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

by J. K Harper

  She felt him moving inside her, stretching her walls to make room for his size before finally bottoming out deep in her core. He waited for her to adjust, the cords of his neck standing out with the tension of his self restraint before pulling back and thrusting deeply again. And again. And again.

  Naomi caught her breath and matched his rhythm, desperate to pull him as deeply into her body as possible. She wanted to keep this moment forever. She wanted to hear his breath hard and labored in her ear and feel his release as he filled her with hot, sticky seed.

  She wanted to fuck him fast and hard and dirty and she wanted to make soft, tender love to him. She wanted to sit up all night laughing and talking and make popcorn and watch bad horror movies on late night TV and then she wanted to start all over again.

  Something told her she had to make the best of their time together.

  Logan was whispering hoarsely in her ear. Telling her how much he loved the way her pussy felt as it clenched around his cock, how much he missed being inside her, how much he loved making her come.

  Oh how she'd missed his dirty mouth!

  She could feel the edges of reality slipping away around her again as their rhythm sped up. She knew he was close, she could feel the change in his energy, the urgency as his strokes increased in speed and intensity.

  She wanted to wait for him, to feel him burst inside her but it was too late. He had her spiraling out of control again.

  As she drifted back down from the climax, she felt his body still suddenly inside hers. She heard him groan against her neck as he pushed to the very limits of her body and erupted deep inside her. She could feel the pressure and the heat of his seed as it poured deeply into her womb until he collapsed against her.

  Naomi listened to the sound of his breathing as it faded from the heavy panting of sex to the soft sounds of sleep as he curled around her, trapping her in his arms.

  She inhaled deeply, trying to brand his scent on the inside of her lungs. Running her hand along his arm, over the dips and bulges of his muscles, across his shoulder till she could feel the bristle of his buzzed hair, Naomi closed her eyes and waited to wake up.

  Chapter 6

  A soft sensation pulled her from her nap. Naomi's eyes fluttered open reluctantly. The dream of Logan had been so nice. She'd had so few good dreams since he'd been gone and she didn't want to wake up and have to admit it was just a dream.

  "Hey sleepyhead," her eyes were blurry and it was hard to make out the face, but his voice was unmistakable. She blinked a few times till her vision cleared and was stunned to find Logan propped up on his elbow on the bed beside her, smiling down at her as he lazily drew circles on her bare midriff with one finger.

  Now she couldn't tell if she was awake or dreaming still.

  "I love watching you sleep," he said, "but I don't have much time."

  Nay turned her head to see that the sky outside the window was still pitch black, the clock on the nightstand claimed it was only 2:37 in the morning.

  "Logan?" Her voice was a mix of hope and disbelief. "Is it really you? Are you really here?" Her hand flew to his face, feeling the stubble on his chin, the firm line of his jaw, the supple skin of his lips as he kissed her fingers.

  "Now appearing for one night only," he joked in the easy manner that had convinced her to go on that first date, "and I have so much to say to you, baby," his voice went low and serious, "but like I said, I don't get much time here and I want to spend as much of it inside you as possible."

  His grin was all mischief as he pulled the warm quilt from her body and began to lavish her with kisses again.

  * * *

  "So you're really here?" Naomi stood in the little kitchenette, slowly stirring milk in a pan as it heated on the small stove. Blocks of dark chocolate lay on the counter, waiting to be melted in as soon as the temperature was right.

  His hand pinching her bare bottom under the t-shirt she wore told her he was real enough.

  Logan dropped a kiss on the top of her head and stepped back to let her finish making the hot chocolate.

  "Just for a little while, Babe," his mouth smiled but his eyes were sad, "It's Dia de los Muertos. Tomorrow night I have to go back."

  "So the day of the dead is real? You really get to come back to visit once a year?" Naomi was pretty sure she was still dreaming.

  "Not everyone. Not everywhere." Logan took a mug of the rich cocoa and sipped it without regard to how hot it was. "There are very few places on the planet where visiting souls are able to manifest completely," he explained, "in most areas, the dead are allowed to visit, but they can't make themselves known. You just have to take it on faith."

  Naomi decided this was the weirdest dream she'd ever had. It must have been too much talk about the celebrations and all the people talking about who they were here to see.

  Suddenly she remembered the stray dog that she had left waiting in the little living room. Where had he gone? A quick glance revealed the doors and windows still shut against the cold night air, but no sign of her new friend.

  "Nay," Logan seemed to know what she was looking for, "It was me."

  Naomi glanced back at him with a question on her lips.

  "The wolf. You're looking for the wolf, right?" He answered before she could speak. "The wolf is my mask. It's how I'm allowed to move into the world of the living, in disguise. I can only shift into the human you remember once you recognize me in my animal form."

  Her mug of cocoa was forgotten, cooling on the table between them. Naomi was slowly starting to suspect she wasn't dreaming after all.

  "You're a werewolf?" Her voice sounded confused and slightly suspicious as she drew her knees up to her chest, bracing her heels on the edge of the chair she was sitting on.

