Shifters After Dark Box Set: (6-Book Bundle)

by SM Reine

  I lay still, pushing hope and encouragement into Astrid’s body. I tell it to fight, tell it to keep living, assure it that I am here and will stay here. The body is at least listening to me, and that might be the only thing keeping it from shutting down, so I keep talking.

  Hours go by this way, until I finally realize that I am running out of strength. I can channel magic for two hours, no problem, but it has been much longer than that now, and I know I don’t have much left in me. Soon I will have to rest and regain my own strength before I can continue to help Astrid.

  Luckily, just when I’m sure I’m going to falter, Astrid’s werewolf magic kicks back in. At first it’s just a trickle, but soon I can feel it start its work on the body’s internal organs, which are the most critical problem right now. Astrid’s body can feel itself healing too, and for the first time since I arrived it starts to relax, knowing that the werewolf magic will take care of it as it has so many times before. When I am sure the body is hanging on by itself, I allow myself to drift off. I need the rest.

  14. Sashi

  The first thing I see when I open my eyes is weak sunlight streaming through a crack in the curtains, illuminating a rectangle of light on the abused carpet. I am uncomfortable, mostly because there is some kind of junk under my back, like a bunch of tiny Legos. I shift around a little and remember where I am.

  I sit up quickly, and immediately regret the sudden movement. My body feels weak and empty, like I just donated blood after a bout with the flu. Hugging my knees for support, I look over at my “patient.”

  She’s asleep, but breathing steadily, and every now and then her arm or leg twitches, from a dream or maybe from the healing process. The bruises are still there, but they’ve changed color, more purpley than black, and in some places already lightening to yellow. They’re healing. Her wolfish face and hands have gone back to human-normal, and the puffiness of her face has decreased a little. If someone showed me a picture of her, I could probably identify her as Astrid now.

  Her purpled eyes open, and she looks at me, her eyes full of misery. “You saved me,” she croaks.

  My heart sinks as I take in her defeated, resigned tone. “You don’t sound too happy about that,” I point out.

  Astrid’s head quivers briefly, like she wants to shrug or nod or something, but it’s too painful. “It would be easier if I died.”

  “Then why did you call me?” I ask, keeping my voice gentle.

  Wan smile. “Old habits, I guess.”

  “Does anything still feel broken?”

  She shifts experimentally, lets out an involuntary whimper. “I think…I think maybe my fingers.”

  I check that her finger bones are lined up, so when her magic gets around to healing them, they won’t be crooked. From a biological standpoint, it’s kind of fascinating—I suspect her healing magic is funneling to the most critical wounds first, like her internal bleeding and the really deep contusions, which is exactly what plain old scientific evolution would do. My mum taught me about magic fusing with evolution to create the various species, but that was theoretical. This is proof.

  Astrid’s eyes begin to flicker around the room in a sudden panic, propelling me from my thoughts. “Shit, what time is it?”

  I check my watch. “Seven-thirty. You supposed to be at work or something?”

  “You have to get out of here,” Astrid urges. “He could come back.”

  “No way,” I say. I did not just experience the most exhausting night of my life only to let her die if her magic gives out again.

  She shifts, tries to sit up. I would reach out to help her, but I am barely staying upright myself. At any rate, after another whimper she gives up and lies back down. “Please,” she whispers. “He has a thing about you. He thinks you’re up to something.”

  I shake my head. “I’m not leaving you alone.”

  After a moment’s hesitation, Astrid says, “Caroline. Call Caroline.”

  I raise an eyebrow at her. “The alpha’s sister? Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

  She twitches her shoulder just enough to mimic a shrug. “She’s the pack’s sigma. She’s as anti-violence as werewolves get.”

  I don’t have Caroline’s number, so I reach for Astrid’s cell phone, letting myself topple over onto the floor in sort of a controlled slump. I call while lying on my side, my head pillowed on my outstretched arm.

  The sigma answers on the first ring. “Caroline?” I say weakly. “It’s Sashi Noring.”

