Shifters in the Shadows: Seventeen Paranormal Romances of Sexy Shifters, Dangerous Vamps, & Things That Go Bump in the Night

by J. K Harper

  The birds squawked and cried, sweeping over the crowd, coming together from every direction and forming one solid black mass that circled above the courtyard. The birds rose in formation and flew away.

  Everyone seemed to take a collective breath. The crowd broke out in cheers, the band struck up a festive tune and a party broke out around Nay.

  She looked around, bewildered.

  Was that it?

  A woman not quite as old as Abuela placed a cup of hot liquid in her hand with a rush of excited Spanish before disappearing into the swirling crowd. Naomi welcomed the warmth on the cold night and took a sip of strong black coffee spiced with what tasted like cinnamon and cayenne pepper. It was strangely pleasant and she carried the cup to the edge of the park where she found a bench to sit.

  The celebration was in full swing around her but Naomi was having a hard time enjoying it. She sat on the bench on the edge of the park and absently watched the people dancing and laughing.

  Something flew toward her, startling her from her thoughts. A large black raven flew over her shoulder and landed beside her on the bench. The bird was carrying something in its beak and it pranced back and forth on the bench as if trying to get her attention.

  "Hi little guy," Naomi cooed softly. The crow hopped closer and bobbed its head. It almost seemed to be asking her to take what appeared to be a small tuft of fur from its beak.

  Naomi watched as it tilted its head curiously to one side, took a step back and then hopped toward her again. This time its wings spread partway as its head thrust the black hair at her insistently. She pulled back. Uneasy with the notion that a giant wild bird seemed so interested in her in the middle of the night. She idly wandered if birds could get rabies.

  The raven dropped the hair on the bench beside her and cawed loudly at her before taking two steps away from her. Then it dipped its head toward the little gift, pushing it toward her with its beak before fixing her with its beady black eyes and making a garbled clicking noise and then lifting itself into the air and disappearing into the night.

  Naomi looked around but no one saw the interchange. She hesitantly reached down and brushed over the small patch of hair with her finger. It was soft and coarse. It looked like it had been pulled off of an animal, just a small knot of shiny black hair almost as dark as the raven that had left it with her.

  A breeze kicked up, rustling the naked tree branches and blowing out several candles and sweeping the raven's offering away. Naomi pulled her shawl around her shoulders and stood up with every intention of heading back to her cottage.

  Abuela had insisted she wear this dress tonight. It was a summer dress. The material was light and breezy with a full skirt that hung just below the knee. The bodice was fitted, or used to be—she hadn't worn the dress since before Logan had been killed. She'd lost a few pounds and the normally snug fitting sweetheart neckline that had always been a favorite of his for the way it showed off her cleavage now left a small gap at the top. Thankfully, the spaghetti straps held it up and overall, it still looked good on her but the nights got chilly at this elevation in the mountains and, even with the finely stitched wool shawl wrapped around her bare shoulders, the cool breeze cut to her bones.

  She watched the party enviously. All the people who were laughing and dancing. Even Abuela was dancing! A tall, handsome man some years younger than her was spinning her around the makeshift dance floor that had formed in front of the band.

  Naomi couldn't remember the last time she'd seen her grandmother look so happy. The twinkle in the old woman's eyes, her face lit up with laughter as she held on to the young man she was dancing with.

  Nay smiled at the sight of her grandmother dancing with the handsome young stranger, but it did nothing to relieve her own sadness.

  It was a beautiful night and the festival was wonderful. Maybe in future years, she would appreciate it better, but it hadn't been long enough. She couldn't sit out here in the dark and pretend to commune with the dead when every cell of her being still ached for Logan.

  Naomi stepped off the curb and into the deserted street. Her footsteps sounding louder on the uneven pavement as she put more distance between her and the party.

  "Did you get a message?"

  The woman's voice sounded familiar. Naomi turned around to see Ana walking fast to catch up to her.

