The Aberrants Box Set (Books 1-5)

by Sarah J. Stone

  He grimaced at that. “Ugh, sweet. That’s possibly the least sexy adjective in existence.”

  “I dunno. I think in this terrible, dog eat dog world, sweet is one of the best things you could be called. Kindness is in short supply.”

  “Well, in that case, thank you. I guess I should be flattered with you giving me such a wonderful adjective then.” He pulled his own backpack forward and unzipped it. “Which means I expect and even better one when I reveal that I brought a couple of roast beef sandwiches.”

  “What? You do know a way to a girl’s heart.”

  “Not every girl, just one that’s obsessed with food.”

  “You picked up on that very quickly.”

  “Well, when a girl wakes up from a near death experience and quickly switches from ‘give me food to eat’ to ‘eat me out’, I was able to put two and two together to figure out that there was a pretty strong connection between the two very different ways of getting filled up.”

  She blushed and grabbed the sandwich from him before quickly taking a large bite. Chewing and swallowing gave her time to think of what she wanted to say. “I like sex and I like food. Sue me.”

  “Nah, I don’t think there’s anything wrong with that. In fact, I think most people share the same compulsions, but they like to hide it up in prettier words and higher purposes like they’re oh-so much more evolved than us basic, horny folk.”

  “So, what you’re telling me is that you’re horny?”

  “I would have thought that much would be obvious. Not that it’s your responsibility, or anything. I’m not trying to make you feel guilty or anything, just acknowledging-”

  She could tell that he was quickly transitioning from backpedaling to word vomit all in the fear of saying the wrong thing, so she quieted him in the best way she knew how. Leaning toward him, she rested her hands on either side of his face and pulled him inward for a kiss.

  This time, when their lips met, there wasn’t as much burning, frantic need. Instead a pleasant but calming rush of comfort filled her at the affectionate touch.

  Slowly, his arms came to rest around her middle, pulling her closer to him without the crushing need that they had held her before. She could tell he wanted her, with every fiber of his being, but he wanted her to want him just as badly.

  When they finally broke apart, he was wearing that familiar wan smile of his that she was beginning to realize was his default expression. “That was nice,” he said, leaning back against the tree for support.

  “It was,” she agreed, curling into his side to look out at the magnificent view.

  “Was that a onetime thing, or can I expect a little mild canoodling every time I frantically try to extricate my foot from my mouth?”

  “It was a ‘because I felt like it’ thing. And who knows, you keep being so nice, and maybe I’ll feel like it again.”

  “That sounds like an arrangement I can handle.” He squeezed her gently before relaxing a bit. She could definitely see herself getting comfortable here especially with a man as understanding as John. Yet, as much as she didn’t want to admit it, her thoughts kept returning to David.

  How was he? Was he eating? Was he puzzling over the strange incident and how his long-term girlfriend had disappeared into thin air at the same time as a mysterious murder happened in the mechanic shop? Or had he already moved on like the simple farmhand he was?

  She had had a boyfriend or partner ever since she had hit fifteen, if only to get her out of pinches when she went particularly feral. She had left all of them behind just as quickly and it had never much bothered her before. A day, maybe two tops and her previous paramour was only a foggy memory in her head.

  So why was David popping back into her thoughts while she was cuddling with someone a week later?

  She didn’t know or have an answer for it, so she just shoved the thoughts out of her head. She didn’t have time to dwell on it, anyways. She would be leaving any day now… it was just a matter of time.

  Chapter Six: Delayed Gratification

  Jaelle was a terrible liar, and yet she found herself constantly duping herself into a false sense of security. Every morning she told herself she would disappear into the night while John was asleep on the couch, and every night she told herself she deserved one more sleep in his king-sized bed. Before she knew it, one more week had passed and they had settled into a bit of a routine.

  She was playing a dangerous game and she knew it. Every moment she stayed in one place was a day closer to danger. And yet she couldn’t bring herself to leave. She felt both happy and safe, and that was a feeling that she didn’t mind having around considering her entire world had been rocked by coming face-to-face with an Aberrant as it stood in a puddle of blood that she still didn’t know who it belonged to.

