Bearly Midnight (Midnight, Mississippi Book 1)

by Kelex

  “Golems are forbidden in the city,” the centaur stated briskly.

  “I’m not a golem. Recovering from a Gorgon attack,” the man said, handing over a set of papers stiffly. “I’m in treatment and need to see a specialist here.”

  The centaur looked over the papers and then turned and waved to another.

  “I’ll handle this,” Theis said as he approached the centaur.

  “Yes, sir,” the centaur said before handing over the man’s paperwork.

  Theis stepped before the suffering man—who’d suddenly began to look nervous. Theis reviewed the papers again before lifting his head and looking up. “Ostende mihi faciem tuam veri sui.”

  “Damn it,” the man said before something shimmered over him and revealed that he was, in fact, a golem underneath a spell of some type.

  Theis handed the papers back. “Golems are not permitted inside the city.”

  The golem lifted his hand and one, solitary middle finger before turning and storming back toward where the train had just arrived. Theis motioned for a couple of the agents to follow and escort the golem out before he turned back to the agent and nodded. He then returned to Colm’s side.

  “How did you know?” Colm asked.

  “It’s something that came with time and training,” Theis said before tilting his glance to Colm. “Which is what you need. This is your first stop. You’ll work in this station first and hone your skills.”

  “What?” Colm asked, frowning. “For how long?”

  “As long as we deem necessary.” Theis chuckled again before waving over one of the agents. It was the beaver-human hybrid who’d been on the line when Colm had arrived two weeks before.

  “Fresh meat,” Theis said to the beaver. “This is Colm. Colm, this is Matioc.”

  “I remember Colm well,” Matioc said, wrinkling his nose.

  There’d been a bit of a scuffle when Colm had arrived. Nothing major, but enough to make seeing the hybrid uncomfortable. “Hello, Matioc.”

  “He’s your shadow… until you think he’s prepared to go it alone. I’ll check in with you at the end of the week to see how his progress is,” Theis said before saluting Colm and spinning away.

  “Wait,” Colm barked before the guard had gotten no more than three steps away.

  Theis turned slowly, the look to his eyes telling Colm the guardsman wasn’t used to having orders barked his way. Colm closed the gap between them, stopping when he was mere inches from the male.

  “You’re just going to leave me here?”

  “I am,” Theis answered, not one bit of emotion on his face.

  Colm narrowed his gaze. “Even though you’re my ma—”

  A gold covered finger over his lips stopped him from finishing his sentence. “What you think you know and what’s truly happening here are two very separate instances. It’s best if you focus on the job at hand. And that job is you… sitting here in this station… until I decide to give you a different task.”

  Colm grabbed the shifter’s wrist and pried the finger from his lips. “I know the truth, no matter what you think. When the ache begins to eat you alive, we’ll see whose truth wins out.”

  There was a little hint that Colm was right when he got a scent of something so rich and delicious he could barely contain himself. He drew in the aroma, closing his eyes as it filled his nose. When he lifted his lids, Theis’ lips parted and the look in his eyes proved he wasn’t unaffected.

  Theis was his. And a bear of some sort, but Colm still wasn’t sure what kind.

  They were two of a triad.

  Once he’d claimed Theis, they’d only need a third to be made whole. A smile played over his lips as he looked down into Theis’ widening stare.

  Theis dragged his hand away and stepped back, almost the same look of shock to his face as Colm had seen on the king’s moments before.

  “Never. Do. That. Again,” Theis spat before spinning and pushing his way through the crowd.

  Colm smiled as he watched the male go. How he loved a chase.

  “Are you done jerking off now?” Matioc asked from just behind him.

  Colm stretched his neck from one side to the other, his body raging to go after the shifter who’d just escaped his hold. He didn’t know how long he could last—the ache was already pounding through him.

  Stronger than he’d ever imagined it would be.

  But he needed more information before he confronted the male again.

  Spinning to face Matioc, he smiled. “Ready.”