  Naomi shook her head, not sure she entirely understood, "No, I'm sorry. Did you leave a message with the Garcia's for me?"

  Ana laughed despite the tears that were spilling from her eyes. She wiped her cheek with the back of her hand, "No. Not from me, from your husband. Did you get a message that he would be here tonight?"

  Naomi had no idea what Ana was talking about. "I'm … I'm not. I don't…" she shrugged at Ana.

  "Did a raven visit you tonight? At midnight, did one of the ravens bring you something?"

  A shiver ran down Nay's spine, "I'm not sure. A raven landed on the bench next to me and it had a lock of black fur in its beak. It left it on the bench and then flew away."

  Ana's face lit up, her tears drying instantly, "I knew he would come to see you!" She grabbed Naomi by the shoulders and gripped them tightly, "you must look for him!"

  Naomi absorbed the shock as Ana shook her with excitement, "What are you talking about?" she finally managed when the Spanish woman released her.

  "The ravens bring messages from the dead. They bring clues to those who will receive visitors. Think! What did the crow bring you? It's a clue how to recognize him when he arrives."

  "It was nothing. Just a few strands of short, black hair. Like from some sort of animal. The raven was probably just going to build a nest with it," Naomi explained logically.

  Ana's smile had gone stoic and she stood shaking her head at Naomi, "No. Listen to me, ravens do not build nests at midnight on Dia de los Muertos. That tuft of fur was a message. You will not see your husband until you recognize him. The dead come in disguises and they can only reveal themselves once they are known."

  Ana pulled Naomi into an unsolicited hug, "My Alex came as a gecko this time," she whispered in Nay's ear, "but I wasn't fooled. I know my baby too well now. You find your husband," she gave Naomi a final squeeze and stepped back, "find him and make the most of the time you have together. The gates close all too soon."

  Ana turned with a sniffle and new tears shining in her eyes and headed toward the house where she was staying.

  Naomi watched her disappear through her door and then continued back toward her own cottage.

  A gecko. Naomi ran through the woman's words, These people are grieving so hard they are willing to believe anything. She couldn't blame them. The first month after she had been notified of Logan's death, she had gone to see a medium. It hadn't mattered that the gaunt woman with the heavy eyeliner had followed every trick in the parlor game book during her "reading," it had felt so good to believe that her Logan really was there in the room with them, and that he really was communicating with her through that woman.

  She knew better. Deep in her gut, even while she was handing over her credit card to that woman, she knew that it was all a show. The woman had described Logan wrong, she hadn't known his favorite meal, and she was wrong about how Logan had died. But it felt good to think he was watching her and it helped Naomi get through those first few months and she had never regretted the money she spent for that session.

  Nay chalked up the frenzy over the celebrations here as something similar. Just a lot of very sad people who need to believe.

  As she opened the small gate to the little private patio that led to her cottage, movement near the door made her stop in her tracks.

  A soft whimper came from a dark shape on her doorstep and as her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she saw a large dog sitting on the step.

  "Hey buddy," she said softly as she approached the animal cautiously.

  The dog whimpered again and nuzzled her hand as she reached to pet it.

  "You're a big puppy, aren't you?" Nay didn
't even have to bend down to reach the dog's head.

  Opening the door and flicking on the light inside, the dog eagerly made its way inside before she could stop it. In the light of the small cottage she could see the animal more clearly.

  It was one big dog. Solidly built on lanky but sturdy legs, it stood in the big center room with its head hanging low between its shoulders, it's dark eyes fixed on her, it's coat a thick layer of pitch black fur.

  Chapter 5

  Naomi wasn't sure she was allowed to have dogs in the cottage. She also wasn't sure that this was just an ordinary dog. Maybe someone in the area bred wolf hybrids. This guy was definitely part wolf, she had never seen any breed of dog that looked this much like the wolves at the sanctuary she sometimes visited back home.