  The nights got downright cold in Veranoches and her small cottage was better equipped for spending them snuggled under thick quilts in the bed. It didn't help that she was wearing nothing but Logan's t-shirt that she had picked up from the floor next to the bed.

  His eyes sparkled as he laughed, "I hadn't thought of it that way. I guess you could say werewolf."

  Naomi frowned, her eyes clouding as she struggled to understand their conversation. "Isn't that a bad thing? Like, a punishment for something evil you did while you were ali—here?" She had to change her wording. Acknowledging that he was dead caused a creepy shiver to tickle her spine. She could handle fucking a memory in a dream, but not a ghost. But what about a werewolf?

  Logan set his empty mug on the table and reached for her hands, holding them tightly and making eye contact so intense it felt like he could see through her, "No, Nay, that's not how it works. Not at all. At least, not from what I've seen."

  He led her to the living room and pulled her down on the sofa with him, wrapping her in his arms so her head was against his chest where she could hear his heart beating.

  She couldn't help but wonder if that was a sign that this was a dream. Would his heart still beat if he was a ghost?

  "The other side is good. It's like it is here only—better. Like if this world had its shit together. I work, helping lead souls across. Making sure they get there safely."

  "So you're like a grim reaper?" Nay asked without moving her head.

  She loved the deep rumble in his chest as he laughed.

  "No. Not at all. I have nothing to do with collecting souls. It's my job to meet them as they pass through and guide them to where they need to go. Because I was a soldier on this side—a warrior—I was chosen for this job. Because there are things that try to lead the new souls astray." His voice became dark, tinged with anger and fear, "That's why there must be someone there to meet them. To protect them and lead them. That's my job.

  "Being given the wolf is a great honor. Not everyone receives an animal mask so that they can travel back and a wolf is a strong animal fit for my work."

  His lips were laying sweet kisses on the top of her head, his finger combing through her tangled hair and trailing down her back.


  Naomi wasn't sure how she felt about what he was telling her, but she knew she had precious little time with him and that his touch reminded her what it felt like to be a woman in love.

  The rest of her questions could wait till later. Hell, they could wait forever. All she wanted was to make the most of their time together.

  She raised her head till his lips found hers again and she surrendered herself to this wonderful delusion she was having.

  Chapter 7

  They had spent the rest of their time making love. Slow and gently, hard and fast, dozing between sessions. Talking, remembering, laughing, and eating. Logan said that the traditions of offering food to the dead was one that was greatly appreciated on the other side. Like sex and the company of family, it was something uniquely special about the world of the living. Logan said it was like going on vacation—it wasn't that regular life was bad, it was just that vacation was special.

  He had explained as best he could, answering all her questions and promising her that he was OK even though he missed her with an agony that she knew only too well.

  As the church bell began to toll the midnight hour on the last day of the festival, Naomi broke down in sobs as she desperately clung to Logan, pleading with him not to leave her again. Logan had held her tightly, as if he was trying to anchor himself in this world by holding on to her.

  It didn't matter. By the eleventh peel, Logan had kissed her deeply one last time and then turned back into the wolf before bounding back out of the little cottage. Leaving Naomi behind again.

  * * *

  She moved back and forth across the cottage, carefully folding clothes and packing away her toothbrush and shampoo. Her body numbly went through the motions but her mind was far away, still working through her experience.

  The memory of her grandmother dancing with the handsome younger man flashed in her mind's eye. It suddenly dawned on her that the young man spinning Abuelita around the dance floor bore a striking resemblance to the pictures of Grandpa that were still scattered around her grandmother's house.

  Now she knew why Abuela came to all the way to Veranoches every year for Dia de los Muertos. Why her grandmother had insisted on separate quarters and why she had rented the little house for Naomi.

  * * *

  The long drive back to Texas was quiet. Each of them lost in their own thoughts until Naomi finally had to ask.

  "Abuelita," she began thoughtfully, "was that—"

  Her grandmother's harsh clucking noises stopped her.

  "It's very bad luck to speak of the magic outside of Veranoches," the older woman's voice was stern but also laced with a panic that betrayed how serious she took the superstition.

  Naomi understood. If it meant that Logan wouldn't be allowed to visit again, it would destroy her. She could only imagine how her grandmother must feel. She decided not to ask any more questions.

  "But he did come, didn't he, Mija?" Her grandmother whispered, "it was worth the drive, yes?"

  Nay nodded silently, a smile pulling her lips up at the corners.

  Her grandmother reached across and patted her knee, "Good, good. Now you understand why I go."

  "How did you find out about Veranoches?" Naomi hoped it was a safe question.

  "I met a woman on a cruise several years ago. She was so excited about the Dia de los Muertos celebrations in some tiny little town that I couldn't even find on a map. I thought it was odd that she loved this one place so much even though she was Dutch and had no ties to the place at all. But she had lost her son in an accident when he was only 6 years old. She refused to tell me any more, but when she found out about your abuelo, she insisted that I come to Veranoches with her."

  "And you've been going ever since," Naomi finished for her.

  "And now you will also, I think?" Abuela questioned.