  In truth, she was scared. Terrified down to her core on what would happen if the Aberrant or the hunters caught her. All she could do was hope they kept each other occupied long enough for her to get away.

  And yet… she wasn’t getting away.

  The stress of it all was taking a toll on her sleep, and she rolled over with discomfort. Her eyelids fluttering, she instinctively scanned the room, looking for John’s form on the couch just like every other night.

  He wasn’t there.

  She sat bolt upright, her heart instantly in her throat as her stomach lurched.

  “John?” she questioned, her voice warbling slightly.

  There was no answer.

  She slid out of bed, not caring if she was dressed in only her sports bra and a pair of her host’s boxers, and rushed to the living room and office area.

  “John!?” she called again, a bit more urgently.

  Still no answer. Taking a deep breath, she couldn’t catch his scent as being present, and her ears weren’t picking up on a heartbeat.

  She was full on sprinting as she tried the kitchen and the bathroom. He wasn’t in either of those either.

  “John! Where are you?”

  He didn’t seem like the type to just get up and go in the middle of the night without telling her, especially since he had left her in the middle of his place, sleeping in his bed. The only thing she could imagine was it had to be some sort of emergency, but what kind of emergency did a graphic designer have in the middle of the night?”

  She dashed outside, taking in several deep breaths. He didn’t have a car, because what kind of hermit Shifter needed a car? Which mean that he was on foot. And if he was on foot, she could find him.

  But which direction?

  She couldn’t find his scent in her human form, even with her enhanced Shifter senses. She needed to… alter her physiology a bit.

  Concentrating, she focused on elongating her snout. Her mind conjured up images of a bloodhound, droopy skin, wet noses, long dribbles of drool and all. She felt her face begin to shift, melding into the shapes and functions she needed until finally she caught the smell she was looking for.

  It was undoubtedly John’s, smelling of his particular brand of body wash with an underlying musk to it, topped with keyboard cleaner. She took off in the direction, trying to cook up an excuse if she caught him in the middle of a midnight stroll. After all, he thought she was an Aquarian Shifter and that belief would certainly clash with her very canine face.

  She only made it a few yards into the woods before something bit at her attention, snapping her nose in the direction of the pungent smell. She paused, sniffing through her modified snout.

  Salt was the first thing she picked up on, heavy with stress so it was most likely either sweat or tears. And then, finally, the metallic scents drifted to her. They were unmistakable in their aroma, and terror tore through her as her mind supplied exactly what it was.

  Blood.

  Cursing, she ran in the direction of the scent, horror stories filling her mind. She could all too clearly picture his body splayed out, the undulating form of the Aberrant above him. Or the hunters having him strung up, using him like bait to draw h
er out.

  Yet even with those risks, she didn’t slow for a second.

  The blood was getting closer now, and her only solace was that it didn’t seem to be a large amount. When she was almost on top of it, she pulled her features back and slowed.

  “John!” she called. “John, are you all right?”

  She heard the unmistakable whine of a wolf and rushed in that direction. Sure enough, she saw that he was caught in an expertly hidden and very illegal jaw-trap.

  “Oh, my god, John!” she cried, kneeling beside him and throwing her arms around him. “I can’t believe I found you.” She didn’t waste any more time on her grateful sentiment and immediately bent down to look for the hinge of the trap.

  These things were a bane to pad-footed Shifters everywhere. Although most were clumsily laid out with non-sentient animals meant for their pray, occasionally an exceptionally skilled woodsman would come along and lay one that fooled Shifter and animal alike. The worst part about such traps was usually that one couldn’t revert back to their human form, lest the transformation cause the sharp teeth of the device to bite fully through the human ankle and amputate it.

  “Don’t worry,” she continued to sooth. “I gotcha. I’ve handled these before.”

