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

by J. K Harper

  If the general made a fuss about the things she was taking, she'd just have to sweet talk him again.

  As she reached for some bags of saline fluid, she heard one more noise.

  It was a low rumble. Like a man's satisfied sigh.

  She froze. Her fingertips prickled, as her claws prepared to burst out.

  "Who's there?"

  If it was an insurgent, he or she might not even speak English. She called out the same question in the local language.

  Nothing. The tent was silent again.

  How was it she couldn't smell anyone or anything in there? Or see where they were?

  "Come out now before I get really pissed," she growled.

  She held off her tiger's desperate urge to shift, even though the animal was roaring inside. If she shifted now, she'd ruin her clothes. Not good when she was about to work a twelve-hour shift patching up bomb victims. She never brought a spare set with her, like an idiot.

  Then again, she never expected to shift while on duty.

  Right in front of her, one of the shelving units seemed to shimmer. What the hell?

  She stared at it, not sure what she was seeing.

  The outline of a man appeared. And it sure as hell wasn't Milo.

  "What the actual..."

  She gasped as the man became fully solid, right in front of her.

  "Apologies," he said.

  Steal

  His accent was strange. European?

  "Holy shit." Isabel caught her breath. "Did you just teleport in here or what?"

  She looked him up and down. Hot damn, this freaky dude was stunning. Her heart beat faster, just looking at him.

  He had dark shoulder-length hair and cheekbones that could break boulders. Tall and lean, but still muscular, he loomed over her. And she was pretty tall, so he must've been six foot four? Six foot five?

  His eyes were a strange dark gray color she'd never seen before. She felt like she was dissolving into them.

  He was absolutely fucking beautiful. And it was like she'd been hit by a tranquilizer dart.

  Why? Why were his good looks so potent? She couldn't understand it. Her lust for this guy was immediate.

  On the other hand, he was in her damn way. That was a problem.

  "You're a shifter," he announced, in his unusual accent. It wasn't a question. "Something fierce."

  "Right. And you are?"

  He smiled lazily. "Let me guess. You're a squirrel?"

  Isabel clenched her fists. "Hilarious."

  She wished she weren't so instantly attracted to him. What was it with this prick?

  "Sorry. I'm joking. You're a big cat. I can see that much."

  "And I said what are you?" She felt the low roar building in her chest. If he didn't answer her, she might just shift and make him.

  As she asked the question, she noticed a pile of dark crumpled plastic around his feet. What was all over the floor?

  Isabel peered in for a closer look. "Is that—"

  She stared.

  The realization hit her hard. "That's not—"

  He cut in. "I can explain."

  All around him lay discarded blood bags. Her hospital blood bags.

  And they were empty.

  She looked up at his face again. His tongue darted to the corner of his mouth.

  He'd been drinking from her blood supplies.

  "You're a motherfucking vampire?"

  With a snarl, she allowed her claws to spring forth from her fingertips.

  He shrugged, obviously not at all scared of her. "Look, I didn't want to do this. Believe me."

  "You stole my blood supplies? You monster!"

  "It was a necessary evil."

  "Necessary?" She held back the roar building inside, because she didn't want to alarm Jerry over in the other tent. "Some people injured in combat will die without transfusions. Soldiers. Civilians. Kids. You're okay with that?"

  "No. I'm not."

  She felt the markings of her tiger fur flash across her face.

  "You think it's okay to take blood from the veins of local volunteers, then use it to feed your sick appetites?"

  "You're not aware of all the facts here—"

  "You undead assholes disgust me. No morals. No conscience. You just do what you want, and damn the rest of us."

  "That's not even—"

  Isabel wouldn't normally bulldoze someone in an argument, but fuck him. He was writing his own warrant here. She'd do what she had to do.

  "Why are you even bothering to argue back? Shouldn't you just turn into a bat and skip town?"

  "Look, I'm sorry I took your blood supply. But believe me, it was the best thing for everyone."

  "What? What did you just say?"

