Tainted Souls: A Shadow Creek Novel

by J. C RIMELL

  “They would understand, you know,” Daniel added, his voice compassionate and so damn understanding.

  Gunner's feral glare narrowed as he took a step closer, those ice-white eyes piercing through the glass and straight into his soul. “Really?” he scoffed. “Is this the voice of experience speaking?”

  Dropping his gaze, Daniel pushed away from the clear barrier between them, unwilling to become the butt of Gunner's contemptuous behavior. “I want to help you,” he paused, before looking up at him once more. “But you may be beyond anyone's ability to help.”

  Damn this male! “I don't want or need your help!” Gunner lunged at the glass. “You got that?”

  A strong hand curled around Gunner's forearm. “Whoa. Jesus, Gunner, everything all right here?”

  Gunner's head whipped round to find Ryker standing at his side. “I'm fine, it's nothing,” he reassured him. “I was just heading to the gym.”

  Ryker lowered his hand. “Me too, come on I'll spar with you,” he snickered. “God only knows I could do with venting my anger in a healthy way and beating you black-and-blue will sure make me feel a lot better.”

  Gunner managed a false laugh. “You underestimate me, brother. Fatal mistake.” He moved away from the cell avoiding Daniel's gaze, but he felt the icy chill of it lingering on his back until he was out of his sight.

  §

  Eve scraped back her long, black hair and tied it into a knot at the nape. Rolling up the sleeves on her tartan jersey shirt, she stepped up onto the chair. “Okay, pass it up.” She held out her hand toward Snow, who rolled his eyes in clear dissatisfaction as he passed her the fairy lights.

  “I can't believe I'm helping with this when I should be doing more important things,” he grunted. “I'm a soldier, not a party planner for chrissakes.”

  Eve chuckled. “Aw, come on, it's for you too.” She wrapped the end of the wire over the branch of the tall oak at the front of the compound, then stepped down off the chair. “Grab the chair would you?”

  Following behind like an obedient puppy, Snow did as directed. “So, you looking forward to the initiation, or are you going to cry like a girl?” he teased, placing the chair back down so Eve could get up and continue to string up the lights.

  She turned to face him. “In case you hadn't noticed, I am a girl.”

  “Huh, I thought you stopped looking like a girl a long time ago,” he said, holding her gaze with warm affection. “You're a pretty, damn hot woman now, Eve, just in case you hadn't noticed.”

  Eve, Snow and Delta were chosen by the Society at the same time. They were the same age and had just gone through their transitions from teenagers to fully fledged shifters. She studied her friend with curious eyes. Since the transition, his face had changed. He no longer looked like a scrawny kid with pimples. He'd filled out, the soft angles of his face were sharper. His tawny eyes were more vibrant and his almost, white hair now had a subtle, golden sheen.

  Eve had noticed how her own body had changed: Her skinny frame had become more athletic and curvier. She was fitter and faster, and her ability of memory tracking was growing stronger. Even though, it was hard to get volunteers to practice her skill on. Not everyone wanted her poking around in their minds and digging through memories they'd perhaps sooner forget.

  Smiling at the young shifter, Snow was, she thought, a strikingly handsome male.

  But not as handsome as the one she suddenly spotted walking in her direction. No, this particular male made her body tremble, her pulse race and her mind swirl with deep, hidden fantasies.

  “This should've been done by now,” Murphy said addressing the two shifters prepping the area for Friday night's ceremony. “Where the hell is Delta?” His head reared up to look at Eve. From behind his wraparounds, she sensed his eyes zero in on her, becoming his focus point, making her heartbeat flutter inside her chest.

  “Cake,” Eve muttered, the words in her head too jumbled among the erotic images exploding like fireworks as she stood watching him, wanting him…

  His brows crashed together. “What?”

  Erasing those thoughts before anyone picked up on them, she blurted, “Um, cake. Yeah, she's preparing the cake… for the ceremony… the icing needs time to set.”