  Her fingers found the small latch that caused the tension and she wiggled it out. To his credit, John didn’t whine at any of the small movements, even though she was sure they were causing him terrible pain.

  A small clink sounded and the trap fell open, freeing the wolf Shifter’s trapped foot. He toppled forward, and by the time he hit the forest floor he was human again.

  “John, are you all right?” She rolled him onto his back and was glad to see that he was very much conscious, although completely covered in sweat.

  “Not feeling my best, if I’m honest,” he croaked, still smiling at her, although with a lot less enthusiasm than usual.

  “I imagine. Let me check your ankle.”

  “No, get me to my cabin first where we can make sure nothing gets in it. I’m not bleeding too badly. How did you find me, anyways?”

  “I woke up from a nightmare and went on a walk when I thought I smelled blood. What were you going out here?”

  “I woke up from a much more pleasant dream and just needed a little… alone time to clear my head.”

  It wasn’t funny and yet she found herself giggling. “So, you’re saying a sexy dream caused all of this.”

  “I’m embarrassed enough as it is, please don’t rub it in.”

  “Right. Not the place, or the time. Do you think you can get up?”

  “Yeah. I think so.”

  “All right, let’s take this slow.”

  “You know, that’s not the first time I’ve heard that.”

  “Hah, I’m sure.” Carefully, she got to her feet and pulled John up, slinging one of his arms over her shoulders and wrapping her free arm around his waist. “Thankfully, you’re not that far. Just a couple of moments. Deep breaths now.”

  Step by step, they progressed through the woods. It was strange, but she was quite relieved now. Sure, it sucked that John was hurt, but he was decidedly not murdered or otherwise horribly maimed. It was only as they trundled along that she realized how incredibly lucky she was to have met John. There had been so many times he could have taken advantage, or helped her. He could have flipped out when she suddenly got cold feet during their short-lived romp. He could have asked her to leave, but he didn’t do that, either.

  Compassion, warm and fluid, bubbled up within her. She liked to think she was so hard, but in reality, she was melting on the inside for the sweet redhead.

  Despite all of her declarations that she need to be alone, to get as far away from civilization as possible, she was quickly realizing that she hated being alone. She wanted comfort. She wanted a companion to curl up with. To lick her wounds when she was hurt.

  She could survive without another half, but that type of surviving was so far from actually living.

  Finally, they stumbled through the still-open door of John’s place. In a weird reversal, she was the one helping John onto his bed and rolling up his pant leg.

  “We need to sterilize it first, before it heals. I had a friend have a bullet hole close up on them and then went septic from it.”

  “Gotcha.” He said, surprisingly calm given the situation. “You know, when I’ve heard about playing Doctor, it had a whole different connotation.

  “Hilarious. Where’s your alcohol?”

  He smiled shakily at her. She could tell that he was trying to lighten the mood, but this wasn’t the time. “Now that sounds more like what I imagined. You a whiskey girl?”

  “Not what I meant. I mean your rubbing alcohol and hydrogen peroxide.”

  “I know.” He let his head fall back and sighed. “But nothing like a little humor to help lighten up a situation.”

  “We can worry about lightening up after I’ve got you taken care of.”

  “Priorities, gotcha. My first aid stuff is all below the sink in the bathroom.’

  “Great.” She stood and realized that maybe now would be a good time to administer a bit of comfort. “Be back in just a minute. Don’t die on me, okay?”

  “From an ankle wound?”

  “Stranger things have happened.”

  “I do not want to live the life you have if that wouldn’t register as one of the strangest things you had ever seen.”

  She shook her head as she rushed to the bathroom, grabbing the entire first aid bin and hauling it to his room. Logically, she knew that she was overreacting to the situation and now that her friend was out of the trap that the worst of the danger had passed, but that didn’t mean the emotional side of her understood that. All her brain was telling her was that a friend was hurt. And, considering she didn’t exactly have friends in spades, she wanted to make sure this one stayed alive.

