Single Dad Shifter (Shades of Shifters Book 6)

by T. S. Ryder

  "Was there any property damage?" Patrick asked, all business.

  "You've got some gasoline splashed around the entrance you'll want to clean up, but that's all."

  Piper sighed in relief. Finally, they were going to be at the bottom of this! And finally, Wragge is going to get what's coming to him! "So who was it?"

  "A woman by the name of Kristal Clarkson. You know her?"

  Piper gaped. "A woman?"

  "You heard me. Do you know her?"

  "Never heard of her."

  Piper's head spun. It was a woman. Kristal Clarkson. Not Thor Wragge. How was that possible? She had been so certain that it was him! Maybe he paid off this woman to do all that vandalism so that it wouldn't be traced back at him. That was it–Wragge had put her up to it and she was going to roll on him and he'd finally get his.

  "Kristal Clarkson," Patrick repeated, frowning. "I know her."

  Piper spun to face him. "You do?"

  "She's a fan. A bit more than a fan, actually, she's obsessed. Remember the woman who interrupted our first date?"

  Piper thought a moment then nodded. It was so long ago she'd erased the woman from her mind.

  "That's her. She tried to get into the locker room at my last game and I've seen her hanging around my house. I'm sorry, I never made the connection between her and the vandalism at the gallery."

  The police officer rose a brow. "There have been other incidents of vandalism?"

  "At the gallery I had in Uphoria," Piper sighed. "A broken window, then somebody broke in and smashed everything. Is she a witch? They used magic to—"

  "She's a witch. A pretty feisty one, too."

  "The vandalism did happen right after we started approaching a trois amour," Baxter put in. "It could be because this Kristal was crazy obsessed and jealous."

  "We'll have the truth out of her soon enough," the officer said. "In the meantime, I think your building is fine."

  "She might not be working alone," Piper put in quickly, thinking of Wragge. There was still a chance, after all. A witch had to have hope.

  "We'll have a car patrol the area for the rest of the night, but if she had a partner, they're probably long gone by now."

  The conversation was obviously finished and Piper slumped back to the car with the Werewolves. Patrick handed Baxter the keys and slid into the backseat with Piper, pulling her onto his lap as they headed home.

  "I'm sorry, I didn't see the signs." Patrick nuzzled her neck. He was catching onto what she liked quickly. "If I had, we could have prevented that little bitch from destroying your first gallery."

  "Do you get stalker fans often?"

  "Well… none so far I would classify as stalkers, but they can get a little over zealous at times," Patrick admitted. "This Kristal is the first real crazy one that I've had. But it's my job to protect you and I—"

  "I just thought it was going to be Wragge." Piper crossed her arms and scowled. "I really wanted it to be him. I'd really like to see him crawling on his knees to beg me not to put him in jail."

  "You have a real feud with him, don't you?" Patrick chuckled, though he stopped when Piper glared at him. "Look, I'll admit that guy is an asshole to you, but what I don't get is what started all this. Why does he have a vendetta against you?"

  "Hell if I know." Piper slumped, knowing that wasn't quite true. "I may have started it."

  Baxter snorted.

  Piper glared at him. "Care to share anything, Baxter?"

  "No, I think you're doing a good job."

  Patrick raised his brow.

  "Wragge churns out copies of the same piece of art magically. Like, those dumb wall-hangings that show the little kids playing hockey on a pond? He's been selling those for years, the same damn picture every year. Everything in his store is cheap and magically reproduced. He wanted to do that to my art. Can you imagine the nerve of him?"

  Patrick's shoulders shook with suppressed laughter, but Piper was too upset to notice, her hands were clenched and she glowered out the window as streetlights zipped by.

  "And when I told him in no uncertain terms that I wouldn't—"

  "She called him a waste of breath and that he was going to hell for what he was doing."

