by Casey Lane
Raven smiled sadly. He remembered the times when he and Niya would play like that. “It’s nice to see a little bit of love though, isn’t it?” he responded.
Anna patted his arm. “Don’t worry. You’ll find her.”
Stunned, Raven stared at Anna for a few seconds before shifting his gaze to his plate. He’d always wondered if Anna had known about his relationship with the dragon queen. He remembered the looks she used to toss him, those little knowing smiles, when he’d talk about the dragons. But she’d never said anything, and he’d eventually dismissed the idea as him being paranoid.
Raven was saved from responding by Matthew, who came hobbling in, back from his meeting with Prince Gareth. “Hi,” Matthew said brightly as he let his cane drop to the floor and sat in the chair next to Raven.
“Hi, yourself.” Raven raised an eyebrow at the young man’s appearance. He was flushed and the silly smile wouldn’t leave his face. His hair was ruffled and his normally impeccable suit was wrinkled. In short, Matthew looked like he’d been ravished. Raven couldn’t help but wonder about the logistics of having sex with Matthew’s bad leg. But clearly, Matthew and Gareth had figured it out just fine.
Matthew grabbed Raven’s fork and helped himself to a chunk of cake. “Yum,” he said.
Anna laughed and pushed her own cake over to Matthew, who looked at her with a delighted expression. “Do you want me to get you some dinner?” Anna offered.
Mouth full, Matthew shook his head. He swallowed before talking. “No, thanks. Gareth fed me. I just felt like something a little sweet.”
Raven glanced over at Leith in time to see him slam back a drink before getting up to prowl around the room. He mentally shook his head. He couldn’t figure Leith out. One second he treated Matthew like a little brother, the next, he pouted when Matthew found someone who was interested in him. Did the man return Matthew’s feelings or was he just jealous because now the younger man had seemed to put aside his hero worship and was spending time with someone else instead of following him like a puppy?
Matthew’s smile had dimmed a little when Raven turned around again. He presented Raven with a sheaf of papers and attacked Anna’s cake with what Raven recognized to be forced enthusiasm. “The negotiations went well. Basically, as long as we make a genuine effort to help in the search for the queen, the dragons will fight by our side whether we’ve found her or not. But Gareth included some reports on where the dragons have searched and where they suspect she might be being held. That’s why there are so many papers.”
Raven pushed his cake closer to Matthew, knowing the boy would eat it all, and shuffled through the papers, concentrating on the reports Matthew had mentioned. He was more hopeful he’d find his love now than he had been in years. I promise, Niya. I will rescue you.
He flipped a page and felt a tingle run up his arm. He froze as a giant wave of power rushed over him.
The power was still radiating through him when he finally managed to move his eyes and search the room for the seeker. Leith had gone rigid and a look of intense concentration was on his face.
“The earth handler has come into his magic.”
Raven shot to his feet. “Find him, Leith. Before the Takahashis do.”
The End
Stay tuned for the second book in the Handlers series, where nothing is as it seems.
About the Author
Lynn lives in Ontario, Canada with her husband and children. She spends her days writing about werewolves and vampires, and longs for a pet unicorn of her own.
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Silverthorne and Fang
Jennifer Hilt
Silverthorne & Fang © 2017 Jennifer Hilt
* * *
All rights reserved under the International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
Warning: the unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in prison and a fine of $250,000.
Silverthorne & Fang
Forbidden Love Sucks.
Vampire and LA pathologist Harriet Silverthorne owes her life to her ex lover, Fang. When she receives a request to investigate his wife’s disappearance in Nowhere, New Mexico, that’s the last place she wants to be. However a debt must be honored. In her quest to find out what really happened to Fang’s wife, she’ll face shifters, trolls, and one very fussy shitzu.
Sheriff Caleb Fang can’t help but be pleased when Silverthorne returns to Nowhere, even if he didn’t have anything to do with his wife’s disappearance. As the investigation intensifies and the body count in this isolated New Mexico community rises, something sinister lurks.
Can Silverthorne clear Fang’s name and get out of Nowhere with her professional reputation intact? Or is Silverthorne playing right into the hands of a villain with a sharpened stake?
Chapter One
Silverthorne
As a vampire, hell didn’t scare me but high water is another matter. There is no outrunning a flash flood. Get to high ground or die; it’s that simple.
Fang and I started climbing up the sandstone canyon walls, fast as we could. The late-October rain turned the river water blood red beneath us. It carried rocks and dislodged trees as it roared through the canyon.
We knew better, even ten years ago. There were warnings. We ignored them. Fang was a new sheriff but without a deputy. Having just completed an agonizingly slow rotation in my medical training at the small paranormal hospital that served Nowhere, New Mexico, I was asked to stay in town for a short stint to assist him. Before going to medical school I’d worked as a US Marshal for decades. Vampires tend to have impressive resumes, given the lengths of our second lives. Mine was better than most.
