Shifter Origins (Series-Starter Shifter Variety Packs Book 1)

by Aimee Easterling

  It was simple, really.

  What was less simple was the elements of Finn's own history that he'd glossed over in his own version of sharing. The manipulations, the sneaking around, the outright thievery that made up such a large portion of his past...and present. Based on Ixchel's reaction to her brothers' behavior, the shifter could guess that she wouldn't be thrilled to know that the cash paying their way to Mexico originated in ancient Egyptian funerary goods. That the clothes he planned to buy in order to replace that adorable but eye-catching lab coat would be funded by a Monet recently snagged out of a major museum.

  I should've just told her. The shifter had started to spill his guts when Ixchel had finished her own tale of woe. The vet probably would've understood how a newly made man dropped into the human world with no family or means of making a living would turn to crime to pay the bills.

  And it was a point in his favor that Finn had never been violent. He didn't even carry a gun, and the bullet hole that throbbed whenever he turned his arm the wrong way was the only wound he'd ever received in the pursuit of ill-gotten gain.

  After all, as a were-jaguar, it was simple to slip in through upper-story windows, to slink around laser-based alarms, to leap over ten-foot fences. He was a darned good cat burglar and didn't need firepower to snag what he was after.

  But Ixchel likely wouldn't see that as a selling point in a potential mate. And Finn wanted to get closer to the vet too much to risk losing her over his profession. Surely he could keep the two avenues of his current life separate until Ixchel trusted him a little more...and until he thought through an alternative way to make a living.

  Keep telling yourself that, you schmuck. Omitting this rather important element of his own life story had been a bad choice and Finn knew it. But a cat would almost always choose present pleasure over the nebulous "right thing to do."

  And, at heart, Finn was very much a cat. So he continued stroking Ixchel's hair in silence until he, like his companion, drifted off into a doze.

  Chapter 20

  "Did you ever think it might not have been the brightest idea to pry Tezzie's statue out of the ground?" Ixchel asked as they snagged new, international burner phones and a Mexican rental car to replace the items they'd left behind on the other side of the Gulf.

  "Every hour on the hour," Finn replied. The trouble was, their parasitic deity seemed to have grown more powerful during the flight rather than less so. By the time they'd picked up the statue at baggage claim, their pet god was able to insinuate his demands into both Finn's and Ixchel's minds without the need for any sort of physical contact at all. I should have tossed the dratted statue when I had the chance, the shifter mused.

  I can hear that, you know, the god griped. And I don't see why it's such an imposition to request that you drive me closer to El Azuzul before you book a hotel for the night. It's not like I can walk there on my own.

  "The problem," Ixchel said, using her most soothing tone of voice, "is that we're both tired out from the trip. Are you sure it'll make a difference if we arrive tonight rather than tomorrow afternoon?"

  Finn hid a grin at his companion's patience, knowing that Ixchel was much better at handling the petulant deity than he was. Good thing she was willing to take the lead with their brain worm, despite apparently being daunted by the human beings they'd spoken with during their shared journey. And here I thought that I was the only one who found human society exhausting.

  Yes, the lost time will make a difference, Tezcatlipoca countered, then continued to rail about the need to find his precious mirror immediately so he could stop feeling so cramped.

  The vet was doing an admirable job of calming Tez down, so Finn tuned the deity out in favor of checking the alerts auto-forwarded to his phone-friendly email address. He'd hired a hacker years ago to wend his way into various government databases, allowing the shifter to set up alarms that would go off if anyone searched for his various handles. More recently, while he and Ixchel had waited in the Atlanta airport, the shifter had taken the time to add a few additional notifications to his alarm list as well.

  Which turned out to be a good thing, even though the results were surprising. Finn was still flying well under the radar...but apparently Ixchel was not.

  "Did you know you're wanted by the CIA?" he asked as he looked up from his phone.

  I am? How delightful!

