Revenge: A Shifter Paranormal Romance

by Keira Blackwood

  “You’re different,” he said.

  “I am,” I agreed, “and always have been. But it’s been worse lately. The divide between me and my family has grown from a crack to a canyon. Do you know what I mean?”

  “I do,” he said.

  “So what’s your story?” I asked, then took a bite of bacon, egg, and cheesy goodness.

  “You really want to know?” he asked.

  There was a sadness in his dark eyes. I almost regretted asking. What if I was pushing him away? But I wanted to know him, even the dark parts, or especially those. Struggle and heartbreak define us. How bad could it be anyway?

  “I do.” I had to know.

  “I’m a terrible person,” he said. “I’ve always known it was true. I was an angry kid, who grew into a hateful man.”

  I wanted to interject and console him, tell him that his perception was wrong. But, I needed to let him continue.

  “It started after my mom died,” he said, “and only got worse when I ended up with a stepmother and two stepbrothers that I could never live up to. I was smaller, and always felt like less. They hated me, and I hated how well they got along, how much the pack loved them. Sons of the alpha, through and through.”

  “How does that make them better?” I asked, feeling like I was missing something.

  “That was exactly what I asked myself. Over and over,” he said. “It wasn’t until my father was murdered that everything changed. He was killed by a madman, for no other reason than to send a message to my stepbrother.”

  “I’m so sorry,” I said. I knew exactly what kind of impact that could have. I was living it every day.

  “I became obsessed with revenge,” he said. “Until I got it. Eventually, I was face to face with the man that murdered my father. I tore him apart. And when he was dead, you know what happened?”

  “You found peace?” I asked, hoping that it was true. It was what I searched for.

  “I wish,” he said. “I hated myself more than ever. I’d never killed a man before, and with every day that passes, I wish I hadn’t.”

  “Why?”

  “Because it didn’t help,” he said. “It didn’t bring him back. It didn’t heal any of the wounds. They’re all still there.”

  Could I really just walk away from all of this? Is that what Danny would have wanted? Probably. If I found the zombie I searched for, if I got my revenge, would I end up regretting it just as Axel did? I hoped it would be different for me. But even if everything just got worse, I couldn’t give up.

  “So you ran,” I said, only part in question. I knew because his story was mine in so many ways. I was running right now, just not as far.

  “I’ve been running ever since,” Axel said. “Not just from the place where it all happened, but from myself. I don’t want to be that man anymore. Not the angry kid, not the vengeful bastard that I grew into.”

  “If it helps,” I said, “I don’t think you’re a bastard.”

  “Maybe you just don’t know me well enough yet,” he said.

  “I think I do,” I said. “You could have killed Zombie Seth Ricci, Garfield, that night we met, but you didn’t. You could have told me to fuck off instead of letting me stay with you. And you could have brought back only enough food for yourself.” I accentuated the last sentence with a big bite of my sandwich.

  “A breakfast can’t make up for what I’ve done,” he said. “Nothing can.”

  “Maybe it’s more about surviving each day than about what we can’t change,” I said. “You aren’t the only one who’s made mistakes.”

  “Penny,” he said, with a soft look that contrasted everything else about him, “I don’t know who they took from you, but it’s not your fault.”

  How did he know I’d lost someone? Or that I blamed myself? How could he possibly know what was wrong with me?

  “It is,” I said. “It was all my fault.”

  Axel placed his hand on mine. It was warm, and comforting. He wasn’t a terrible person, no matter what had happened in his past. He was kind and caring.

  I took a deep breath, then shared the story that started it all.

  “A year ago, I didn’t believe in zombies,” I said. “No one did. Corbeau was quiet, and peaceful. Or at least I thought it was.”

  Axel squeezed my hand, a gift of strength that I desperately needed.

  “Maybe they were already here, and I just didn’t know. Either way, everything changed in one night,” I said. “Back then, the constable didn’t have a curfew. Ravens were still secretive, but we were free to go out at night. So we were out all the time, my brother Danny, and me.”