  The rage in her stomach told Isabel that shifting now was inevitable.

  She'd find some spare clothes afterward. This bastard needed to be taught a lesson.

  Her tiger sprang out and took over her body. He watched with fearless interest as she transformed.

  Skin became fur, and fingers became claws.

  With a growl, she leaped at the blood-stealing jerk and reared up at him, putting a paw on each shoulder and shoving him with all her weight.

  She was strong, and he didn't resist.

  He slammed back against the shelves, rattling all the metal instruments in their trays. Boxes of Band-Aids and slings for broken limbs tumbled down around him.

  "Wow. You're a stunning animal," he murmured.

  Up close, the angled gorgeousness of his face was even better. His storm-gray eyes mesmerized her for a second.

  Right then and there, she wanted nothing more than to shift back into her human form.

  Of course, she'd be naked.

  All the better to jump his bones.

  What? What the what?

  Her own thoughts horrified her.

  What the hell was it with this lowlife? She ought to rip his head off. And here she was, fantasizing about ripping his clothes off.

  Something was seriously wrong with this situation. She had no idea what.

  It was time she showed this asshole who was in charge.

  * * *

  She roared with all her might. He raised his eyebrows and smiled slightly, as though he was impressed.

  Before she could swipe him to the floor with her paw, she heard a clamor of voices.

  Yelling.

  Calling for the doctor.

  Aw, shit. She was going to have to shift back and go help them.

  This maniac would have to wait.

  With a flash, she returned to her human form. The vampire's eyes ran up and down her suddenly nude body, seeming to appraise her bare flesh.

  "You're a great beauty."

  "Fuck you." She shielded her breasts with one arm. "Give me your shirt."

  "Excuse me?"

  "Shirt. Now."

  He looked astounded, but he took it off. As he unbuttoned it, his eyes glided up and down her exposed figure. He was seriously checking her out.

  Why was that totally hot? How could it be hot?

  Vampires were undead, for crying out loud. Who wants to screw an undead guy?

  Although, for an undead guy, he had an incredible set of abs.

  "Hurry up," she yelled. "I need to get back in there."

  She shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot, embarrassed to realize how turned on she was by his attention. Her nipples were hard as bullets, and the vampire hadn't taken his eyes off her for a second.

  Okay, maybe she was just sex-starved. It had been a while. Yeah, that must be it.

  At last, he tossed her his shirt. She threw it on and buttoned it at top speed.

  The shirt was some long fancy old-fashioned thing, and it almost hit her knees. It'd work as a dress, until she had time to grab some more of her cotton work pants. No panties, but she was saving lives, not walking the runway. Nobody would notice.

  He watched her as she adjusted her borrowed outfit. A half-smile lit up his face.


  "Great. I gotta go." She smoothed the shirt over her hips.

  He gave her one last up-and-down gaze, with a hungry look on his face. "That's a shame."

  She scowled. She wasn't going to be his midnight feast, that was for damn sure.

  "Get the fuck out of this camp before I call the army. And if you touch my equipment again, I'll make you wish you'd never been sired."

  "Too late for that," he called, but she was already out of there.

  Help

  Isabel ran back to the medical tent, white shirt tails flapping around her thighs.

  She was going to have to fix the no-panties thing though. It annoyed her to notice she was wet from her weird encounter with that monster.

  How could she be aroused by a bloodsucking freak? It made no sense.

  She'd have to research vampires when she next got into the city. Her internet access was too patchy out here. Maybe vampires threw out some kind of hypnotic magic to make a person fall for them? That'd explain why people just offered up their necks like fools.

  Stupid vampires. Evil bloodsucking scum.

  She burst into the medical tent through the back door. Two fully human men were holding another on a stretcher.

  "Put the patient down on this bed right here," she called out. She grabbed her stethoscope and thin flashlight.

  As she shined the light onto the patient's face, she gasped.

  Oh my God.

  It was Jerry. Her nurse was lying there, unconscious.