  ****

  Once Theis was finally alone, he dragged his helm and gloves off before depositing them onto the counter. He pushed a shaking hand through his hair, his body throbbing with need.

  A mate.

  He’d almost given up on imagining having one. Lifting his stare to the mirror before him, he saw what Colm had seen. The glow to his eyes was bright and anyone who saw him now would know something wasn’t right. He turned on the faucet and splashed cold water on his face a few times, trying to calm his nerves.

  It was no use.

  Theis tore off his armor, piece by piece, until it all lay in a pile. When he was down to his tunic and braes, he tore open the ties and freed his throbbing cock. He couldn’t recall the last time he’d been so driven by his baser needs, but he couldn’t stop himself from seeking absolution.

  He stroked his flesh, images of Colm standing before him flashing through his mind. Closing his eyes, he remembered the warm, masculine scent of the bear shifter and the feel of Colm’s stare on him. It took a matter of seconds to come. He shot his seed into the basin, embarrassed he’d been forced to take care of his body’s needs.

  When it was done, he was still hard and only ached more.

  Theis rinsed the basin before pulling his armor back on. It was much easier to take off alone than it was to put on. After struggling a few moments, he was again the king’s guard—solemn and deadly.

  And aching on the inside.

  The need slamming into him was intense. Fighting it would only make it worse. But fight it, he would.

  Looking into the mirror one last time, he saw the illumination in his eyes hadn’t stopped, either. Colm was nowhere around. The glow should’ve gone away.

  Fuck.

  Chapter Two

  “Hi, this is Reese Whittaker and this week on Paranormal Prowlers, we’re near the Everglades National Park in Florida. Local legends talk of creatures who live within these swamps… creatures neither man nor beast, but both. By day, they look just like you and I, but at night—once the sun goes down—they morph into the very gators that swim these wat—” Reese paused as he watched one of their production assistants back into a can light, knocking it over with thud as it hit the water. Sparks flew as the swamp water hit the electrical system and shorted out the light.

  No sound but the frogs and crickets—and the irritating buzz of the thousands upon thousands of mosquitos swarming them—came for a few seconds.

  “Cut!” Griffin, the director, called.

  The heavy, pregnant moon washed over the swamp, but it still appeared darker after having the can light in his face. Something slithered past his ankle, making him jump from the swamp. Even through his waders, he’d felt it, which meant it was big.

  Irritation washed over Reese. “Fuck me! Come on, guys… this is the third time we’ve tried to shoot this same intro.” He paused to slap at one of the millions of mosquitos swarming him, no matter how much bug spray he’d used. “Can we get our shit together so I can wrap it up and we can move on before I don’t have any blood left in my veins?”

  Someone turned on a handheld lantern as two others tried to drag the submerged can light from the water. Reese walked toward the mess, noticing the production assistant looked well chastised, his face twisted with remorse. “Sorry.”

  “Yeah, I’m sorry, too. For hiring you,” he spat before glancing at one of his producers—Nick. “Are we ready to run through again?”

  Nick glared at hi
m. “If you hadn’t paused on the last word, we could’ve used that shot.”

  “Are you seriously blaming me for that?” Reese cried.

  “No,” Nick murmured, rolling his eyes. “Of course not.”

  Reese took a deep breath, figuring there was no point in drawing this out into another argument. They’d all been doing too much of that lately. The night was hot as fuck, it was the end of their filming season, and they were all tired and cranky, him included. They’d all been under immense stress, over the last months. The show had taken off, and the sudden media attention had been unexpected. “Good. Let’s roll.”

  “We need a few minutes to check the light and reset the camera,” Nick muttered.

  Reese adjusted his shirt, brushing his hands down it to straighten the material. Another production assistant sauntered closer before she applied a little more powder to his nose. Considering the amount of sweat coating his body, he was sure it all looked a hot mess at this stage. He pulled his head back when she went in for a second swipe. “Enough. It’s too hot out here for all that.”