  “Where did you go?” Axel asked.

  “To the movies,” I said. “They were showing classic films every Thursday night. It was Battle Fu Fist Thirteen, and I wanted to see it. It was my idea to go. My badgering that made my brother agree to join me. It was my fault that he was there.”

  “You were attacked at the movies?” Axel asked.

  “After,” I said. “I had to use the bathroom. Danny went outside to wait for me. When I came out…I found him, and the yellow-eyed monster that murdered him.” Pictures flashed through my brain—the creature kneeling over my brother, his lifeless body, the dark puddle that grew across the pavement.

  I’d expected the speech I’d heard a thousand times. I’d expected him to say what everyone else did—it’s not your fault, a tragedy but you need to move on. But he didn’t. Axel surprised me.

  “He’s the one you’re after,” Axel said.

  “Yeah,” I replied.

  “Tell me what he looks like,” Axel said.

  “White-blond hair, messy and medium length. Fit arms, and a beer gut. Wide, broken nose,” I said.

  Axel was quiet, so I told him the last of it. I told him my intention, in case it wasn’t clear.

  “And I can’t stop until I find him,” I said. “I won’t. Even if it means being disowned by my constable, my family, everyone I know. I need to do it for Danny, for me.”

  “I’ll be here,” Axel said.

  “I know,” I said, and inched closer to him. Somehow I did, even before he told me so. I knew deep down before I’d told him my story. It was why I told him, because I knew he understood.

  His hand remained over mine. The distance between us felt infinitely too much, though we were only inches apart. I could almost feel him through the air, through every breath and every heartbeat, through the electricity that drew me to him. I stared into his dark eyes, a brown so rich that it nearly matched my feathers. It was a color that suited him, intense and dark, alluring and deep.

  His lips were soft, a gentle caress as they brushed mine. The smoky flavor of bacon mingled with the rich masculinity that was only him. I kissed him back, needing this connection more than breath, more than anything.

  I slid my hand up his arm, exploring the hard muscles I’d only dreamed of touching. There was strength in everything about him, so different from anyone else I’d ever met. I was drawn to that strength, to the darkness, to the wolf.

  I licked the seam of his lips, and a deep, masculine sound rumbled through him, the growl of a feral beast, and it turned me on. Desire coiled through me, every inch of my skin yearning for his touch. I wanted this. I wanted him.

  His lips parted, just before he pulled away.

  Confused, I stared at him, as he leaned his forehead on mine. His eyes were downcast. What had I done wrong?

  Chapter Twelve

  Axel

  Distance was crucial. With every conversation, with every kiss, it grew harder to deny my desire for my mate. If I’d been stronger, maybe I could have left Corbeau. But for the first time, my weakness didn’t make me run—it made me stay.

  Tension still remained, the unspoken question in her eyes. I wanted to reassure her, but that would only make it harder for her when I left. And I would leave, when I knew that Penny was safe, that her brother was avenged, and when I knew that she would be okay. It was for the best, as w
as picking up where we had left off in our investigation.

  “We should go back to the shelter,” I said.

  “What?” Penny asked, the hurt was clear in her eyes.

  There’d been no sign of zombies at the animal shelter the night before. But between the appearance of Penny’s sister, and the fact that it was our only real lead, I was eager for a more thorough search of the building. Even more so, I needed to get out of the motel and put space between us.

  “Let’s see if we can get something more from the animal shelter,” I said. “It’s all we have to go on.”

  She paused, and searched my face. I wondered if she’d question me. She didn’t, at least not with words.

  “Yeah,” she said. “Sure.”

  It pained me to hurt her. It was the last thing I wanted to do. That was why she was better off without me. That was why it was better to push her away.

  We rode to the shelter in silence, and said nothing to each other until we entered the building.

