by Meg Ripley
Araimeer looked surprised. “Well, yeah, somebody’s gotta be average, so not everyone has abilities. And some of us have other elements we can control—fire, minerals, water. Water would have been real handy.”
“But maybe not as handy as you. You summoned the stone,” Viseer said. “You’re stronger than we thought. I never thought we’d find a human this strong.”
“I never thought we’d find a human so calm,” Araimeer said, looking at Allie closely. “How do you feel? Your color is returning, and your eyes are back to normal.”
Allie took a deep breath, wondering how to answer the question. She felt better than she’d felt in years, but she didn’t want to admit what this meant for her. The entire ship probably knew about the attack by now, and would be sending submarines down to look for the wreckage. When her body wasn’t found, she would be presumed dead. Poor Collin, she thought. Then: Poor Carter.
Then something stirred in her mind. “You said you guys are travelers?”
Viseer look startled. “Yes, but you didn’t answer our—”
“And I’m a conduit. So, I’m stronger than other humans?”
Araimeer smiled. “Yes, but—”
“Okay.” Allie said. “What if I tag along with you guys?”
Viseer shook his head at once. “Absolutely not. It’s too dangerous. Do you even know the first thing about space? What about your health? What about your ship?”
“Her ship thinks she’s dead,” Araimeer reminded Viseer gently. The other alien fell silent, looking embarrassed. “And it’s our fault in the first place. You wanted to play with that jellyfish, and I let you. Your fascination with Earth creatures finally got us in trouble, and it nearly cost us a human life. What would the council say?”
Viseer’s cheeks blushed a brilliant red. “Fine,” he spat. “She can stay with us. For a while!” he added, as Araimeer and Allie cheered. “A trial run. In the meantime, we can think about contacting someone on your ship at some point, doing damage control if it’s an option. Now we have to get back to base, though. Is that okay with you, Allie?”
“That’s fine,” Allie responded gleefully. She and Araimeer grinned at each other while Viseer grumbled to himself and began to slip the lightening stone into it a soft pouch before stowing deep in the transporter’s engine. Her heart was pounding, and not from fear, but from the dizzying excitement of finding a new adventure at last. Araimeer slipped his cloak back on pulled out a fresh one for Allie; it fit her snugly, almost like it had been made for her in advance.
Araimeer turned to her and put one arm around her shoulder while Viseer finished packing up their surroundings. “So, you never did tell us how you feel now. How do you feel?”
Allie looked at the old wooden ship above them, with its dome of light protecting it from the crushing waters around them. Viseer flipped a switch on the transporter; after a moment, a beam of light flickered on and a shimmering doorway appeared out of thin air just behind it—she could see shifting dunes made of vibrantly colored sand, rounded matte-finished buildings in pastel shades, and disc-like vehicles zipping around in midair. Viseer had called it their base—was it their home planet? Whatever it was, it meant they were ready to report back, and Allie would need to be on her toes while she learned all she could on their next adventure. I’ll call Carter, tell him I’m alive and I’m doing my own thing for a while. It’s going to be hard, but he’ll understand, she decided as she gazed at the teleporter; then she laughed, imagining herself bursting out of his dorm room closet to deliver the news instead.
She raised her eyes to Araimeer’, taking his hand in hers as they followed Viseer toward the teleporter’s doorway. “I’ve never felt so alive.”
THE END
Super Sexy Shifter Romance By Meg Ripley
Bearer Of Secrets
Story Description
Marisol awakens to a dark secret that threatens to forever alter reality as she knows it–and her friend Dean, an impossibly gorgeous shifter cowboy, is the only man she knows who can understand her plight. Will he be the key that will unlock the door which allows her to escape her nightmare?
Marisol
Being the daughter of a bullfighter and a former rodeo queen, I’ve seen thousands of cowboys come and go, but I’ve never laid eyes on any man as expertly skilled–or as sexy–as Dean Longstrider.
Not only is he absolutely smoking hot, but he’s an amazingly talented bull rider, too. Hell, he’s won thousands of dollars riding some of the most untamable bulls in the country since arriving here in Wyoming, and I’m sure he’ll win even more–that is, as long as I don’t distract him too much.
