and he wanted to put you in your place? Maybe you had an argument before you left the house? Your assistant says you left rather quickly.”

  “If you spoke with Riley, then you would know Ryker was home while this occurred,” Victoria snapped. “And Ryker has a very high opinion of women. Just because he has a more traditional view than some, doesn’t make him a brute.”

  “That doesn’t mean he didn’t hire someone to do it,” Daniels replied softly. “I know it is hard to accept and that you probably love your husband very much, but it is something we have to consider, Mrs. Duvall.”

  Victoria pursed her lips and sat back, blinking away a sudden onset of tears. She could not allow for them to see her distress. They would confuse her emotion for acknowledgement. She closed her eyes instead and shook her head.

  “You need to go,” she told them. “You are way off base. I suggest you direct your energies toward finding the menace who performed this atrocity and away from my husband.”

  “How can you be sure it wasn’t someone he hired?” Bellissi pushed. Without opening eyes, Victoria continued to shake her head.

  “Because you don’t know Ryker like I do.”

  Chapter Three

  Fifteen Years Ago

  “You misogynistic ass! Get the hell out!”

  A vase followed Victoria’s words, shattering over his head at the door and Ryker froze like a deer in the headlights, shocked at the outburst.

  “Toria! I—”

  “Get out! That was a warning. Next time I won’t miss!”

  Ryker did not need to be told a third time. He ripped open the door and rushed onto the front porch before Victoria could follow through.