  "I think so." Naomi smiled. For the first time in over a year, she could believe there was a future. Like she could survive as long as she knew she would see him again, even if it was only one day a year.

  "Noemi," her grandmother said in a cautious voice, "do not forget how young you are. I don't want to see you stop living your life. And neither would Logan."

  Noami turned into Abuela's driveway and parked the car. Neither of them moved.

  "What do you mean?" she finally asked, fearing the answer.

  "I've seen others at the celebrations, people who do not receive a message from the crows. People who wait all night alone. Not because they do not recognize their guest, but because they had been warned previously that it was time to move on."

  Naomi's stomach turned and her heart clenched. The thought that Logan would tell her he wasn't coming back again, that she was supposed to move on. What does that even mean? That she was supposed to meet someone else? Fall in love again? Go on like Logan was just some ex-boyfriend from high school that she's "totally over" now?

  The thought sickened her. The nausea must have shown on her face because Abuela began backtracking in a hurry, "When you are ready, Mija, she said reassuringly, not until you are ready. Your Logan loved you with his whole heart, he would never leave you until you are ready."

  With a kiss on Naomi's cheek and squeeze of her hand, Abuela got out of the car and pulled her small suitcase from the back seat.

  Naomi watched her grandmother till she was safely inside her door and then backed out of the drive way and found her way home.

  Chapter 8

  The nauseous feeling never went away.

  Naomi's mood had lightened, she found herself looking forward to the days as they ticked by, knowing each one brought her closer to her next visit with Logan. For the first time since his death, life had hope again.

  But despite feeling happier overall, she woke up each morning feeling queasy. With each passing day, it got worse until a few weeks after returning home from Veranoches, she was starting each day with a trip to the bathroom to puke up whatever she'd last eaten.

  She was tired too. Exhausted. Even though she woke up feeling rested, by lunch time she had to take time for a nap or she'd end up asleep at her desk by late afternoon.

  Finally, she made an appointment to see a doctor, fearing that she might have picked up some kind of bug or even a parasite in Mexico.

  The news was not what she expected.

  "But … that's not possible!"

  Naomi stared at the doctor like the woman had told her she was part alien.

  "Have you had sexual intercourse in the last thirty days?" The doctor was a pleasant woman that looked to be in her early forties, her hair a combination of blonde and gray pulled back in a ponytail, the amusement in her eyes not hidden behind her trendy glasses frames.

  Naomi opened her mouth but the emphatic "no" that she'd intended died on her lips.

  Hadn't she?

  How was she supposed to explain her trip to Mexico to this woman of science? How was she supposed to tell her about Logan's visit during Dia de los Muertos? About nearly twenty-four hours of making love to him? Of course she wasn't on the pill, she'd been widow for over a year. It certainly wasn't like either of them had brought condoms!

  Not only did she not think this doctor would be open minded to her story, she didn't dare mention it for fear of destroying her chances to see him again.

  She nodded dumbly at the physician and accepted the pamphlets she was handed about pregnancy and prenatal care while the doctor yattered on about prenatal vitamins, preliminary due dates, sonograms, and when she should come back for her next exam.

  Half an hour later Naomi sat in her car, absently placing her appointment card in her wallet while she wondered how this could be possible.

  "Did you hear that, Logan?" She had always spoken to him like he could hear her and after Veranoches, she knew he was listening, "You're going to be a daddy."

  Her voice broke on the word and tears flowed freely down her cheeks. Her hand went over her abdomen, "A baby, Logan, just like we always planned," she whispered. "I wish you were here," she
sobbed.

  She was startled by the sound of something falling on the roof of the car. A firm tapping sound, followed by something rolling overhead. She looked up to see a small object roll down the windshield. It stopped, wedged against the windshield wiper.

  Naomi leaned forward, trying to identify the object but jumped when a raven landed on the hood of her car.

  The bird reached for the thing with its beak and then seemed to see her watching it from behind the windshield. It held still, tilting its head to study her before grabbing the little chunk of plastic and holding it in its beak right where she could see it.

  It was a Lego man. The boxy little figure was dressed in a painted tuxedo but its head was on backward, showing only black plastic hair where his little painted face should have been.

  The raven tapped the figure against the windshield as though it was trying to throw it at her and then both bird and groom flew away.

  Naomi watched them go before pulling herself together and heading home.

  * * *

  She'd managed to avoid having to travel back east for Thanksgiving with her parents. Abuela was her only family left in Texas and Abuela was off on another cruise this year. That left her alone with her secret till Christmas when she'd promised to visit.

  A gust of wind blew in from the back door that she had left ajar. Even at only a few weeks in, Naomi was running hot. Nighttime temperatures were getting into the mid 50s and the cool air at night felt good as it blew through the main room of the house.

  "What am I supposed to do?" She asked aloud. She'd always had a habit of talking to Logan when he wasn't there, even before his death. "I can't hide the baby forever, how am I supposed to explain how I got pregnant?"

  "You just tell them the truth," a deep voice tinged with humor came from the open doorway, "you met an irresistible man in Mexico who stole your heart and you had a torrid one night stand with him."