Little did I know that over the summer, I’d discover an unexpected and dangerous side of myself–and Dean is the only person I know that I can turn to for help.
Dean
For my entire life, I’ve been living in the shadow of my uncle, the great Rory Longstrider, but now I’m finally starting to make a name for myself. I’m so close to the pro circuit, I can taste victory. Truth is, no shifter has ever been invited to ride with the pros, but I swear, I’ll be the first.
Being in this business sure comes with its perks. I have more offers from ladies than I know what to do with, but thing is, none of that matters to me–I have my eye on one woman and one woman alone: Marisol. She’s a great girl, and God, when I think about what I could do with those curves…it’s enough to drive a man–or werebear–buck wild.
When Marisol told me she was in trouble this summer, I swore to do whatever it would take to keep her safe, to protect what’s mine, even if it costs me the championship–or more…
“And now, the ride you’ve all been waiting for. The final ride of the night, and folks, this is for all of the proverbial marbles, and I ain’t kidding. Now this young man, Dean Longstrider, he’s got a lot on this ride. He had the highest score on Thursday night. He had the highest score on Saturday night, and folks, if he gets a score of 92 or better, he’ll win this purse, and this purse is nothing to sneeze at. No sir, it’s not. This purse has been generously doubled by our good sponsors at Franklin’s Chevrolet and it’s up to twenty thousand semolians, and you don’t need me to tell you, that’s a lot of semolians.”
It was a lot of semolians, especially for an amateur night in Cody, Wyoming.
Marisol whipped her apron off as the event announcer, Rocky, rattled on, filling the time between the bull riders. “I’ll be right back, Mama! Dean’s about to ride.”
“Did you clean the range?”
“Yes, Mama, everything is cleaned and the money box is counted up. I’ll be right back!”
Marisol flew from her mother’s food truck and under the packed bleachers to the tall fence around the arena. The chute gates were on the opposite side and her heart jumped to her throat as she waited for the sound of the buzzer that would mark the beginning of Dean’s ride. He was going to win the purse. Everybody knew it. Nobody could ride a bull like Dean Longstrider. Not even his uncle Rory, and Rory was a legend on the pro circuit.
Marisol grew up watching young men risk their necks and their lives on the backs of raging bulls. Her father, Ernesto, was a bull fighter and had been saving the lives of those young men for over twenty years. When she asked him if he’d ever seen anybody sit a bull like Dean, Ernesto had admitted that he couldn’t think of a single cowboy. Her heart had swelled with pride for her friend as she nodded in her head in agreement.
“He’s the best,” she’d gushed. “I think he’s the greatest I’ve ever seen.”
“He’s not the best. Not yet. Boy still has a long way to go to prove himself.” At her crestfallen face, Ernesto had added, “But he’ll get there. He’s got the talent, anyway.”
The gate suddenly crashed open and the giant red bull leapt into the arena. It did a hard twist in mid-air and slammed to the ground with a bone-breaking thud. Its hooves barely hit the dirt before it was dancing again, jumping and twisting and kicking its hind legs out as hard as it could. Dean sat astride
the bull with perfect form, his spine straight and left arm extended high over his head.
“Three...four...five…” Marisol counted under her breath, fingers clutching the chain link fence. Until she started watching Dean, she never understood how long eight seconds truly lasted. But Dean’s grip was strong, and though the bull did its best to fling him away, the buzzer sounded to the sound of the crowd roaring its approval of the ride. Marisol erupted into loud cheers, clapping and shouting Dean’s name with the rest of them.
She was so excited for Dean that it took her a moment to realize that something wasn’t right. Her father darted out and got hold of the rope around the bull’s girth, but even after the bull stopped kicking, Dean wasn’t jumping free.
“Uh oh, it looks like our cowboy is in a little bit of trouble. Let’s all give a big cheer or our bull fighter Ernie! Cheer loud and help him get Dean out of there.”