  Worst of all, his right leg was ripped open. The wound was bleeding fast.

  "Jerry? Can you hear me?" Isabel's heart pounded like machine gun fire. She staunched the bleeding with her hand while she looked around for something to tie around it.

  "We think he stepped on a..." One of the men was struggling with his English. "Bomb? Piece of bomb? Not yet exploded." He pointed to Jerry's bleeding leg. "Then yes, exploded."

  The other man said nothing. He just stared down at Jerry with a shocked expression.

  "He come to help. We shout and he come. And boom. He hurt."

  "Okay, thanks guys," Isabel said. "I appreciate your help. Please stand back while I deal with this."

  They obeyed immediately. The shocked looking man stumbled out of the tent, and Isabel heard him throwing up outside.

  It was lucky Jerry was unconscious. The pain from that leg wound would be sharp.

  "Do you want to go outside and check if your friend's okay?" Isabel said. She was going to have to perform some kind of solo surgery, and she knew most humans wouldn't be eager to watch.

  "Yes, I go now," he agreed, looking pale.

  Isabel tied up Jerry's leg wound with a pad and a length of tubing. That gave her time to gather her suture equipment. Not long, though. She needed to be quick.

  Shit. She had left the box of equipment in the supplies building. The goddamn vampire had distracted her.

  And she couldn't leave Jerry on the bed bleeding out.

  Before she had a second to think, she felt a cool breeze on the back of her neck.

  She spun around and came face-to-face with the vampire. He held her box of supplies in front of him.

  "Sheesh, you scared me. Give me that."

  She set the box down on the flimsy table and ran to the portable sink to scrub her hands. She would need a surgical mask and gown too.

  "You're about to operate on this man? Alone?"

  The vampire's European-tinged accent was deep and smooth. She hated the way it sent a tingle through her bones.

  "I don't have a lot of choice. He'll die if I don't."

  She didn't like the gleam in the vampire's eye as he looked over Jerry's wound.

  "Don't get any ideas, Fangboy. You taste one drop of this man's blood and I will shred you like a lettuce."

  He laughed uproariously, like it was a great joke. "No, no. I mean do you need some help here?"

  "Excuse me?"

  Isabel pulled on her surgical overalls and mask. At least she wasn't just wearing a shirt and nothing else now. Then she washed her hands again and pulled on a pair of latex gloves.

  He leaned on the edge of the gurney, like he didn't have a care in the world. "You charity medics usually work in pairs. No? And you seem to be alone. I wondered if you wanted help."

  Isabel snorted. "Help. From a vampire. You want to help me with a bleeding wound. Right."

  "I am not suggesting sampling the patient. Plus, I've already eaten, as you know."

  "I thought you people had insatiable appetites. You think you can control yourself?"

  Isabel checked Jerry's vital signs again. His pulse was weak. There was no time to lose.

  "I'm a master of self-control."

  "Try telling that to the patients who need my blood supplies."

  "I apologize. But believe me, if I had not..."

  "Shut up, and scrub up."

  He washed his hands thoroughly, as he must have seen her doing. Then he put on some gloves.

  "You're not clean to sterile operating room standards, but we're doing what we can here. You can assist." Isabel could hardly believe she was agreeing to this, but it was that or do the whole thing herself. "Pass me that clear bag of fluid and that coil of clear tubing. The one wrapped in plastic."

  "You're hooking up an IV?"

  "Ooh, the evil vamp has surgical knowledge." She swabbed Jerry's hand, then fixed up the cannula in his hand. "Yes, I'm making sure he stays hydrated. How'd you know?"

  "You pick up scraps of information when you've been alive a long time."

  He sounded mournful. She didn't have time to care.

  A shot of painkillers would keep Jerry calm if he woke up. She squeezed the syringe into the cannula.

  That should cover him in case he woke up while she was removing the fragments of metal from his leg.