  Ixchel usually would have rolled her eyes at the god's self-centered exclamation, but instead she frowned and reached for Finn's cell to see for herself. Not that there was much to take in. The alert was remarkably vague, making no request for apprehension. Whoever had set it up could have been trying to pinpoint a criminal, to protect a potential mark, or merely to track down a teenaged daughter who'd run off to Cancun to party during her spring break.

  Still, the notification didn't bode well for the fugitives' future. Not if someone was already hot on their trail.

  "I don't understand," Ixchel said after a long pause. "The CIA is looking for me?"

  "No skeletons in your closet, I assume?" Finn asked, trying to make his companion smile. "No history of international espionage?"

  Ooh, that's a good idea! Tez interjected. I'd make a top-notch spy. Then, deepening his voice even further: My name is Bond, James Bond.

  "Well, Bond," Finn said. "I'm guessing this means you'll get your way after all. Looks like we're heading out into the countryside tonight."

  THE TROUBLE WITH HITTING the road immediately was that Finn was adamant in his belief that he required a new suit of clothes. Sure, the shifter's current jacket was bloodstained and boasted a gaping hole in the upper arm, but Ixchel thought the were-jaguar really should have been complaining about the cavity that lay underneath.

  Strangely, Tezzie and Finn were entirely in accord over the issue. Too true, the wind god chimed in when Finn suggested making a pit stop to pick up fresh clothing before leaving Villahermosa. I hope to speak with my sister god first thing tomorrow, and it would never do to let her catch sight of my followers in such a state of disarray.

  "It'll have to be off the rack, then," Finn said in reply. The shifter's tone suggested that he was being forced to contemplate consumption of a slice of moldy bread, but he nonetheless pulled into the Walmart parking lot without further complaint. And even though Ixchel wanted to remark on the byplay, Tez seemed to find nothing strange about the were-jaguar's reluctance to don cheap attire. So Ixchel chose to hold her tongue.

  Instead, she busied herself by peering up at the big-box store's facade, which appeared identical to the Walmarts back home. Only the subtitle supermercado beneath the store's main sign suggested that Ixchel hadn't just dreamed about her flight to escape Mirabelle.

  Somehow, the vet thought, I'd assumed coming to my parents' home country would be very different. That it would feel as if I was filling a hole that had been left empty for far too long. Instead, she felt even more out of place here in Mexico than she had in the United States.

  "How about we split up and meet back at the car in half an hour?" Finn suggested, breaking into the vet's thoughts as he handed over a rather large sheaf of pesos. Then, taking a closer look at Ixchel's lab coat—which the vet was suddenly ashamed of wearing into a foreign country rather than taking the time to don street clothes—the shifter added, "Tez? Would you mind going along with Ixchel to help her pick an outfit?"

  She certainly needs a fashion consultant, the god agreed, before proceeding to run through a list of colors he believed would match up with Ixchel's skin tone. Cats, Ixchel thought, rolling her eyes.

  Despite the vet's disinterest in shopping, though, she found it surprisingly entertaining to whisper questions to her pet deity as she tried on outfit after outfit at the god's urging. Yes, Tezzie was almost certainly perusing Ixchel's body while she was wearing nothing except underwear. But the bra and panties didn't show any more skin than a bikini would have, and her companion's speech remained remarkably gentlemanly. Just like having a gay best friend.


  Um, no, nothing like that, Tezzie rebutted. But I can tell when a girl's heart is taken. I'm stuck in this statue, so I can't compete with your piece of eye candy. At least not at the moment. But when I get out....

  "Speaking of Finn," the vet began, pretending not to understand the god's meaning. Just what she didn't need—to be the object of an immature god's unrequited lust. "I'm worried about his arm," she continued. "Did you see the way Finn winced when we got out of the car?"

  Ixchel had initially spoken to distract Tezzie from his current train of thought, but the truth was that she'd been meaning to broach this topic for a while. Finn had been stoic about the whole thing. But every time the shifter moved the wrong way or was forced to pick up a heavy object, he cringed. And she cringed right along with him.