Marisol swallowed around the sudden lump in her throat. The bull kicked around, giving her a view of the left side where Dean’s leg was tangled in the rope. The animal was beyond furious now, ignoring all of Ernie’s attempts to distract it while his partner, Burt, dodged forward to get Dean untangled.
“Looks like our cowboy is stuck, folks. Give him another cheer! Let him know we’re here for him!” Rocky’s job was to keep talking, keep the crowd upbeat while the professionals got the bull under control, but Marisol wished he would shut up. She’d seen this same thing countless times and she knew as long as her father was in the arena, the cowboys would be safe, but Dean wasn’t like the other cowboys. She couldn’t look away, couldn’t even breathe, until the rope came free and Dean flung himself away from the raging bull.
The bull fighters moved quickly, Burt putting himself between Dean and the bull, and Ernie acting as human bait, taunting the bull until it charged him. Ernie dove out of the way at the last second, but the bull kept running right on back to its pen.
“Burt and Ernie, everybody! And let’s give it up for our young cowboy, Dean Longstrider, who just got a score of 94 from our judges. Not only the best ride of the night, this is the best ride of the whole event! He’s one smiling cowboy tonight, folks.”
Dean took off his hat, walking in a small circle, and waved to the cheering crowd. As he turned towards her, she jumped up and down, waving and cheering. She didn’t think he would see her, but his smile widened and then he was running out of the arena, and Rocky was inviting everybody to remain in their seats for the fireworks show.
That was Marisol’s signal to return to the food truck where her mother, Anna, was just locking up.
“Mari, go find your father. His ribs were bothering him all day and he probably needs your help.”
“Yes, Mama.”
She bolted before the fireworks ended, making it all the way to the pens before the crowd began to disperse. She didn’t see her father anywhere, but she did spot Dean and his brothers, Ralph and Waldo. Unsurprisingly, he was surrounded by a crowd of fans, pushing for his autograph. “It’s not worth much now,” she heard one of the cowboys say, “but it may be worth a cup of coffee in a few years.”
Most of the fans were young men—kids dreaming of the day they could climb on top of the biggest, meanest beast they could find—but not all of them. Ralph and Waldo each had their arm around a pretty cowgirl, and as Marisol approached, Dean mimicked them, pulling a statuesque cowgirl close to his side.
Marisol stopped in her tracks, her mouth going dry. Of course, she knew that there were plenty of girls who made it a habit to get as close to the cowboys as possible. Her mother had names for those girls, and none of them were very nice. It shouldn’t be a surprise to her that Dean got along with those girls. She hesitated, unsure if she should congratulate him as planned or scurry off before he noticed her to find her father.
Deciding on the latter, she half-turned, but Dean stopped her with a shout, “Hey! Marisol!”
She turned back to him, unable to stop her smile as he hurried over to her. “Hey, I was just about to come looking for you,” he said, pulling her into a quick hug.
“I can’t stay, I just wanted to say congratulations. That was a hell of a ride.”
“Did you see it?”
“Of course. You know I never miss seeing you ride.”
“What did you think?”
Marisol laughed. “I think you won twenty thousand dollars!”
“Who’s your little friend, Dean?” The blonde took Dean by the arm and smiled down at Marisol.
“Oh, this is Marisol. She’s Ernie’s daughter and she probably knows more about riding bulls than anybody else around here. Everybody wants to know what my secret is.” He nodded at her, his smile big enough and warm enough to make her forget the interloper for a moment. “Mari, this is Cady. She’s an old friend from way back.”
Marisol offered her hand, even as her stomach twisted into a hot knot. “It’s nice to meet you, Cady.”
“Mari! Come and help your old man.” Ernesto leaned heavily on the stock gate and even from a distance of twenty feet, she could see him favoring his right side. She threw a quick farewell to Dean and happily took advantage of the excuse to get away from him and his old friend.
“We need to get these ribs wrapped,” Marisol said as she draped his arm over her shoulders. Almost as tall as her father and weighing nearly twice as much as his beanpole frame, it wasn’t difficult to support him across the arena. She couldn’t resist looking over her shoulder to catch one final glimpse, but Dean already had his back turned to her, his arm comfortably around Cady’s petite waist.