  “Your nose will look shiny,” she argued.

  “Everything’s going to look shiny at this point,” he spat.

  “Your choice,” she snapped, clicking closed her case before spinning and stalking off.

  His co-host, Jeph, looked on from the fringes. “You’ve got this,” he murmured to Reese, just as the can light came back on and nearly blinded him. “Last investigation of the season. Cool off and let’s get this one done.”

  “Back in the water,” Nick instructed him before nodding to their director, Griffin.

  Once Reese was back on his mark, Griffin stopped him with an outstretched palm. “Go,” Griffin said seconds later, pointing.

  Reese repeated the intro to the episode, this time getting it all in one shot. Once the camera stopped rolling, he smiled at the crew. “That’s more like it.”

  “Jeph, you’re up,” Griffin called, ignoring Reese’s comment.

  The animosity on set was really getting to him. How five best friends had become virtual strangers was beyond him. He didn’t like it. Not one bit.

  His shirt already clinging to him, he felt a few rivulets of sweat coursing down his back. It was the last straw. He needed to cool off a few minutes and make a wardrobe change. “I’m going to take a break while you shoot,” Reese said to Jeph before he headed off toward his trailer.

  Jeph started trailing behind him a few steps. “We need to talk.”

  “You’re needed on set,” Reese said, not bothering to turn around. “Later.”

  “You told me later this morning… last night… and yesterday morning. It can’t wait much longer.”

  Reese turned and met Jeph’s stare. “Yeah, alright. After we’re done shooting for the night.” He suddenly got an odd feeling in his gut.

  Jeph nodded. Griffin called him back to set before he could say another word, but from the look in his eye, Reese wasn’t going to like what he heard. He was sure of it.

  He walked past the line of vehicles their team used before coming up on the trailer he called his own. After pulling the hip-waders off and leaving them outside, he climbed into the cold AC and sighed as he leaned against the closed door. “Fuck it’s hot out there. No, not just hot… it’s moist. I feel moist all over and I don’t like it.”

  The fifth and final member of their band of brothers, Hart, sat at the Winnebago’s banquette, chuckling from his laptop.

  “You know, I think you should step in front of the camera and let me do the research for a change,” Reese quipped.

  “Not on your life,” Hart said as his fingers roamed over the keys. “You’re the pretty one—I’m the brains.”

  “I’m no prettier than you. But I do agree you’re the smart one—since you’re not sweating your balls off and coated with mosquitos like my dumbass.” He paused as he heard a buzz of one of the little blood suckers near his ear. After smacking it as it landed on his arm, he cringed at the nice, fat squirt of guts and blood smeared on his arm. “You get to sit in a nice, air-conditioned trailer while I stand out in the swamp and get moist,” he added as he walked over to the tiny sink and washed his hands and arm.

  Hart looked up from his screen. “Please, for the love of god, stop saying that word.”

  “Or what?” Reese asked, a smile crossing his lips.

  “I won’t tell you about the interesting email I just got.”

  Reese lifted a brow, shutting off the water. “As if you could keep anything to yourself.” Hart was known as the resident ruiner. If one had a secret, they didn’t tell Hart. He couldn’t keep a secret to save his ass.

  “Asshole,” Hart said as he clicked a few more keys. He then spun the laptop around to face Reese. “We received a very interesting email about creatures in a town called…” Hart looked over the edge of the screen. “Midnight, Mississippi.”

  A tremor raced up Reese’s spine. His gut was one of his driving forces… and something was telling him to pay attention. He took a few steps closer, suddenly interested. “What creatures?”

  Hart spun the laptop around before Reese could get a chance to read. He moved closer and read over Hart’s shoulder.

  “Easier to say what creatures aren’t listed. Says they’ve seen everything from werewolves to vampires to big huge monster animals in and out of the woods near the outskirts of the town.”

  “The Mississippi woods?” he cringed. It was only night one of a three-night investigation in the swamp, but already enough to make him rule out any outdoor investigations for the next season. “Give me a good old haunted house any day.”