  This fella was definitely no feral wolf, either. He was clearly domesticated. Calm, well-behaved, beautiful. Like someone brushed him every day. Except for a bald scar running in a line across one of his shoulders and disappearing around to his stomach.

  "You should have stayed outside, the fiesta has lots of treats that you would love and lots of people who would feed you," she rummaged through the small refrigerator for some left overs that Abuela had brought to her last night.

  "Logan had a scar like yours," she continued while her head was still in the fridge, "it was from falling off a barn roof when he was in high school. Tore his shoulder up really bad and he had to have 126 stitches."

  Something had changed. Naomi thought she heard a sound like static electricity discharging in the air. Just a short crackle, like a light bulb burning out.

  She pulled the foil-wrapped leftovers from the fridge and looked back toward the living room expecting to see the big black dog drooling on the tile floor.

  Instead, she turned just in time to see the blur of a man charging toward her.

  The left overs dropped to the ground.

  He had crossed the short space to where she stood by the counter of the tiny kitchenette in no more than 2 wide steps without saying a word.

  She didn't have time to be afraid, even if it had occurred to her that she should be.

  How could she be scared of him? Even in the instant she had to focus on him before he reached her, she recognized him. The scent of his soap and shaving lotion, the way the coarse fabric of his army fatigues rustled with his movements, the intensity in his eyes that never failed to light her blood on fire.

  "Lo—," her voice was a stunned whisper but his name was cut short by the feel of his mouth on hers. Familiar lips pressed against hers, his tongue slipping between her teeth in a greedy kiss.

  Naomi's hands flew up and wrapped around his arms, then slid up his shoulders and around the back of his neck. He was real. He was solid and firm and he was really here. She wanted to say so many things to him, she had so many questions but they would have to wait.

  His hands tangled in her hair, combing through the thick waves and moving down her spine. His hands were warm and strong, pressing against her back so that she was pinned against him.

  She could feel the hard lines of his body against hers, his heat and the bulge of his desire as he pulled her into his arms and carried her into the bedroom.

  He finally allowed his mouth to leave hers as he dropped her lightly on the bed.

  “Logan!” She said breathlessly, still dizzy from the kiss and the surprise of his appearance, “What…? How…? Wh—? How? How are you here?” She asked as his hands slid up her thighs, pushing the soft cotton skirt up around her waist.

  “Shh, not now,” his voice was a strangled plea between the hot kisses he was trailing over every inch of exposed skin, “I just want to touch you, taste you.” His hands gripped her thighs, his mouth heading down to meet his thumb where it had found her panties.

  She felt his breath against her, hot and moist as he removed the satin barrier that stood between him and her flesh. Naomi gasped at his touch. She hadn't felt a man against her skin since their last goodbye nearly 2 years ago. Now her nerves lit up with the memory of what it felt like to be aroused.

  Her hands twisted in the bedsheets as the tip of Logan's tongue drew along the seam of her sex. Her knees rose and her heels dug into the mattress, rising her off the bed to grind against his tongue as it drew delicate circles around her clit.

  Naomi moaned and dragged the fisted sheets closer to her head.

  Logan's breathing sped up with his movements, his anticipation of her climax apparent in his movements.

  She felt a vaguely familiar sensation, something she hadn't felt for a long time, her senses exploding with overload as she gave in to the waves of pleasure washing over her and finally sending her tumbling out of control.

  Naomi opened her eyes and stared up at the thick wood beams running along the ceiling. She could feel her heart beat strong and fast as she caught her breath. She hadn't had an orgasm since she'd gotten notice of Logan's death.

  Logan's death.

  Naomi began to sit up, suddenly remembering how impossible it was that he was here. She had a million questions, she had a million apologies, and a million updates, and another million questions. She knew she had to be dreaming, all the excitement about Day of the Dead and the villagers and tourists from all over the world going on and on for the last two days about lost loved ones coming to visit. It was obvious it had gotten into her brain and was affecting her dreams.