  "Okay, now we do the most rough and ready surgery of my career. I need to keep this leg wound as clean as possible. Grab the antiseptic fluid, and one of those plastic-wrapped bowls. Don't even think about touching this patient. I can and will kill you."

  "Understood." He looked amused, rather than scared. She chose to ignore it.

  He made a pretty good assistant, considering he was a bloodsucking fiend.

  When she'd cleaned Jerry's leg wound and made sure there was nothing contaminating it, she removed the shrapnel from inside it. She had to make some incisions, and she just hoped Jerry stayed under. She couldn't set up a general anesthetic alone, so this was as good as it got.

  Once she had tidied up the wound, she demanded the suture equipment. The vampire placed it carefully on the table beside her.

  She tried her best not to check out his half-naked body.

  "So I guess I should ask your name, doctor?"

  She sewed one neat stitch. "Isabel Prowse, MD."

  "Dr. Prowse. It's an honor to meet you. Have you worked here long?"

  "Almost six months. I'll be flying home soon. All Shifter Medics International assignments are six months long. You don't get to stay a second longer, even if—"

  "Even if you have nothing to go home to?"

  She sewed another stitch, ignoring the stealthy question. His voice was giving her goosebumps. For the love of God, why?

  "And who are you? Other than a blood thief and dead guy."

  "Undead. I'm Duke Louis de l'Anceny of Versailles."

  "Excuse me?"

  "Call me Louis."

  Isabel closed off the wound and set down the needle.

  "You're French?"

  "Indeed."

  "From, like, centuries ago?"

  He smiled, making Isabel's stomach flutter.

  "Let's just say I'm a little older than the guys you normally date."

  "This isn't a date, bucko. How old were you when you were sired?"

  "Thirty-four. And so I'm eternally thirty-four."

  "How lovely." The sarcasm dripped off Isabel. "So all you have to do is drink innocent people's blood, and you get to be pretty forever."

 
"Believe me, I would not have agreed to be turned if I had known what it would be like."

  His face darkened.

  "Who sired you?"

  "A viscount's mistress in Paris. She was called Antoinette. I had just lost my entire family in the French Revolution. Things were getting difficult back there."

  "Wow. You're..." Isabel tried to remember her school history class. "That was the late 1700s, right? You're really ... like, two hundred and fifty years old?"

  "Two hundred and sixty-one years old. Yes." He grinned. "You're a little younger, I'm guessing?"

  "Thirty-two. Shit."

  "It sounds strange to a mortal, I know."

  They looked at each other for a while. Isabel had the oddest fluttery feeling in her stomach.

  "Is there some reason why..." She faltered. "Do we know each other somehow?"

  He gazed into her eyes with his own deep gray ones. His voice dropped to a low murmur. "It feels like that, doesn't it?"

  The world seemed to stop for a second as they stared at each other.

  But the moment didn't last.

  With an ear-splitting crack, a second round of bombs dropped nearby.

  Isabel ran to the tent door. "We need to clear this space and get ready for the next set of patients. It won't be long before people start coming through here. You'd better get going, Louis. Leave before there's too much temptation all around."

  "You need my help. You have no nurse. I'm staying."

  How could she trust him? And yet what choice did she have?

  "If you so much as taste one of my patients, you'll be sorry."

  "I told you. I've eaten already."

  She sighed. What was she doing?

  "Buckle up then, Duke. It's going to be a bumpy ride."

  Talk

  By the time dawn broke, they had a full tent of patients.

  They'd patched up everyone. They hadn't lost anyone.

  By dawn, all of their patients were sleeping soundly, in neat rows.

  Louis had been a great help, Isabel admitted to herself. When they'd run out of beds. Louis had rigged up a couple more by sneaking spare mattress rolls from the supplies building.

  He yawned and stretched his long limbs. "When does the day shift take over?"

  Isabel checked the clock on the tent wall. "In an hour. There will be two of them, so it should be easier. And all these guys will be transferred to the city hospital. The army moves them all in daylight, as long as there's a clear route into the city."