With long nights of not much to do during our overnight work hours, we took to running in the mountains. I loved running. Fang hated it in humanoid form, but, he being a shifter, his wolf was a different story. We tracked each other, enjoying the break from the monotony of office work. We’d been doing this for about two weeks when one night we found ourselves deep in a canyon as the rain began.
The rain pounded. Thunder and lightning added to the mix. The sound was deafening, echoing off the steep walls. Speaking was impossible. Only escaping mattered, and that meant climbing.
In his wolf form, Fang leapt from ledge to ledge, glancing back at me as he rose higher and higher.
“Don’t stop.” I grunted. “I’m right behind you.”
He ignored my request, continuing to check that I was following him. His fur was soaked. His lovely red-brown coat, now soaked, blended in with the landscape.
I ducked when a rock loosened by his leap narrowly missed my head.
I wasn’t so lucky the second time. I ducked again, but the rock hit the back of my head and then bounced down to my shoulder before disappearing in the swirling waters below.
“Fuck!” That hurt. Maybe not all that badly, but it surprised me. Not much did that these days.
The wolf pivoted on an impossibly small perch, ready to come back down. He cocked his head. Rain slicked his fur back like a seal’s.
I grunted and dug my fingers into the rock so hard some pieces crumbled under my ribs. Well, shit. This was seriously sucking.
We continued climbing.
Then I glanced up, expecting t
o see either the back end of a wet wolf or his pointed face staring down at me.
Instead, I saw nothing.
What the hell? I would’ve known if he’d fallen past me.
Grunting, I kept going. Hand over hand. Feeling each toehold.
The next time I glanced up, the wolf was back. He was on a ledge. The wind blew the rain into my face; I couldn’t see behind him. Water dripped off his black whiskers, but his eyes were bright and I swear he wiggled his eyebrows at me.
The rain hadn’t lessened, but the rushing water below me didn’t sound quite so close.
My head hurt. The rock that hit me must’ve been bigger than I’d thought. I had a pretty high pain tolerance.
“Here.” I looked up. Fang extended his hand.
He was lying on the ledge, still a way above me. And now no longer wolf but man. He was soaked, water dripping in his eyes. This time I was sure: he did wiggle his eyebrows at me.
“Come on, Hattie. Trust me. Give me your hand.” He was stretched, his shoulders hanging over the edge. One hand gripping the ledge, the other gesturing impatiently for me.
My fingers and toes were all that was keeping me from dropping however many feet were between me and the canyon floor below. Letting go to try and reach him wasn’t something I wanted to do.
I was stuck, literally between a rock and a hard place. I couldn’t go any higher on my own; the cliff above me was sheer. My fingers and toes ached. Waiting here until the rain stopped and waters receded wasn’t an option.
“Dammit, Hattie, come on. That tiny little vamp heart of yours knows you can trust me.”
Fang wasn’t a curser by nature. It was one of the many elements I found disappointing about him, some throwback to a more prudish nature. I’d often wondered about it.
By contrast, I loved cursing. Not only did I like the actual words, I enjoyed the listener’s shock at the way my language contrasted with my youthful appearance.
Seeing as how this might be my last opportunity, I let loose with a string of my favorite lovelies. I was still concentrating on my grips, but I was gratified to discern Fang’s wincing.
This was it. I was going to die again. I’d been invincible for so long that I was surprised by my own fear.
What surprised me was how much I didn’t want to die again. This time there would be nothing to save me. Even I couldn’t survive a fall from this height. And if I met with a branch on my way down, I’d be staked before I even hit the water. Always those same old vamp weaknesses—wooden stakes, silver, and garlic.
“Come on.” Fang extended himself so that the tips of his fingertips were probably within reach.
If I’d been human, there would be no way I could survive this. But I wasn’t human; my reflexes were faster. I was stronger.
“Coward,” he muttered.
That was it. I let go with my right hand, simultaneously reaching up for his outstretched one. Both our hands were wet. My fingers grazed his, but my hand slipped.
For a second, I was nearly in free-fall, clinging only by my left hand.
His face, framed by determination, would be the last thing I’d see.
I was shocked not by the fact that I was going to die but by something much more surprising.
I loved him.
Fang’s reflexes were faster than normal too. He grunted and extended more, locking our palms.
He pulled as I scrabbled up.
“Stop moving. You’re making it harder.” He grimaced.
It seemed like a long time, but eventually I was able to reach his ledge with my other hand. I pushed my toes against the wall as he hauled me over the edge.
As soon as I was on the ledge on my hands and knees, I collapsed. My toes still dangled over the abyss.
Fang rolled over, still breathing heavily. He stretched his right arm.
“You’re a lot heavier than you look. Must be all that attitude.”
I could hear the smile in his voice.
Turning my head to the side, I was greeted by his bare feet, ankles, and calves.