  “Hey, Sashi,” Caroline says, in a bright voice. “What can I do for you? Why do you have Astrid’s phone?”

  So she doesn’t know. “Um, are you alone right now?” I ask, mindful of the werewolves’ enhanced hearing. If Luke is there, I don’t want him to know Astrid has survived.

  But Caroline confirms she’s alone, and agrees to come over to Astrid’s to help with “a problem.” After a moment’s hesitation, she also agrees not to call Luke beforehand, though she warns me that if it’s something the alpha needs to know about she’ll have to tell him. I want to tell her Luke already knows, but that will just complicate things.

  After the call, I just lay back down next to Astrid, too weak to stay upright. I know she must be as hungry as I am, because magic burns energy, whether it’s used by witches or werewolves. But I don’t have the strength to get up and get us something. We don’t talk much. What is there to say?

  A half hour later we hear a car pull into the driveway. Astrid turns her head to look at me. “So,” I remark. “Do you want to get the door, or should I?”

  She stares at me for a moment through her puffy eyes, then bursts out laughing. Even that hurts, judging from her moaned “owwww,” but she can’t help but start giggling again. Then I am giggling too, and that’s how Caroline finds us: one purple woman and one limp girl laughing in a pile of rubble.

  Her eyes are wide, and her face pales when she sees Astrid. “Oh, honey,” she breathes, rushing over to us. “Tell me Luke didn’t do this.”

  A you’ve got to be kidding me look hits my face before I can stop it, but Astrid answers before Caroline sees it. “In his defense,” Astrid mumbles, “I did try to kill him.”

  This is news to me, but then again, I can’t really blame her. Caroline gives Astrid a hard stare for a moment, then her eyes flick away. “I didn’t know it was that bad,” she says softly.

  Astrid’s voice is a little stronger now, with a little of her old defiance. “Yes, you did.”

  Caroline’s face crumples. “I’m sorry,” she whispers, tears rolling down her cheeks. “I kept hoping…he was a good man once. The magic just…” She swallows so hard I can hear it, and says in a broken voice, “There’s a reason why they call this a curse. Some of us are just lost to the violence of it.”

  “What are you going to do?” I ask.

  Caroline swipes the tears off her face, shaking her head like maybe she can wish this all away. “I don’t know.” Then she looks up at me like she’s seeing me for the first time. “You should go, Sashi. I can take it from here.”

  “She almost bled out,” I tell her. “I want to make sure her healing magic keeps—”

  Caroline cuts me off. “This is a werewolf problem. There’s nothing you can do.”

  I am so goddamned sick of hearing that. “He’s gonna come back,” I say, a little desperately. “You have to stop him.”

  Caroline’s voice goes cold for a moment. “Don’t tell me what to do about my brother,” she growls. I remember that sigma or not, I am talking to a werewolf. Even the weaker ones are violent.

  “Caro, she saved my life,” Astrid says tiredly. “I wouldn’t have made it through the night without her.”

  Caroline looks back and forth between us, her face softening a little. “I’m sorry, I just… He changed for me, did you know that?” She’s talking to Astrid now, something like desperation on her face. “My ex…this asshole changed me against my will, and Luke figured out what was going on and got himself bitten,
just so he could go up against this guy and win. He…” Her voice breaks off, and she shakes her head again.

  Weakly, Astrid raises her hand, and Caroline takes it. “I’ll submit,” she whispers.

  Both Caroline and I stare at her. “What?” I ask, certain that I heard wrong.

  “I’ll submit. I’ll accept him as my mate.”

  A ghost of hope glides across Caroline’s face, but I am shocked. “But…but…” I sputter. “He raped you! He almost killed you! You can’t just—”

  “Let him win?” Astrid turns up her lips in a parody of a smile. Her voice is heavy with hopelessness. “Look at me, Sashi. Look around you. He’s already won.”

  I look between them, Astrid with her abused, resigned face and Caroline, who looks simultaneously guilty, hopeful, and troubled. “It’s time for you to go, Sashi,” she says again.