  There was quite a bit of blood, which made sense given that his body had suddenly rapidly changed in size. All those veins and capillaries were trying to make sure they were doing their job and pushing blood to the new, appropriate limbs, but instead were pumping it out onto the sheets.

  Just like John said, she cleaned the wound, dumping the alcohol on it and gently wiping away the grit with a damp cloth. The wolf Shifter winced, but otherwise bit his tongue, which made it much easier to proceed. Once she had a clear view of the already healing trap-marks, she then poured the peroxide over it to clean it out even more.

  It bubbled for several minutes, before eventually subsiding. From there she wiped it away and wrapped it up in the cause before sealing the edge with a band aid.

  “Not bad,” he said, sitting up and blowing a long buff of air out of his face.

  “Thanks, I try my best. Do you think you can hobble over to the couch and let me clean up the bed? I don’t think you want to lay in the bloody-alcohol puddle we’ve created.”

  “Maybe if a certain rescuer helped me over, I might manage.”

  She laughed quietly before clambering off the bed and offering him a hand yet again. He was able to get to his own feet much more easily than when she had first helped him hobble away from the trap, and they made it to the couch without much to-do.

  “You know, if you hadn’t washed up on shore, I would have been completely alone out there,” he murmured as he watched her clean up. She went through the motions, bundling up the sheets, putting them into the washer and dryer, so on and so forth, but her mind was firmly on monitoring John as she puddled around.

  His heartrate was fine and he wasn’t exuding adrenaline or any other stress hormones. He was going to be fine, and she couldn’t be happier.

  Once everything was all said and done, the sheets were replaced, the dirty fabric was in the dryer, and John said he was well enough to try a shower. Jaelle resisted the urge to mommy him back onto the couch to rest, figuring he was a grown man and she needed to trust that he knew what he could and couldn’t do.

  She could hear the water r
unning in the other room and it soothed her further, reminding her that John was safe and sound. She had no choice but to admit that she had let herself grow attached. Was it just because she was desperate for a connection after having her life stolen from her so abruptly? Or was it a genuine connection? It was hard to say. And frankly, she didn’t care. All thoughts of where she should run away to and how fast had faded during the short rescue, and now she just wanted to make sure that John was fine.

  Actually, she wanted him to be more than fine.

  The water cut off and she straightened as she sat on the bed. She was feeling that same longing for comfort that she always had when going feral, but it was lacking the stark desperation and uninhibited hunger.

  John walked in, a towel wrapped around his waist and that same beautiful smile on his face. “Man, I know I should probably be exhausted after all this, but I feel super energized. My blood’s pumpin’, everything’s looking up. That’s weird, right?”

  “It’s just the aftereffects of adrenaline plus the endorphins that the accelerated healing process causes.”

  He gave her a look. “That was an awfully biomechanical-heavy sentence for someone who should be more just-mechanical.”

  That forced a laugh out of her. “Strange life, remember? I’ve had enough run ins with doctors to memorize their lingo.” Her eyes roved over his clean form as he talked to her. Why was he shirtless again? Not that she was complaining, but it made the longing in her that much harder to ignore.

  “You know, when you look at me like that it almost makes me bashful.”

  Once more, there were two ways she could play this. She could blush and backpedal so things would return to the way they were.

  Or she could give in.

  “What could you possibly have to be embarrassed about?” She asked, standing up and taking a step closer to him. “You’re handsome. You’re successful. You’re kind, and you’re brave. So far, I’m not really seeing any downsides.”

  He sent her a curious, but not discouraging look as she approached. “You’re only saying that because you haven’t gotten to know me.”

  “I don’t think so.” She reached him and her hand went to his bare front, resting against the skin there. He was so warm, as wolves often ran several degrees higher than most other Shifters, and his skin had a certain masculine sort of roughness that hers lacked. It reminded her of David, but she quickly tried to shove that out of her mind. It would ruin the moment more than anything. “They say that nothing brings people closer than traumatic situations, and since we’ve both saved each other’s life, I would say that we know each other pretty well.”