I closed my eyes. “You’re naked.”
“No thanks, huh?” Fang huffed. “What do you think, I carry a change of clothes around my neck like some kind of Saint Bernard?”
That was an amusing image.
“Thank you, Fang.”
“You’re welcome.” He sat up, groaning excessively. Shifters are so dramatic.
“Come on, let’s get out of this storm.” He rolled to his feet.
He was very naked.
He ducked his head to enter a cave set into the sandstone.
“Are you going to lie there admiring the view all night?” he called.
I crawled inside the cave. The ceiling opened up to a comfortable standing height for him. My vision was a bit blurry, and my head was really hurting now.
“That bad, huh?” He eyed me.
I didn’t answer, since I was concentrating on not passing out. I sat down by a wall but leaned forward, letting my head drop to my bent knees.
“Let me take a look.” He squatted next to me, but I batted his head away without looking at him.
“It’s fine.” I found his nakedness disconcerting. What the fuck was wrong with me? Vampires were the polar opposite of prudes.
Sex with humans was inconsequential. I tired of it long ago, all that frailty and weeping. Besides, naming your food is never a good idea. Some vampires preferred making other vampires, but it was a tedious and messy process. Besides, I was not interested in having anyone tethered to me long term.
Any kind of sexual activity between vampires was allowed and even encouraged. And if you wanted to casually fuck another paranormal, go ahead. What was strictly forbidden was emotional attachments between vampires and non-vampires. There was technically no problem with loving another vampire, but in my two hundred years I’d not seen or heard it. Try sticking two magnets with like charges together and you’ll see what I mean.
Back to the forbidden love problem. This was more than just frowned on. It was a stakeable offense. Other paranormals were able to reproduce. Vampires could only do so by draining a human and replenishing him or her with our blood.
I’d never paid much attention to this, because I didn’t see it pertaining to me, ever. I liked my independence. If I was going to live forever, I might as well only have to worry about myself.
All this is to say that I was feeling very confused, which was not me at all. I couldn’t possibly love Fang.
The back of my head was still bleeding. That was it: I had a concussion.
Outside the rain and lightning continued. The cave was dry, which was a big improvement.
I shivered.
Fang sat down beside me and loosely put his arms around me.
Such was the disparity in our size that he pretty much engulfed me.
I reflected on my coworker. He was an excellent tracker. He didn’t talk much, which was a relief. Shifters tended to be chatty. My boss at the hospital said Fang was a lone wolf, without a pack. He’d been found as an orphan and grew up out here in Nowhere.
There was something familiar about him that initially put me at ease. He reminded me of the cowboys I’d seen in my human youth, physical creatures capable of great violence toward humans but deeply attached to their horses and nature.
He didn’t irritate me, but surely that wasn’t love?
Digging further, I found that I felt a sense of peace and a feeling of completeness around him. The latter was new but not unwelcome, even if surprising.
We sat like that, not speaking for some time, while the storm outside the cave opening raged.
“Are you smelling my hair?” I asked.
Fang’s chuckle rumbled through his chest against my back.
“I like how you smell.”
I sniffed. I liked how he smelled too. Doggy, but that was normal for wolf shifters. Besides that, he smelled familiar. That was odd. I’d never been interested in dogs—or any kinds of pets, for that matter.
My hand stole over to his crotch. At my touch his thick cock sprang to life. Fang leapt away from me as though I’d poured hot oil into his lap.
“Hattie, no. We can’t.” His breathing was coming fast now. He glanced toward the opening of the cave. A flash of panic crossed his handsome features.
“Yes we can.” I stood up, kicking off my waterlogged running shoes. I pulled my sweater over my head, peeled off my T-shirt, then slid my track pants off. I was absolutely feeling better.
Fang’s eyes were wild. They darted from me to the cave opening.
I reached around behind me, feeling the open wound on my shoulder blade as I unhooked my bra. I was small breasted—a fact that had never bothered me before, but I was gratified to hear Fang’s breath quicken as I dropped the bra on my pile of clothes.
“Please stop.” His hands clenched at his sides.
“You say that, but I see evidence that’s not what you want.” My balance was a little wonky still, so I put my hand against the cave wall for balance when I slipped off my panties. I flung them to join the rest of the pile.
Fang stared.
I crooked my finger at him. He came forward, his eyes locked with mine. He moved as if he were glamoured, but that doesn’t work usually with other paranormals, mostly humans.
I reached up, letting my fingers feel his hair. I hadn’t realized until that moment how I’d been wanting to do that. His hair was a lovely deep auburn, thick and curly, a bit on the longish side. I loved how it curled around my fingers. I liked that it was long enough to tug.
I did just that, pulling his head down to mine as we sank to the cave floor.
His hands glided across my ankles, up my calves, to the back of my knees, and up my thighs. He stopped there, his finger pressure increasing, digging into my skin.