  "The devaluation of art is serious. Well, he got pissy and said that the only reason I felt that way was because I wasn't a good enough artist or witch to set up my own press like the one he had. Well, you can say a lot of things about me, but you insult my art and my magic and you've got a feud on your hands. And I don't mean insults like “my kid could paint that” - that's just ignorance and—"

  She cut off as Patrick roared with laughter. With a huff, she tried to move off his lap but he just held her tighter. Elbowing him in the stomach only made him laugh even more.

  "Ah, Piper. Piper, Piper, Piper. You're a little minx, you know that, right?"

  Piper's shoulders hunched forward and she scowled.

  "I was going to wait until it was officially official," he continued, "but I can see you need something to cheer you up. I've decided that I need to get more into the art business myself. Now I know you hate cheap reproductions, but I'm opening up an Artco franchise store in Uphoria. Only with cheaper prices and more variety then what Wragge has in his shop."

  Piper gaped at him. "But… but that's going to cost you a small fortune! And… how is it even going to work?"

  Patrick shrugged. "It'll hurt Wragge's business, which is its purpose. Just being there ought to have some effect on his bottom line. Like when a Tim Hortons opens up right next to a donut shop, it's going to hurt the donut shop."

  It was Baxter's turn to laugh. "I'm glad we're out of Uphoria for that. I bet Wragge has smoke coming from his ears over this."

  Patrick smiled in a self-satisfied way and Piper snuggled closer to him, laying her head on his shoulder. "Thank you."

  Baxter hummed, and Patrick's eyes flicked over to him. "While we're on things that were going to wait, I think Baxter has something for you, too."

  They were at the apartment building by this time and Patrick carried her inside. It was something she never thought she'd be able to experience, given her size, but Piper found she really liked being carried from one place to another. It made her feel special.

  "You sure?" Baxter asked Patrick when they got to the apartment. "It can wait until morning–make you the hero of tonight."

  "I'll have plenty of chances to be the hero. Besides, I think our little female here won't be satisfied until she knows what we're talking about," replied Patrick, his hands resting on her shoulders.

  Baxter glanced at Piper's impatient expression and grinned. Patrick took Piper to the kitchen while Baxter disappeared in the hallway closet. Moments later he reappeared with a painting in his hands. Piper gasped. It was an apple tree, painted from the view of a window high about it. Tears filled her eyes as she reached for the painting.

  "My mother's painting. How did you—"

  "I found it at a secondhand store. Couldn't believe my eyes." Baxter kissed the top of her head. "There's no real telling how it got there, but I suspect Kristal Clark had something to do with it. More so than Thor Wragge."

  Piper didn't care. She quickly went to the den and took down the abstract piece she had hung over the couch, replacing it with her mother's picture. Stepping back to admire it, she leaned against Baxter as he put an arm around her waist.

  "Thank you," she whispered.

  "It was my pleasure."

  Piper looked up at him with a glint in her eye. "Oh, you can count on it."

  She grabbed his hand and pulled him into the bedroom, Patrick trailing after with a grin stretching from ear to ear.

  Chapter Ten

  The first game of the new hockey season was exhilarating.

  Piper jumped up and down next to Baxter, completely enthralled as her eyes followed Patrick from one end of the rink to the next. She could see his breath puffing into the air and watched a trickle of blood run down his lip where he had been elbowed by a
nother player. The puck moved so quickly that she couldn't see who had it.

  It was odd how fun hockey suddenly became, now that she had a certain player to keep her eye on and cheer on.

  There were ten seconds left on the clock. The score was 2-1 in Uphoria's favor. The opposing team was vicious and it was only because of the goalie's skills that they hadn't scored more points. Piper could see Patrick's frustration mount with every passing second.

  "He's got the puck, he's got the puck!" she screamed, clawing at Baxter's arm.

  Baxter winced then laughed and cupped his mouth and hollered encouragement.

  "Destroy them!" Piper screamed, caught up as the final second ticked by. "Kill them, kill them!"

  Patrick slapped the puck hard as the opposing players went after him. It sailed through the air, a black disc against the white ice. The net caught it, bouncing it back into the goalie's head just as the buzzer rang, indicating the end of the game.