  Murphy turned to Snow. “Go help Delta with the food prep, I'll help finish up here,” he ordered with a sharp edge to his tone. Everyone knew Murphy didn't particularly like talking to the youngsters. Then again, he didn't really like talking to anyone.

  Snow huffed. “Seriously?” Murphy's stealthy silence made Snow think twice about arguing. “I'll be glad when all this crap is over with so we can get on with training.”

  Alone with him, Eve thought. Oh, hell.

  The atmosphere seemed to change, crackle with tension. Her wolf became uneasy and trying to ignore it, she went back to stringing up the lights, only, she couldn't quite reach.

  Don't look at him. Don't look at him.

  Stretching forward to hook the wire over another branch on a pine, the chair wobbled beneath her and before she knew it, Murphy's hands were tight on her waist. The heat of his palm seared her skin through her T-shirt like a naked flame, a fingertip brushing the flesh just above the waistband of her jeans. Eve swallowed, her eyes searching for his behind those dark lenses.

  Shaking his head, he let go. Turning around, he gave her his back and bent down onto one knee, holding up his hands for her. “Climb on.”

  Oh. Eve hesitated, the very thought of her being on top of those muscular shoulders made her knees go a little weak.

  His head flicked sideways to look at her. “I haven't got all day.”

  “Right,” she muttered. I can do this…

  Lifting a leg, she placed it gingerly on his shoulder. Her body hummed with an electric pulse as he placed his hand on her jean-clad thigh. She brought up her other leg and her hands found their way into his hair to give her some balance. His hands were big and heavy and hot on her. His hair, dear Lord his hair was like silk ribbons slipping free from her fingers as she took up the fairy lights once again. The core of her pressed tight against his neck and every nerve in her body felt like a burning fuse.

  He moved forward so she could reach to finish stringing up the lights, leaning, she wound the string over another branch. A breath hitched in her throat as his hands slid higher up her thighs, his fingers squeezing tighter. Her wolf rubbed against her skin, relishing the contact, loving the feel of him holding her, touching her. The smell of him stirred her senses. His intoxicating blend of wilderness and sandalwood that drenched her thoughts, made her mind hazy.

  She strung up the last light and he knelt down, his hands gliding slowly from off of her thighs, the friction making her bite back the moan that almost escaped. She climbed free from him, missing the contact at once. “Thanks,” she croaked. Her body trembled a lot like jelly in a bowl as she watched him stand to his full height. She realized just how small she was in comparison as he turned around to face her. His powerful body towered over her, blocking the sun behind him, and casting them both into shadow.

  Her heart pounded several times against her ribs while he stood there and looked down at her.

  Then he was gone.

  Eve collapsed onto the chair behind her, feeling hot and completely confused. She knew he was a male of very few words and he wouldn't see her as anything other than a youngster. Despite having gone through her transition, as one of the older shifters in the pack, he would consider her too young. Murphy was loyal to pack, his pledge to the Society set in stone, as was hers. But that didn't mean intimacy between pack members was forbidden. She craved him in a sexual, primal way, but she didn't kid herself. She knew he must have women who pleasured him, he was a dominant male and she'd been around male shifters long enough to know they had high sex drives.

  But then, so did a female shifter.

  And so did she.

  Images of him naked with other, faceless women barreled into her mind. She swatted each one of them away w
ith a mental slap of her hand.

  Poof.

  Poof.

  Poof.

  The naked image of Murphy wasn't so easy to let go of.

  She didn't want him gone.

  Her wolf snarled in sexual frustration and retreated to the shadows deep in Eve's mind.

  Murphy couldn't get away fast enough. What the hell did he think he was doing with that female? His wolf clawed at his skin in disagreement. She's too young for fucks sake! he argued with himself. But God, when his hands had been on her. When her hands had slipped and knotted in his hair, he'd felt it, his whole body had responded to her touch, to her scent…

  Closing his eyes, he couldn't escape her image. Even though it was always tainted by the dark lenses of his wraparounds, nothing could veil her beauty from him…

  Ah, she's such a sweet butterfly.