  “Not interested?” Hart asked, looking over with a raised eyebrow.

  Hart always seemed to sense when Reese was on the hook.

  “I didn’t say that. Just too moist to want to lead another outdoor investigation,” he said, sitting down on the opposite side of the booth.

  “You’re truly a prick,” Hart said.

  “Probably the least offensive name I’ve been called today.”

  Hart looked over the top of his laptop. “Once the season is filmed and we can get back home for editing—we’ll be fine.”

  “You sensed it, too?”

  Hart leaned back against the padded seat. “Everyone’s on edge. Nick got a call from the network.”

  Reese tensed. “About?”

  “They want Jeph off the show,” Hart said.

  Reese grimaced. He’d had the same conversation with the execs and they’d told him the same. Refusing, he’d hinted that he’d walk if they got rid of Jeph. They’d all gotten into investigating together, and they’d remain that way. “I suppose that’s why Jeph wants to talk to me?”

  Hart shrugged. “Maybe. I dunno.”

  “They tell Nick why they want Jeph off?”

  Hart met Reese’s stare. “Yeah.”

  Reese rubbed his hands over his face. “Fuck.” He released a sigh. “I suppose somehow this is all my fault?”

  “Deep down, they gotta know that’s not the case.”

  Reese slid out of the booth. “I need to wash up and get a fresh shirt before I head out again. Check out this Midnight place and see if you can dig up any unusual news in the local press… or anything else you’re able to dig up. First, make sure the guy who sent the email isn’t another nutter.”

  “On it.”

  Reese headed to the sleeper portion of the Winnebago and into the bathroom. After a quick wash, he grabbed another shirt. Before heading out, he had Hart spray him all over with hardcore bug spray.

  Hart waved the fumes away from him. “Should’ve done that outside.”

  “They could’ve bit me a million times before the first spray,” Reese said. He saluted Hart and strode out of the trailer. The hot, humid air hit him in the face and instantly made him want to crawl back into the trailer. Once he was back in the hip-waders, he sauntered back to the temporary set and watched as Jeph finished up part of the intro.

  “Okay, le
t’s get both of you on camera,” Nick called out, turning to eye Reese.

  Reese took his mark, and then lifted a hand to pause production. “Jeph… you take my lines… I’ll take yours.”

  Jeph eyed him cautiously before smacking himself in the neck. “Why?”

  Reese shrugged. “Why not?”

  Jeph was silent a moment, appraising him. “Alright.”

  Reese looked at both Griffin and Nick, waiting for one of them to argue. Neither did.

  “On my mark,” Griffin announced to the crew. Seconds later he pointed to Jeph.

  “We’ll be out here for a full three nights—searching the swamps every night for signs of these creatures. During the day, we’ll talk to some locals who’ve come face to face with these beasts and lived to tell the tale.”

  “Hopefully, we make it out of here in one piece,” Reese read off the cards.

  “Now, this swamp is some of the most treacherous land in the United States,” Jeph said as he wandered farther into the water. “Not only do we have to contend with potential shifters out in these waters, but we’ve got normal alligators, snakes, and other deadly animals to avoid. This isn’t your run of the mill investigation, by no means. We are putting our lives on the line just by being here.”

  They both headed closer to a waiting airboat. The flat bottom craft, and their local driver, were ready for a trip deeper into the swamp. Reese eyed the man seated at the controls—the one of two men dumb enough to agree to take them out at night. Stick thin, his skin was dark from the sun, his hair bleached almost blond from the same. Wrinkles etched along his haggard face, and Reese was quite sure he caught a whiff of au de liquor.

  The other driver sat in the other boat, waiting for Nick and Griffin, and other members of the crew. Dark, grizzled, and bearded, the guy looked like someone who’d easily win a bar fight.

  Reese wasn’t about to press his luck, thankful they’d gotten the scrappy driver. Once he’d boarded, their cameraman climbed onto the boat behind him.