  Tezzie was the obvious solution. After all, what was a god good for if not healing the sick? Unfortunately, the deity had seemed too unapproachable previously to ask for a boon of this magnitude. Now, though, Tezzie appeared relaxed for the first time since he'd shown up inside her head. Maybe the moment was right to ask for a bit of help?

  Mmmhmmm, the god hummed noncommittally at Ixchel's leading question. It was almost cute the way Tezzie pouted every time the conversation turned to someone other than himself, but at least he was listening rather than snarking.

  "Well, I was thinking," Ixchel pressed on. "You need us to act as your arms and legs while you're out of commission. And Finn won't be able to help with that if his wound gets infected..."

  So, what, you want me to wave my magic wand and heal him right up? Tez's tone was as snide as ever, but Ixchel had a feeling she was starting to get through to the self-centered deity. Do you realize how much energy it takes to regenerate muscle and skin?

  Ixchel was pretty sure she did know. After all, she'd been a veterinarian long enough to monitor the recoveries of dozens, if not hundreds, of pets.

  And she'd also seen the way Finn's steps dragged as he carried all of his own luggage at the airport. In a typical show of masculine pride, her companion had refused to allow Ixchel to help load the backpack and rolling suitcase into the car even though she had no gear of her own to manhandle. The effort had clearly cost him dearly.

  Yes, Ixchel could have pointed out either or both of those observations. But sometimes it was better to let a reluctant humanitarian-to-be reel himself in. So the vet merely mimicked the god's noncommittal hum and waited.

  Well, all right, Tezzie groused after a moment. But don't say I never gave you anything.

  Then the fabric that currently housed the were-jaguar statue warmed so much Ixchel could feel the heat against her skin. And when the god spoke again, he sounded tired for the first time since she'd known him. As if Tezzie had used up all of his own energy as well as his godly powers curing the shifter who was trying on clothes of his own on the other side of the changing room.

  "Thanks, Tezzie," Ixchel said quietly. And, since she knew that actions spoke louder than words, she also allowed the god to dress her in an obscenely garish outfit that the deity seemed to think "made her eyes pop."

  After all, why not wear lemon yellow when no one Ixchel knew was around to see?

  Chapter 21

  Wake up sleepyheads. It's time to focus on me!

  Well, Tezzie's kinder, gentler side didn't last long, Ixchel thought groggily. She and Finn had fallen into their bed fully dressed the night before, exhausted from being chivvied by their personal god all the way from the airport to Acayucan. And now the deity was acting as a highly effective alarm clock, one that you could neither put into snooze mode nor throw across the room...no matter how much you wanted to.

  I guess I'd better give in to the inevitable, Ixchel thought, stretching. Then she opened her eyes far more quickly than she'd planned when her fingers rubbed up against soft fur rather than fabric or human flesh.

  The previous night, Ixchel had been delighted when Finn fell asleep with one arm slung around her shoulders. A memory which she now recalled with a decided emphasis on the word arm. Because the vet was shocked to see that a tremendous black jaguar currently lay stretched out on the other side of the king-sized bed, one paw inches from her nose.

  The feline was magnificent, his hair shiny with good health and his tail flicking rhythmically as he either dreamed of the hunt or attempted to fight off Tez's internal wake-up call. And despite the fact that her companion was a predator who could likely bite her in half, the warmth of the shifter's sleeping form drew Ixchel in until she couldn't resist running one hand gently over Finn's shoulder and down his spine.

  He's magnificent.

  And terrifying, of course. Or, at least, the jaguar should have been terrifying since his tail alone extended for nearly three feet past his haunches. Ixchel remembered reading that jaguars enjoyed killing their prey by biting directly through the skull, and on that note she told herself to slide out of the bed as quietly as possible in order to put some space between herself and the apex predator. If Finn had changed forms in his sleep without meaning too, who knew what other unconscious behaviors he'd exhibit while coming awake at an annoying god's prompting?

  I'm not annoying, Tez groused. But you're right. You should definitely back away. Don't want you getting your arm bitten off. At least, not until I'm done using that arm....