  Murphy had picked up on Eve's emotions. Her wolf wanted him in a sexual way and the woman desired him. “No, no, no!” he shouted out in a loud burst. “Not a woman… a young woman barely out of her transition.”

  She's almost twenty years. That's plenty old enough and you know it. You're just kidding yourself.

  Shut up! He snapped at his angel's voice in his head. Samil had a way of always commenting when he least needed him to.

  Disappearing into the thickness of the forest he removed his wraparounds, the light making him squint as he tucked them into the pocket of his fatigues. He stripped his clothes, leaving them in a pile, and set his wolf free. He took pleasure in the way his body changed: Bones lengthening, muscles stretching, blood pulsing through his veins.

  His paws ate up the dirt with incredible speed. He didn't stop running until he lost the sun's warm rays and was deep in the undergrowth and woodland surrounding the lair's perimeter bordering the edge of the mountain range.

  He padded over to a small waterfall in a rocky riverine, one used regularly when Shadow Pack patrolled the area. Catching his breath, he took a drink of the cool, fresh liquid, grateful as it eased the desert dryness of his throat. The wolf's ears pricked forward in warning, hearing subtle sounds.

  Another animal?

  He crawled low, his body brushing the mossy earth as he waited for the creature to appear.

  A large, dark gray wolf emerged from out of the thickness of shrubbery just atop of the waterfall. Its bright, amber eyes scanned the vicinity. Unable to avoid being seen from his position, Murphy stood to his full height. Tilting his muzzle upward he scented the wolf was both a dominant and a rogue.

  Standing his ground, he knew better than to shift as the rogue would take advantage of its position and strike. Murphy kept eye contact, he was also a dominant wolf. To look away would be as good as submission, and that was something he wasn't about to do for anyone, let alone a rogue.

  The rogues muzzle lifted in a snarl over razor sharp fangs, its body preparing to pounce. Murphy held tight and braced himself. From within his wolf, he tried to manipulate the situation, attempted to use his preternatural ability to calm the rogue and the atmosphere. But it was an arduous task in wolf form. There was resistance from the rogue wolf. Somehow, the other animal was deflecting his emotional manipulations. Having no connection to the rogue meant he couldn't communicate telepathically like he was able to with his pack or members of the Society.

  Seconds later, the rogue launched from off of the ledge as Murphy sauntered forward and the two collided in mid-air. A howl escaped him as the rogue's canines bit through the thick pelt and flesh of his shoulder. He ripped himself free, feeling the skin and muscle tear from bone, shredding one of Samil's wings, the pain ricochet through his entire body like a bolt of lightening.

  He dug in, his own razor sharp fangs slicing through flank muscle and hitting bone, his jaw locked and refused to let go. The rogue howled in pain falling on its side and tried to shift in an attempt to shake free from its opposition. Murphy recognized the shift but hung on, the pain licking over his body like wildfire. He was losing too much blood and becoming too weak to shift himself. Sinking his teeth in deeper, he heard the brittle crack of bone, felt the shards shatter around his canines. He pulled back taking half the rogue's thigh with him.

  Only just able to shift, Murphy fell to his knees, feeling the coolness of the water pool around his naked body, the clear ripples turning crimson as his blood ran in a rivulet down his arm. He watched through blurry eyes as the gray wolf struggled to shift completely and ended up crawling away half man, half beast. The right leg was severed and barely still attached as he dragged it behind himself.

  Murphy's vision wavered. Tunneling in and out of focus, the tree's became hazy around him. The light dimmed into a single, tiny dot until suddenly it popped and splintered.

  Hang on Samil. Were the last words he breathed.

  Then it was lights out.

  All he could feel was the icy chill of the water swallowing him up and taking him under.

  Six

  Zach and his five remaining brothers had discovered the Vampire King's hunting lodge and underground caves abandoned by the vampire coven and his queen. They cared not if he was alive or dead. Their only concern was they were free from the King's crushing grip. And although they remained prisoners of the cruel curse that enslaved their bodies, they could survive, and they would not desert Seth and Daniel.