  I stagger out to my car through the early morning heat, leaving my mum’s suitcase there because I can’t carry it. I would rather buy her a drugstore’s worth of supplies than ask either of the werewolves for help just now. Exhausted, dehydrated, filthy, and emotionally drained as I am, there’s no way in hell I should be behind the wheel of a car just now. But I push all that away and start driving without really understanding where I’m heading. At one point my cell phone chirps to let me know the battery is dying, but instead of plugging it in I toss it into the backseat. Nearly an hour goes by before I realize I am on I-90, heading toward Winona.

  Toward Will.

  The sensible voices in my head try to point out all the stupidity of this course of action—nothing has changed between us; in fact, I have more reasons than ever to avoid Will —but I tune them out. I don’t know Winona well, so I stop at a gas station to pee and buy a map of the area, ignoring the attendant who looks at my haggard face and asks me if I “called the police on the guy who did that” to me. I check my reflection in the bathroom mirror: no visible injuries, but plenty of dry bloodstains and filth. My hair is hanging in twisty clumps, and there are bits of glass and wood embedded in it. Overall, I look like I just escaped from a serial killer’s basement torture chamber.

  I don’t care.

  Will’s apartment turns out to be a little second-story place above a deli that seems to cater to the college crowd. Everyone in the restaurant window stares at me when I walk through the glass exterior door and into the vestibule, but I don’t care about that either. I ignore the door leading into the deli and start up the stairs, but I find myself crumpling into a heap on the fourth step. I just don’t have the strength to go any farther.

  I lean sideways, resting my cheek on the linoleum stair above me. It smells like old mud and floor cleaner, and I decide the odor is completely tolerable. This was a terrible idea, I realize. I can’t pull Will into my life now any more than I could two months ago. Being here will only lead to one or both of us getting hurt again, and for what? So I can feel better for ten minutes today?

  For the first time it also occurs to me that Will has probably moved on. He’s handsome, kind, and compassionate, not to mention fully stocked with muscle. Did I really think he’d be waiting around for me?

  I need to leave. Any minute now, I’m going to have the strength to get up.

  Any minute now.

  Above me, I am dimly aware of a door closing and the sound of footsteps jogging down the stairs. They slow, and then stop. Pick up your head, Sashi, I command myself, but it’s a no-go.

  “Sashi?”

  Will crouches on the step next to me. He brushes hair away from my face, and I remember what a disaster I look like just now. Oh, well. When he clears my thick black hair away from my face, I can see his worried face above a green polo shirt.

  There are a lot of semi-intelligent things I could say in this moment, but instead the words that slur out of my mouth are, “You prolly hava girlfrien’ by now.”

  His brow furrows, making him look even more worried, but he gestures at me and says slowly, “Are you kidding me? Who could follow this act?”

  I giggle and fall asleep on the step.

  15. Sashi

  This time, I open my eyes to a dark room.

  I’m obviously in a bed. It’s warm in here, but there’s a light sheet covering me. My sandals are missing, but I squirm until I’m sure I’m still dressed in my T-shirt and yoga pants. Will’s, I remember. I came here to see Will.

  My body still feels a little weak, but I’ve obviously been asleep for a long time, because I desperately need to pee. My eyes are adjusting now and I can make out the outline of a nightstand with a lamp on it. I reach over and fumble around until I manage to switch it on.

  Squinting against the sudden brightness, I see that I’m in a large, relatively tidy studio apartment. If I didn’t already know it was Will’s, there are clues everywhere: Hockey equipment is stacked in one corner, and his postcards line most of one wall. There are a lot more than he brought with him to the hospital, and I want to go over and stare at them, run my fingers over the exotic photos. Places I would give anything to see.