  Desperation, sweat, fur, piss, and chemicals—the stink of the place made it difficult. I would have preferred to remain outside. Dogs were just too much like the wolf in me. Standing in the building was like being in the center of a prison, my cousins caged on every side.

  “You okay?” Penny whispered while we waited at the counter.

  I nodded.

  “You look queasy,” she said, as she studied my expression.

  “I—” An average-sized blond guy stepped out from the tunnel of cages and up to the counter. His cheeks were round and hairless, his expression dull. He looked like he was twelve. And his name tag labeled him ‘Rage.’

  “Lose your dog or you want one?” he asked, in the voice of an emotionless robot. Rage looked first to me, then to Penny.

  “We’d like to look around,” Penny said, taking my hand. Warmth traveled through me from her touch. “See if there’s a sweet addition for our home.”

  “Sure,” the drone said, and opened the wooden half-door that separated the front of the room from the back. “Help yourself.”

  “Thanks,” Penny said with a smile.

  Rage lifted earbuds to his ears and started some girl band pop crap as we walked away. Rage—this couldn’t have been the man, or child, his parents had envisioned.

  Fluorescent lights buzzed and flickered overhead. Dogs lined up at the doors of their cages. Some yapped, others howled. Tails wagged. Eyes pleaded.

  Once we turned a corner, Penny released my hand, and her smile with it. The ghost of her touch remained on my palm, an echo of her warmth.

  “I don’t smell anything,” she said.

  “No,” I agreed. “There’s no way your guy is spending his days hiding from the sun in here. There would be some sign—if not half-eaten dogs, then at least the stink of him.”

  Penny nodded, then continued down the hall.

  Even if it was just for show, I missed the way she’d held my hand, though I knew I had no right to. I followed, watching the way her small hips swayed as she walked. Feminine yet understated, she was exactly what I’d always wanted but had never known.

  Penny stopped and turned to one of the cages, and stared inside.

  “Did you find something?” I asked, looking through the metal grid for some sign of blood or trace of the monster we sought.

  “He reminds me of you,” she said, looking not at the dark space in the cage, but at the little gray mop that stood by the wall. One ear was missing, one eye scarred shut. His fur was long, thick, and tangled. Not much bigger than a cat, the mutt looked like he’d been on the wrong end of more than one fight. While all of the other dogs had come to the doors, this one hung back.

  “Ugly,” I said.

  “No,” Penny said. “He’s a survivor.”

  “Looks to me like he’s one fight away from his last.”

  “Really?” she asked. “Because it looks to me like there’s more to him than that.”

  Penny opened the cage.

  “He could be vicious,” I said, holding her wrist.

  “I don’t think so,” she said, and pulled away. She stepped inside the cage, and I followed. I wouldn’t let that thing harm her. When he attacked, I’d be there to protect her.

  She crouched down two feet away from the dog. He bared his teeth, though not at her. At me.

  “Penny…” I said. This was not the kind of animal that wanted to be pet. It was the kind that wanted to be left alone. Maybe he was like me after all.

  “There’s nothing left. A shadow stands where joy once lived. Fragments shattered long ago.” Sultry and sorrowful, Penny sang to the mop dog.

  I stared at the woman crouched on the floor, the woman with the voice of an angel. She was always surprising me. And with every new thing I learned, I loved her more.

  The mutt jumped to her, not with fangs bared, not in an attack, but to lick her hands. She stroked his back, while she sang her sad, beautiful song.

  When she finished, she stood.

  “Where’s that song from?” I asked.

  “My mother used to sing it,” Penny said. “She had a beautiful voice.”

  “So do you.”

  “Thanks,” she said. Then she looked back down toward the dog. “Maybe when this is all over, I’ll adopt him.” I looked at her, wondering. Was she talking about the dog at all? Her eyes sparkled as she looked at me, deep copper shimmering with unspoken promises. Did she feel the same draw to me that I did to her?