  Ixchel narrowed her eyes. If the trickster god wanted her to put some space between herself and a sleeping Finn...then she felt duty bound to do the exact opposite.

  So, the vet squelched her fear and slid closer to her companion so her body pressed up against his feline form. Then she placed her hand on his fur more firmly this time, pretended the jaguar was a much-enlarged pussycat, and she stroked the feline's head.

  FINN CAME AWAKE SLOWLY, imagining that his mother was licking him clean the way she'd done so many years before. Pushing his skull closer to her ministrations, the shifter next realized that he was indeed in feline form...and that it was Ixchel's smooth hand, not his mother's sandpaper tongue, running across his fur.

  She must be terrified, he thought, and shifted without waiting for his brain to come fully awake. No way was the were-jaguar going to scare his companion away by placing a tremendous feline beside her sleepy body. (Although how scared could the vet possibly be if she reacted by petting his head?)

  Ixchel's lack of terror was no excuse for his own poor behavior, though. What had Finn been thinking, falling into bed with a woman and waking up as a cat? A similar event had never happened to him before...but Finn had also never spent the entire night with a lover, preferring to slip back into his clothes and sneak away while his bed partner was still asleep.

  And she's not a lover, Finn reminded himself. Although I'd certainly like her to be.

  Catlike, the thought slid seamlessly into motion. Before either of the bed's occupants had time to think or speak, Ixchel was trapped beneath Finn's human body, her clothes pressing against his bare skin as he reached for her lips with his own.

  Bare skin? Well, that had never happened before either. Now Finn would have to go shopping again. Not that he minded in the least, since he'd actually prefer there to be less fabric between him and his mate....

  "Um, Finn? What happened to your clothes?" Ixchel mumbled into his mouth. But she didn't sound frightened, so the shifter simply allowed his kiss to swallow up her words, his squirming body pushing up the bottom edge of her shirt so their bare skin could finally touch.

  As much as I'd love to stay and watch the show, kiddies, we've got a busy agenda today. So....

  The god's words barely impinged on Finn's consciousness since Ixchel's hands continued running across his skin the same way they had while he was in feline form. The shifter had never felt so accepted for who he really was, and he'd also never been so profoundly attracted to a woman as to this quiet bombshell who was arching her soft body against his as they sank together into the plush bed.

  I said, it's time to go.

  When Ixchel's hands left his skin, Finn sighed in disappointment.
Then he moaned with pleasure as those same feminine hands slipped down between their bodies to unbutton her blouse and slide the fabric out of their way.

  "May I?" he almost purred, reaching behind her back to finish the job by flipping open the clasp of her bra one-handed.

  NOW!

  Then, abruptly, Finn had returned to feline form and Ixchel was curled in on herself, hands cupping a head that must have been pounding as hard as his own. I guess even a trapped god has a way to ensure we do his bidding.

  Perhaps you didn't hear me the first time, Tezcatlipoca broadcast grimly. So let me clarify. What you do on your own time is your own affair. But while I'm stuck inside this stupid statue, you're on my time. So MOVE!

  And then Finn found himself standing on two human feet, fully clothed and with the morning's glorious erection a thing of the past. Apparently, the aftereffects of being manhandled by a god were more efficient than a cold shower. And much, much worse.

  "Okay, Tezzie," Ixchel replied, seeming less shaken than Finn was by the unwelcome intrusion into her brain. Or perhaps his partner simply hadn't been as affected by the events that had preceded Tezcatlipoca's temper tantrum? Finn hoped, for his own sake, that the vet was simply more able than he was to deal with godly distemper.

  "You're a jealous bully," the vet continued. "But you win. We're going."

  As she spoke, Ixchel stood and reached around to refasten her bra, breasts thrust forward by the action. Finn tried to tell himself to look away, but then his companion's smoldering eyes met his and the joining nearly lit him on fire.

  "Once we ditch the third wheel, I owe you a real date," Finn promised, more to himself than to Ixchel, whom he'd thought wouldn't be able to hear him from the other side of the room.