  Piper stomped her feet and clapped her hands, whooping and hollering. Baxter grabbed her around the waist, swinging her around their private box, pressing fevered kisses to her neck and face. Piper grinned and laughed, glancing down at the rink. Patrick glared up at them, his wolfish lips pulled back in a grin. Once he caught Piper's eye he crooked his finger, beckoning her.

  "I think Patrick wants us to wait until he can join us," she laughed, pushing Baxter away.

  In response, Baxter grabbed her hand and pulled her out of the box. They were soon in the locker room.

  It had been startling when Patrick first invited them in and being around all those naked or half-dressed Werewolves had made Piper red as a tomato and highly uncomfortable, but none of them gave her a second glance.

  That was the Werewolf way. They weren't phased by nudity and certainly weren't attracted to a person that wasn't a possible mate.

  "That was amazing!" Baxter gushed as he threw his arms around Patrick.

  Piper hung back. Baxter and Patrick might have no problem with kissing when one or both of them were in the wolf forms, but fur was not a turn-on to her. The last thing she wanted was to be hacking up fur balls.

  After Patrick removed his hockey gear and had retaken his human form, he pulled both of his mates to the shower to celebrate. They were individual cubicles, but it was still only afterward that Piper realized that his teammates would have been able to hear every single moan. Her face flushed as she toweled off and redressed.

  "You wolves!" she shook her head. "I don't know what I'm going to do with you. Sex maniacs, both of you."

  "That's why you love us," Patrick chortled. "Besides, I didn't see you protesting. Quite the opposite, in fact."

  The locker smelled like sweat, old shoes and wet dog, but it had emptied sometime while the three had been in the shower. Well, at least that was a relief. She turned to her boys, putting her hands on her hips.

  "So, I heard that some place in British Columbia is going to host some of the Wolf League games this year?"

  Patrick nodded, a grin spreading over his face. There was a split in his lower lip and bruises on his cheek, but violent games always seemed to make him more excited. "That's right. We're getting bigger, Piper. More and more people are wanting to see our games."

  "Because you're like modern day gladiators," Piper grumbled, crossing the room for the first aid kit. "Let me take care of that lip."

  "It also means that I'll be spending a lot of time away from home."

  Piper turned back, frowning. Patrick languidly dressed, seemingly not paying attention to his two mates.

  "Piper and I can fly out to watch the games," Baxter said.

  "Well, you can at least. I've got a plane ticket for you to come visit me over there for a couple of weeks. We can look at hotel rooms when we get back to the apartment."

  Piper pressed her lips together. Baxter got tickets, but she didn't? She tried not to be jealous–after all, Baxter hadn't been able to find a new job just yet, so he was available to go gallivanting off to British Columbia to see the games. She wasn't. At least not yet.

  She cleared her throat. "I could take some time off at the gallery, you know. We're doing so well, I thought I could get an assistant or something that could keep an eye on things while I went to see your out-of-province games."

  Patrick shook his head. "That's sweet of you, Piper, but I know you only come to these games because you feel obligated to. It's fine."

  "No, I like hockey a lot more now!" Piper bounced on her toes. "I love watching you play."

  "I think you like playing after he plays." Baxter laughed.

  Piper wrinkled her nose at him. "No, I've come to really enjoy watching hockey. I think I like the blood a lot more than I used to."

  Patrick burst into laughter. He laughed so hard and for so long that he had to sit down. Piper folded her arms, narrowing her eyes at him to show she wasn't amused, although his full-bellied laughs were hard not to join with.

  "You are too easy to tease," he said, finally catching his breath. "I've got tickets for you, too. And an assistant sounds like the perfect thing for you."

  He strode over to her, hands clasping over her hips. He lifted her with more ease than she thought was possible; she was always amazed when he lifted her. Baxter was soon by his side and Patrick settled the witch onto both of their shoulders. Piper held one of Patrick's and one of Baxter's hands.