  It had taken days of traveling south back to the small coastal town where they had last seen their brethren. Looking over his shoulder, Zach glanced behind at the other men following close on his heels. As the eldest, they looked to him as their leader in Seth's absence. He didn't know how to tell them he was at a dead end.

  He'd hit a brick wall.

  They had searched the small town for clues. Revisited locations they'd used or had been.

  Nothing.

  “We must keep out of sight,” he said as turned around to face them, keeping his worry to himself and his expression calm. “We need to move away from the town and the shoreline.”

  “Aye,” Abel replied, his piercing white eyes narrowed. “If Seth and Daniel had to hide, they'd go deep… Into the woodlands.”

  The brothers nodded in agreement.

  Zach could always rely on Abel to know what he was thinking. An ability that could prove both useful and a thorn in his side at times.

  He looked up and examined the sky. They still had enough daylight to trek further inland to the thick forest area that edged the mountains.

  Despite being tired after no respite, they pushed on with speed. An hour or so later, they entered the woodland below the shadows of huge pines and kept quiet as they went deeper into the forest. The unfamiliar surroundings felt comforting somehow, a caress against their tainted souls. They listened to the wind rustling through the boughs of the trees. The sound of woodland creatures they was once able to morph into, gave each brother a strange sense of peace.

  Picking up on the faint cry of an animal—or, Zach thought as he stretched his hearing—a human in pain? He stopped and crouched low to the forest ground directing his brothers to do the same. He crept forward in a military crawl, the moaning getting louder the closer he got. The smell of blood filled his lungs and a volcano erupted in the back of his throat. Clenching a fist in the air, his brothers understood it was a sign to sit tight. He continued to approach the thick oak tree from where the noise was coming from.

  Zach froze when he spotted the naked limbs of a man. The male's hefty thigh was barely held together by shards of bone and cartilage. The shredded flesh was hanging loose like roots from a plant as blood pooled under the leg and seeped into the ground beneath it. About to approach the injured male, a firm grip curled around Zach's bicep. His head whipped round to see a warning look in Abel's eyes. His brother lifted a finger to his ear and then to the air, alerting Zach to another sound a little farther away.

  Together they skulked back and hid beneath the dense foliage and waited.

  Seven

  Kit leaned into the strength of Cade's body as they stood on the asphalt w
aiting for the door of the plane to open. Their mating bond secured her safely, despite a panic attack threatening to take hold. Since becoming a shifter herself, the attacks that used to render her immobile had become less and less frequent. But it had been weeks since her aunt, Jo had been snatched by a group of vampires from their home. Now Kit waited anxiously to see her. And even though Cade had forewarned her that Jo was in a pretty bad way, she'd been relieved to hear that her aunt hadn't been turned.

  A blond-haired male with bright honey-yellow eyes stepped out of the plane first. His height perhaps six feet and dressed in black military clothing, acknowledging the two of them with a wave, he made his way down the steps toward them.

  “Remi,” Cade greeted the Italian shifter with a firm handshake and a bump of shoulders. “Great to have you back, my friend.”

  Remi's smile was bright and wide when he turned to Kit. “Ah, so this is your girl, huh?” he asked Cade, before taking her hand and planting a firm kiss on the back of it. “She is even more beautiful than you described.”

  Kit felt a jolt of Cade's protectiveness travel down their mating bond. “Yeah,” Cade said with a flash of thunder in his eyes. “That's gonna be the only kiss you'll ever get.”

  Looking past her mate and Remi, Kit's breath caught in her throat when she saw a massive, raven haired male carrying a small woman in his arms. His long stride ate up the few yards of asphalt that stretched between them in a second. And then he was standing right there with Jo sleeping peacefully in his embrace. Kit looked up at him, a deep, vicious scar ran through his top lip, over his cheekbone to his left ear. He turned his head slightly as though conscious of it. A deliberate movement, just like the one Cade had made when he used to hide his facial scar from her.