  First, though, it is absolutely necessary that I pee. I spot a stack of towels and clothing on a desk chair, with a little piece of paper on top. Climbing out of the bed—I am still a little weak, but mostly fine—I go over and pick up the note. Gone to get some late dinner. Help yourself to shower, beer, etc. –Will

  Gratefully, I pick up the towel and find the bathroom, a small cube of a room that Will keeps reasonably clean. Or maybe I’ve just been here long enough for him to clean it. My watch says it is 10:30, which means I slept for close to fourteen hours. No wonder I have to pee. I relieve myself and take a fast shower, soaping my hair with the grocery store brand shampoo that Will has in the shower. When I’m done, I feel like a new person.

  And this person is lucid enough to know that she shouldn’t be around when Will gets back. I will only bring him more trouble and pain.

  I can’t bear to put my filthy outfit back on, so I dress quickly in the oversized T-shirt and athletic shorts Will has left for me. I can mail them back to him or something. Balling up my dirty clothes, I find my keys on a table near the front door, step into my sandals, and slip out.

  I go down the steps carefully, holding the railing, just in case another wave of weakness strikes. The deli is closed, so at least I don’t have to worry about anyone seeing me descend the stairs like a toddler. When I’m only halfway down, though, the bell over the exterior door jangles, and Will comes through it holding a grocery sack of white boxes. I freeze when I see him, and for a moment we just stare at each other. I am holding my clothes in a bundle and tiptoeing down the steps. It’s not hard to figure out what I’m up to.

  “You’re leaving?” Will says finally. “Just like that?”

  I swallow hard. “I’m sorry, I…I shouldn’t have come here.”

  Will puts down the plastic bag and leans back against the exterior door, crossing his arms over his chest. He’s not threatening me in any way, but it’s clear that I’m not going anywhere until he says so. “Who are you?” he asks.

  The phrasing is clumsy, but I know what he’s asking. Normal people don’t act like I have. “Just a girl who’s made bad decisions,” I tell him. “Please get out of the way.”

  Will doesn’t move. He looks tired and drawn, I realize, like he’s fighting off a summer cold or something. “And me?” Will asks. “Am I one of those bad decisions?”

  Without really intending to, I find myself sitting down heavily on the step behind me. I don’t know what to say to him. If I were a founding, meeting Will would be the best thing that had happened to me in years. But I’m a thaumaturge witch. Nothing can change that. “Accepting a ride from you,” I say quietly, “that was a bad decision. I should have left you alone.”

  He throws up his hands. “Why?” he demands. “I don’t hear anything from you for two months, and suddenly you’re here, but you have to leave again for my own safety?” He runs his fingers through his shaggy brown hair, his frustration obvious. �
��Are you in witness protection? An undercover cop? Why did you come here?”

  My eyes fill with tears. This is one situation Mum never trained me for. It never occurred to her that I might get close enough to a human to need to lie this badly. “I came here because I wanted you,” I tell him, “Because I was scared and angry and burned out, and you were the only person…” A sob rises in my throat, and I have to stop and collect myself. He waits patiently. “You were the only person I wanted to be with,” I finish, spreading my hands helplessly.

  He steps forward, onto the bottom stair. “Then stay,” he says. “Tell me what’s bothering you.”

  I shake my head, not moving from my step. “I wish I could, Will. But the more I tell you, the worse it will get for you.”

  “Are you in danger?” He’s so sincere, so worried, that I have to smile through my tears.

  “No. But if I get involved with you, you will be.”

  “That should be my decision to make,” he argues, sitting down on the next highest step, so we are nearly at eye level.

  “But it’s not,” I contend. “It’s my call. Tomorrow I have to go back to…my life. And you can’t be in it.”

  “Tomorrow?” Something shifts behind Will’s eyes. “What about tonight?” His voice is husky, and sudden warmth spreads through me, surging through my deadened body. Bringing me to life again.

  My breath catches in my throat. “Will—”

  He holds up a hand, stopping me. “Wait,” he insists, in a voice so low I find myself scooting down a step on my butt, closing the distance between us until we’re nearly touching. Will reaches up and wraps one finger in my damp hair. “Spend the night with me,” he whispers, his warm breath dancing across my lips. “I promise, I’ll leave you alone after tonight.”