  I hoped she didn’t. It would be easier if she didn’t.

  “Anyway,” Penny said, “I think this lead has fizzled. What do you say we follow yours?”

  “Mine?”

  “All that we have left is the coroner,” Penny said. “Let’s see what he’s up to.”

  I looked down at the dog, and back to Penny. I had nothing better to offer, so I agreed. “Sounds like a plan.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Penny

  He wasn’t the same as everyone else. But neither was I. This pull to him, I knew what it had to be. Instead of flowers, poems, and chocolate, we were leather, blades, and scars. But still, there was no other explanation. I’d found my mate, and he wasn’t a raven. Sometimes I felt like I wasn’t either.

  Even if Axel felt the same connection, even if we could work through our personal crap to fully accept each other, nothing would change at home. My family wouldn’t welcome him the way they did Kaylee’s boyfriend. But why should I expect them to? They didn’t accept me. It was better like this, me away from the constable, me with Axel.

  Stuck in my own head, I nearly missed the single car kicking up dust on the otherwise empty dirt road. The driver was thin, with black hair, and pasty-white skin.

  “That’s the coroner,” Axel said. “Coincidence that he’s out here, or not?” He cocked his brow and smiled just a hint. Damn, it was sexy.

  “Let’s find out,” I said.

  This time when I climbed onto the Harley, I wasn’t nervous. I wrapped my arms tight around Axel, and watched the world race by. Trunks and leaves blended into streaks of brown and green, just beyond the dark strands of my wildly flapping hair.

  His jacket was cool against my cheek, his back hard beneath. I reveled in the closeness, the colors of nature, and the feeling of the seat rumbling beneath me. In that rush, nothing was wrong, no one was broken. I was content to stay just like this forever.

  The bike slowed when we entered town, the strong wind was replaced with a gentle breeze, green and brown replaced with white and silver. My hair settled, and riding felt more like running than flying. Still, I held tight to Axel.

  It was impossible to see around his wide shoulders to what lay ahead, so I watched the buildings pass. Bricks and wood blurred together. Eventually, we slowed to a stop. Axel dropped his feet down to the sides, while the motor still rumbled beneath us. The coroner had to have parked.

  “What’s he doing?” I asked, unable to see anything beyond Axel.

  “He went inside that house,” Axel
said.

  The engine ran and we waited, but the guy stayed inside. After a while, I grew restless.

  “What’s this guy’s name, anyway?” I asked, and climbed off the bike.

  Axel looked at me, turning his attention away from the two-story wooden house for the first time since we’d parked. I stretched my back, rolled my shoulders.

  “Vincent Trench,” Axel said.

  “Sounds villainous,” I replied.

  The corner of his lips turned up in that sexy near-grin.

  I looked over at the building beside us, just far enough away from Trench’s place to not be noticeable, just close enough to keep tabs. And abandoned for years.

  We had waited for hours already. It wouldn’t hurt to get off the bike and surveil from a different angle.

  “Come on,” I said, and grabbed hold of the metal ladder that hung from the side of the old grain and tack warehouse.

  “Up there?” Axel asked, as I climbed.

  “It’s safe,” I said. “And only teenagers hang around here. And that’s after dark, not now.”

  Axel followed without another word.

  The sides of the roof were tall, the part beneath our feet flat. It was the kind of roof that was meant for sitting on, and it was secluded. No one else was around. Even if there had been, no one could see up here from the street. Axel laid his jacket down on the rough floor.

  “Here,” he said, gesturing for me to sit. He sat beside me on the rough cement—a gentleman, a quality I’d never before found charming. From him, it was.

  “So what’s your plan for when all of this is over?” Axel asked.

  Good question. “I haven’t planned that far ahead,” I said.

  “Do you want to go back to work at the shop?” he asked.

  “Not really,” I admitted. “I can’t say that I know what I want. It’s hard to look past what’s here and now, you know?”

  “Yeah,” he said, “I do.”