Revenge: A Shifter Paranormal Romance

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Revenge: A Shifter Paranormal Romance Page 3

by Keira Blackwood


  I waited for the rest of his thought.

  “Well, we’re nice and boring here in Corbeau,” Trench said.

  “Anything… weird ever happen?” I asked, unsure how specific I could be before he decided I was crazy.

  “That’s a negative. Boring, boring, and dull,” he said, then laced his fingers.

  “No violence? No unusual circumstances or diseases?” I asked.

  “I wish,” he replied. “Might make my work a little more interesting. Then again, I’m usually night shift. Could just be that all the violent offenses come in while I sleep, and for whatever reason the whole town hides it from me. Does that seem more plausible to you, Mr. Barnes?” His words were mocking, but his tone remained the same—bland, even.

  “No,” I replied. “Thanks for your time.”

  “Mind and Body magazine.”

  “I’m not a reporter,” I said.

  “Okay,” he said. “If you say so. There’s no story to tell anyway. Take care, Mr. Barnes.” Was it sarcasm? Truth? I couldn’t tell. His pupils never changed. His tone never faltered. His slow pulse remained even.

  “You too,” I said, then turned for the stairs.

  I’d gained nothing from my visit to the clinic, except a feeling. There was no sign of zombies, no rotting, no beakers marked ‘flesh-eating virus.’ Still, I couldn’t imagine townspeople going missing without anyone knowing. And why did a tiny town with few deaths need two coroners? The usual daytime guy should have had it covered.

  It was nothing to go on. So I left the way I came, past the glass-caged receptionist, past the melted man, and out into the blinding sunlight and sweltering heat.

  Chapter Five

  Penny

  Only a wooden counter separated me from the rest of the store. There were a few tables with chairs beside shelves of bread, beer, and ammunition. It was a little bit of everything. And even though the rotating hotdogs and microwave pizza were nothing special, people came in every day to buy them.

  I never minded my shifts. It was the family business, after all. And it was something to do, a legitimate reason to be in town instead of hiding from the world back at the manor with everyone else. Plus, the days wasted away faster when there was something to do. And I was always looking for night to return.

  Mr. Wheeler waited on the other side of the counter for the sandwiches I assembled. Ham, cheese, and lettuce—everything was pre-portioned in the fridge. While I put them together, I listened to the elevator music that droned on over and over in the scratchy speaker. There were three tracks, and I knew every note of each.

  “No one does it quite like you.” I didn’t have to see the interaction to know that Austin was doing his damnedest to keep my sister’s attention.

  “What’s that?” Kaylee asked, with a soft and flirty tone.

  “Everything,” he said, in a voice I assumed was meant to be suave. “But I was referring to the float.”

  “So you come in here every night I work just for the ice cream?” Kaylee asked.

  “That’s one reason,” Austin said. I could just picture him leaning forward on his elbows, smiling at my sister with his googly eyes. She ate up every bite of his sickening sweetness.

  Really, I was happy for her. Kaylee was content doing what everyone else in the constable did—find a mate, settle down, never deviate from tradition. She had two years left before her first shift. But for Kaylee, it had always been Austin. She lit up in his presence, something she needed and deserved. And lucky for her, Austin had always felt the same. Simple. Easy. Nothing like my life.

  Eight sandwiches down; five to go. Mr. Wheeler whistled to the tune that played—song two. He knew them as well as I did. He was there every day, buying food for himself, and for his seven cats. I’d never met them, but I imagined his life to be like that painting of the animals playing poker. I knew they watched movies together, and ate ham sandwiches. So why not poker, too?

  Knock. The sound was quiet enough to be an accident, someone passing by outside, nothing important. But I knew better. Corey was at the back door.

  I cut bread and wrapped faster, piling everything in a paper bag.

  Her footsteps were quick, a skip in her step. I knew what my sister was thinking before she reached me.

  “Hey,” Kaylee said.