  Logan's tongue ran gently over her sensitive nub and down though her folds. A soft, lazy touch that felt warm and wonderful.

  Naomi thought back on the nights—and days—of passion they'd shared before he'd been called away. No man had ever touched her the way Logan did. Her body or her heart. He knew every inch of her flesh and he reveled in it, making her feel like a goddess.

  Dream or not, tonight would be no different. Logan's finger traced the outline of her opening and Naomi let her body fall back against the cool sheets. If this was a dream, she didn't want to wake up.

  “Damn, I missed you, baby,” Logan's voice was low and thick with lust as he pushed his finger through the tightness of her body, “I missed the way you squirm when you come on my tongue.”

  The sound of his voice sent a thrill though her, she gasped at the depth his finger reached before feeling the way he stroked inside her walls. Another moan escaped her lungs and she reached for him with her hand.

  “You sure, baby? You sure you're ready for my cock? You don't want me to make you come with my hand first?”

  Nay was reluctant to speak for fear the sound of her own voice would break the spell and she would wake to find herself alone—and deeply frustrated.

  She pulled at his shoulder with one hand, begging him upward so she could face him. She needed to see his face, needed to watch the cloudy look his eyes took on when he was lost in pleasuring her.

  But this was Logan. He loved her pleasure, feeling her body respond to him. He moved his finger inside her again, slipping it deeper and then pulling it back out before adding a second and moving them back into her together.

  He laughed, that short little sound he always made when he knew he had her on edge like this. The sound of his satisfaction with the way her body moved beneath him, begging him to make her come again.

  “Logan,” she murmured as he deepened his reach and quickened his strokes, “Logan, please.”

  “Please what, baby? Make you come again? Watch your pretty face as you come all over my hand? OK.”

  His words were maddening.

  “Oh God, Logan!” She felt her body tightening around his fingers, felt his body fall heavily onto the bed beside her, his lips landing on her stomach and moving over her ribs till they locked onto her hardened nipple while his hand continued to work inside her, his thumb softly brushing over her clit.

  He knew her body so well.

  Her hands flew to grasp his shoulders and neck as she bucked against his hand in another explosion, still calling his name.

  “That's a good girl,” he praised her with a series of soft
bites that seared across her body as his fingers slid from her slickness, “you have no idea how much I've missed you,” he was finally facing her, his eyes dark with emotion and arousal. His lips touched hers softly with a tender kiss.

  “Logan? Is this real? How can this be happening?” She tried to fit her questions in between his kisses even though it was obvious he had no intention of answering her just yet.

  Most of his clothes had been shed already, leaving a puddle of desert camouflage on the floor beside the bed. She ran her hand over his chest, taking time to memorize the feel of each contour, the warmth of his skin, the hair that speckled his pecs and curled around his taut nipples. His eyes closed and he drew in his breath sharply as her fingers brushed over first one and then the other before tracing the trail down along his well-defined abs and then lower.

  He felt so familiar, as if it had only been yesterday that they had been together last, yet he also felt different. It was like discovering his body all over again. He felt firmer, stronger, his chest slightly broader, his stomach slightly tighter.

  Her hand reached the patch of thick hair at the base of the trail. She smiled, watching his face as her finger lightly ran up the underside of his shaft. His jaw tightened in anticipation of her full touch.

  She wrapped her hand around the base and slid it up the full length of him. He let the air out of his lungs in one long, controlled breath.

  Naomi let her fingers squeeze gently, her fingertips running lightly over the sensitive head. She wanted to take her time. She wanted to touch him forever. She wanted to kneel between his thighs and taste him one more time. But Logan's patience was up.

  With one quick movement she found herself on her back, her thighs forced wide as Logan positioned himself between them and slid inside her in one quick thrust that stole her breath. Her arms wrapped under his and clung to his back as he entered her, sending a shock barreling though her as he filled her.