  "I am so lucky to have you two," Patrick sighed.

  Piper laughed. "I think I'm the lucky one!"

  "Nope, it's me."

  Patrick growled playfully as they exited the locker room. "We're all lucky. How about we agree to that?"

  "Agreed," Piper and Baxter said in unison.

  Piper squeezed her mates' hands, smiling, feeling so happy she thought her heart might burst.

  *****

  THE END

  Claimed by the Vampire King

  Description

  A curvy single mom struggling to get by PLUS a hot Vampire King who wants an heir PLUS a dark enemy planning a lethal attack!

  Naya Valadez is a curvy single mother who will do anything to properly take care of her three-year-old daughter–even sign up to be a living blood donor for the ruling vampire elite. With her rare blood type, she is a hot commodity.

  What she was not expecting was to be claimed by Gabriel, the vampire king...

  But it's not all about blood when it comes to Gabriel. He has decided that he wants to have a child. This is only possible during the Blood Moon when all vampires transform back into humans for the night. The moment Gabriel scents Naya, he knows that she will be fertile, and perfect to bear his child for him.

  It's only a business arrangement–until it's not...

  Just when Naya and Gabriel start to reveal their true feelings to each other, a dangerous enemy reveals themselves and love turns lethal.

  Will Naya and Gabriel find a way to escape the enemy and be together? Or will they lose everything they love? Find out now.

  Chapter One: First Bites

  The ballroom needed no extra decorations, and yet the opulent space was still swamped with decadence. Naya Valadez stared around in awe.

  The open floor was highly-polished black marble, with white marble holding up a vaulted ceiling, painted, it was rumored, by the vampire king himself over a thousand years ago. It was a work to behold, with depth and colors Naya hadn't thought possible. Two staircases wrapped around the sides, with landings every few feet full of plush furniture. Chandeliers made from diamonds–not crystal, but real diamonds–hung from the ceiling. No wonder she had been vetted so thoroughly before she was chosen for this party!

  Naya was sorely tempted to slip a golden spoon from the ice cream bar into her pocket. They were small, delicate things, and certainly worth a month's rent. But to steal from vampires, let alone the king's own palace, would be inviting disaster.

  A man came up behind Naya, brushing his hand against her arm. His skin was ice-cold and, when Naya looked at him, he flashed a set of pearl
y-white fangs in a smile. A vampire. She shivered, as equally drawn to him as she was repulsed.

  "I've never seen you before." He eyed her deep cleavage before his gaze penetrated her eyes.

  Naya ducked her head, feeling her cheeks warm under his intense scrutiny. "I'm new."

  It was a great fortune for her that Living Blood, the company she had signed up for just a few weeks earlier, had sent her to the king's ball. Normally, when vampires wanted living blood donors at their parties, they asked for specific body types–thin, hourglass, with perky boobs and tight asses. Naya was hourglass all right, but she wasn't what anybody would call thin. Living Blood wouldn't have even hired her if it wasn't for her blood type.

  AB negative was almost impossible to find these days. Back before King Gabriel united the vampire race into a single kingdom, vampires ran rampant across the globe, taking what they wanted. And most of them wanted to drink AB negative blood. Carriers were almost wiped out from overfeeding and, as such, were worth almost as much per drop as oil these days.

  Naya wore a red dress to indicate her blood type. All around her she saw other donors from Living Blood, women in dresses, men in tuxedos with colored shirts; red for AB negative, orange for B negative. The two rarest blood types. The king hadn't wanted any others. There was a total of three people wearing red in this magnificent hall.

  The vampire stepped closer to Naya, his gaze sweeping over her body. The red dressed flattered her Latina complexion, and her dark hair fell in waves down her back. The dress was gathered at the waist, emphasizing her narrowest part, and the deep V of the halter-top neckline went almost to her belly button. The skirt fell to the knee, but it was slit along the thigh, all the way up to the black lacy undergarments that were part of her uniform.