  “Hey,” I said, and turned to face her. Kaylee glowed, a smile beaming bright as the sun, excitement flickering in her green eyes.

  “I was thinking, that maybe…” She laced her fingers together and held her hands up by her cheek, pleading before she spoke the words.

  “You can go,” I said.

  “What?” she asked. “I didn’t even—”

  “I know,” I said. “Just go.” It was an easy decision. Even if Corey hadn’t been waiting out back for me I would have said yes. Kaylee deserved to be happy. And if I could help, I always would.

  “Really?”

  “Really,” I said. “I’ll be fine. You two go have fun.”

  “Thanks.” Kaylee squeezed me hard.

  I held my arm out, keeping the knife as far from her as I could, while she knocked all the breath from my lungs. With my free hand, I gave her a gentle pat.

  “You’re welcome.”

  “I’ll make it up to you,” she said.

  “I’m holding you to it,” I replied. “And don’t worry, I’ll make it good. Scrubbing toilets, picking up my early shift—I’ll think of something.”

  “Worth it,” she said, then bounced her way back to Austin.

  Kaylee’s smile was contagious; it left me feeling a little happier even after she had left. I finished the order, and sent Mr. Wheeler on his way. It was nearly time to close shop, and I had information waiting. Or so I hoped.

  But when I opened the back for Corey, the jovial feeling was gone as quickly as it had come.

  “Good evening, Penny.” His gaze slid over me, making me shiver.

  “Got something for me?” I asked.

  He leaned his shoulder against the bricks and slid his hands into his front pockets. “Nothing much,” he said, though the slight upturn of his lips told me he was lying.

  “Spill it,” I said, and crossed my arms.

  “There may have been a sighting,” he said, taking his sweet time. I waited. “You know who I’m talking about. Broken nose, messy blond hair…” He stepped closer, as if to walk inside. I barred the open door with my arm.

  “A guy like that might have been seen on the outskirts of town,” he said. “By the shelter.”

  “That’s it?” I asked, and let my arms drop.

  His grin faded, lips tightened, and skepticism took over his squinted eyes. “I can’t tell if you’re really disappointed or not,” Corey said. “Why do you have to be so hard to read?”

  “Just built that way, I guess,” I said.

  “What are you doing after work?” His smile returned.

  “You know what I’m doing,” I said. It was the same thing I did every night—hunting for my brother’s murderer.

  “It would be safer if you let—”

  “I’m fine, thanks,” I said.

  Corey shrugged. “Sure, if you say so.”

  I nodded. No argument, good. “Thanks for the intel.”

  “You know how to reach me if you change your mind,” he said. “Just call, okay?”

  “I get it, thanks,” I said.

  “You’re welcome,” Corey said, then turned and walked away.

  The thing was, he didn’t get it. No one did. I appreciated the offer, but the last thing I needed was a liability in a fight, or to lead him on. It was better like this—safer if he went back to the constable and left me to do what needed to be done.

  I went back inside and finished my shift. There was a whole lot of nothing happening, which was common after eight. I made myself a sandwich and grabbed some chips and a drink to take with me. When ten o'clock eventually crept around, I clicked the locks and headed out the back.

  Heat clung to the still, humid
air, unrelenting even after the sun had long fallen. Crickets chirped, and the town was quiet except for the sounds of distant country music and drunks at the bar. The cement step was hot, rough, and hard, even through the seat of my jeans, while the metal door was cool on my back. I looked over the lot where I’d taken on zombies the night before—the lot where the wolf had been.

  As if thinking of him was a summons, I caught the scent of snow-topped mountains and pine on the air. His silent approach did nothing to hide his presence, neither did the dark.

  “Can’t say I’m surprised to see you here.” His voice was deep, and filled my head with images of him the night before—dreams of rough hands on my bare skin, the taste of his lips. He stepped out of the shadows, leaving enough space for me to bolt if I needed to. Something told me that I wouldn’t.

  “Yeah,” I said. “I work here.”

  “I see,” he said.