She didn’t think about Cady again until much later that night, once she was tucked in her own bed. Her mind was free to wander, and it went back to Dean and Cady again and again. It did no good to compare herself to the other woman, but she couldn’t help but note all the ways they were direct opposites. Cady was tall, probably nearly six feet, and willowy with a flawless complexion and clear blue eyes. Marisol was a good six inches shorter and probably thirty inches more around. Her muddy brown eyes didn’t twinkle like Cady’s, and her curly brown hair was usually tangled, not straight and shiny.
Marisol rubbed her hands down her breasts and over her plump stomach and wide hips. She’d started filling out at an early age, and by the time she hit high school, her body was shaped by natural, generous curves and the many long hours she worked with her parents, traveling from rodeo to rodeo. If Dean liked girls like Cady, it was no wonder that he never tried to be more than just Marisol’s friend.
Not that her parents would ever allow her to be more than Dean’s friend. They had a hard enough time letting her talk to him about bulls and his rides. “He might know how to ride a bull, but never forget he’s a Longstrider,” her mom had told her, more than once. He hadn’t only inherited his uncle’s legacy as a bull rider, but his father’s legacy as a bear shifter. Nobody said the words out loud, but it was a well-known secret; a secret Marisol longed to ask him about nearly every single day. Curiosity ate at her. How often did he shift? What was it like? Were his brothers bears as well?
But those questions joined the rest in the pile of forbidden inquiries that also included Do you ever think about kissing me? and Would you like to go for a drive?
Her phone buzzed, letting her know a text had arrived. Her curious frowned transformed into a smile when she saw Dean’s name.
R U busy tomorrow night?
She quickly typed out her response. No plans after the rodeo.
Grab a bite with me?
Yes.
Great. Get some sleep, beautiful.
She smiled, her jealousy over Cady forgotten. Maybe she couldn’t be his girl, but his friendship still meant a lot to her. She would miss him when he moved up to the pro circuit. Good night, cowboy.
****
“Who are you texting?” Ralph asked.
“Nobody.”
“Oh, I hoped it was Cady.”
“Why?” Dean asked, putting his phone back in his pocket and lookin
g away so his younger brother wouldn’t see his small smile. He’d been afraid Marisol wouldn’t respond to his text, and his heart jumped with relief when her message came so quickly. “What did you want me to say to Cady?”
“I don’t know, maybe you could have apologized for being so rude? Or invite her and her friends to join us?”
“You have her number. Why don’t you invite her and her friends out?”
Ralph rolled his eyes. “Because she doesn’t want to hear from me, dipshit. She wants to hear from you.”
“Look, if you want to hook up with one of her friends, you should have got her number. Or ask Cady for it. I don’t have to be involved.”
Ralph shook his head. “Man, I don’t get you. You just win the biggest purse of your life, you have a beautiful woman who drove in all the way from Utah to see you, and you don’t even want to have a celebratory beer. It’s all, ‘Get your shit together, boys, time to turn in.’ ”
“Winning one purse doesn’t mean anything changes.”
“Are you kidding me? Everything has changed, man!” Waldo lifted his head from the backseat of the trailer “We’re freaking rich!”
“We? Did you ride that bull?”
“No.”
“Did you pay my entrance fee?”
“No.” Waldo admitted.
“Then shut the hell up. There’s no we here. Besides, twenty thousand isn’t a lot. It’s enough to keep this outfit going for another few months, if we’re lucky. If you two want to party, do it on your own dime and your own time, got it?”
“Got it,” they grumbled as one.
“Good,” Dean said, leaning forward to turn up the radio. His fingers itched to pull out a cigarette, even though he hadn’t smoked in over a year, and his toes tapped with nervous energy he couldn’t quite quell. He would never give his younger brother the satisfaction of saying so, but Ralph had been right about celebrating. After that kind of ride and that kind of purse, it made perfect sense for him to go out and blow off a little steam. Cady would have been happy to join him in that endeavor, but the problem was that he wasn’t very interested in her.