  “And you’re here again, why?” I asked.

  “I have questions,” he said.

  “And you think I have the answers.”

  “Maybe,” he said. “But I didn’t know you’d be here.”

  “Oh?” I asked. “So you aren’t stalking me?”

  “I came to see the lot, actually,” he said.

  “It’s an exciting place,” I replied. “There’s brick buildings and blacktop. Can’t find that anywhere else?”

  “I’ve never seen bodies disappear from a public place,” he said. “No police tape. No scent or sign of blood left behind.” His stance was casual, at ease.

  Okay, so he had a point. “Zombies,” I said. It was all the explanation that was needed.

  “I noticed the attempt at flesh-eating,” he said. “But what makes you so sure that they’re monsters?”

  “Cannibalism isn’t enough for you?” I asked.

  He didn’t move, or show any sign of what he was thinking.

  “How about the eyes?” I pressed. “Or the fact that they never show up in the day? Usually that’s a good sign of a horror movie creature.”

  “Or a raccoon.”

  “Touché,” I said. And the strangest thing happened—I laughed.

  A sound echoed through the parking lot, a gurgling stomach sound. It came from the wolf.

  “Don’t tell me this conversation’s making you hungry,” I teased. His eyes sparkled with amusement.

  “I haven’t eaten since this morning,” he said.

  “That was stupid.”

  “Yeah,” he said. “I’ve been busy. Because, like I said, I have a lot of questions.”

  “Sure,” I said. “And being curious prevents you from eating.”

  “If it’s all-consuming,” he said.

  That struck home. There’d been days where I didn't eat, more nights where I didn’t sleep.

  When I said nothing, he continued. “I went to see the coroner today.”

  That filled me with questions. Was he looking for the zombies from the night before? Did he find them? I doubted it. What was he hoping to learn?

  “And what did he have to say?” I asked.

  “There was something… off about him,” the wolf said. “Not only that, but he said his job’s boring. I figured in a town where zombies, if we’re going with that, attacked people at night, a man in his position would have a little more to say.”

  “Maybe he just had nothing to say to you,” I said.

  “Possibly,” he said. “But he could have sent me away without even meeting me. I think he’s either a skilled liar, or there’s some other reason bodies never end up in the morgue.”

  Again his stomach rumbled. I stood on the step and walked over to him. “Here.” I offered him half my ham and cheddar sandwich. “If we’re going to keep talking,” I said, “we should eat.”

  “Thanks,” he said, and took it.

  His fingers brushed mine, and my breath caught. It was strange, like a chemical, electrical connection that set fireworks off. I’d never felt that before. It was different than my dream, different than anything I’d ever felt.

  “I’m Axel,” he said.

  I stared into his eyes, struck by the unfamiliar flutter in my core. And I realized I needed to speak, but the feeling of his touch still lingered, delaying reasonable thought.

  Finally, I replied, “Penny.”

  Chapter Six

  Axel

  Penny. The name suited her better than Raven. It was the copper of her eyes; it was the sparkle of something magnificent just beneath the surface. It was what had drawn me to her the night before, though I hadn’t realized it at the time. I’d seen myself, my anger, but what shone beneath was unfamiliar. And I craved another glimpse.

  Wild strands of ebony hair brushed the sharp line of her chin, swept across her forehead, and contrasted perfectly with her fair, ivory skin. So close, I listened to the gentle flutter of her heart, let her sweet, dewy scent fill my brain.

  “If you don’t like the looks of it, I’ll take it back,” she said, meeting my eyes with her gorgeous, copper set.

  “What?”

  “The sandwich,” she said, pointing at the food I held. “It’s not bad, promise.”

  I took a bite. The bread was fresh—crisp on the outside, soft in the center. Ham, cheddar, some kind of sweet and zesty mustard—it was the best thing I’d tasted in a long time. “It’s good, thanks,” I said. “I have to ask.”

  “Oh yeah,” she said. “What’s that?”

  “Your shift—”

  “Yeah I know,” she said. “It’s not like yours.”

  “That’s an understatement,” I replied. “I’ve never seen anything like it. There were no bone-cracking sounds, no stripping down, no shifter-like shift.”

  Penny nodded.

  “That must be a huge advantage,” I said. “I wish I could take my clothes with me when I shift without having to drag them around in my mouth. How? Just how does that work? Is it a crow thing?”

  “Raven.” Raven—just like her hair.

  “Okay,” I said. “Is it a special quality of raven shifters?”

  “Something like that,” she said.

  “I’ve never met a bird shifter of any sort before,” I said. “Are there fewer of you than wolves or bears?”

  Penny shrugged. “My constable’s not exactly social.”

  “Constable—like a pack?” I asked.

  “Yeah,” she said.

  “I thought murder was the term,” I said, “or pack. Everyone else seems to go by pack. Constable’s interesting, just like that shift.”

  “A group of ravens is typically called an unkindness. Murder is for crows,” Penny said.

  “I didn’t know that,” I said. “So where does constable come from?”

  “A little more flattering than unkindness,” she said, then shifted her weight and changed the subject. Was I making her uncomfortable? That certainly wasn’t my intention. “So if you’re having a tough time coming to terms with the existence of zombies, you must have thought I was pretty callous taking out those two.”

  “It’s not for me to judge,” I said.

  “And are you feeling guilty about the third?” she asked.

  “I didn’t kill him.”

  “What?” Her eyes went wide.

  “I didn’t know you,” I said. “I didn’t know him.”

  “So what the hell did you do with him?” she asked. Her body was tense. This was bigger than one night for her. We’d struck something deeper—a wound. “Don’t tell me you just let it go. That thing could be out there right now tearing someone to shreds. That’s what they do. That’s all they do. They kill.” Her heart pounded. Her eyes blazed.

  I had to choose my words carefully. This was make or break it. Keep her here or push her away. Usually I wouldn’t care. But with her, somehow, I did. “I’ve been traveling across the country,” I said. “I’ve spent years on the road, and never have come across anything like this. While I appreciate that the situation is very real to you, I’m still new to Corbeau. New to
zombies.”

  She studied my face, fists clenched as tightly as her jaw. I hoped she’d understand. I cared what she thought more than I should. I didn’t want her to go.

  “But I want to understand,” I said.

  Her shoulders dropped. “Tell me you didn’t let it go.”

  “Of course not,” I said. “Garfield’s back at my hotel room.”

  “You named it.” Her brows lowered in disapproval.

  “He does this thing,” I said.

  “Bite you?” she asked.

  “I’ll admit he’s tried,” I said. “But no, I meant what he says. I ask him something and he answers Garrrfiieeeld.”

  “I think you’re hearing what you want to,” she said. “They don’t talk. Not words at least.”

  “Come on,” I said. “I’ll show you. It’s unmistakable.”

  “And when he shows nothing but the hunger,” she said, “you step aside while I kill him.”

  That hatred was there, simmering at the surface. I could help her. I knew I could. She was me, or at least a better version.

  “You convince me that there’s nothing else to him,” I said, “and he’s all yours.”

  “Deal,” she said. “I’m holding you to it.”

  There was no question that she would. I had to think fast. What would it take to convince me? More importantly, what would it take to convince her that she was wrong? I looked at the blaze of coppery fire in her eyes. It would take a fucking miracle.

  Chapter Seven

  Penny

  I couldn’t hunt for Danny’s killer until this zombie was dealt with. And I couldn’t sleep until I’d searched for him. It was hard enough when I had.

  After this, Axel and I could go our separate ways, even if I didn’t really want to. After this, I could try to forget him, even if I couldn’t.

  “You’re not going to kill him until I’m convinced, right?” Axel raised his eyebrows and waited. He wasn’t going to open the door until I agreed. Stubborn.

  “I swear,” I said, meeting his gaze. Axel nodded, then turned the key.

 

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