The gunfire bark of a two-way spilled through the doorway and filtered down the hall.
I slipped the drug into my pocket, bent, and lowered the shotgun to the floor as the first officer rushed in, gun drawn, muzzle sweeping the room before he took in the bloodbath.
“‘Bout damn time you guys decided to turn up,” I growled as Sergeant Mc Fucking Douchebag himself stepped through the doorway. “Thought I was gonna have to make my own damn coffee.”
The young constable paled at the sight of the arms and legs.
“Yeah, no torsos…” I motioned toward the salt circle and the pile of ash. “Demon had one hell of an appetite.”
The constable swallowed, and then swallowed again. Throat muscles worked overtime as he lowered his gun and retched.
“Don’t lower your gun! She could be the damn assailant for all we know!”
“Jeffries,” I sighed, shook my head, and opened my hands. “Are we really going to do this again?”
Sergeant Alexander Jeffries took a step toward me and curled his top lip. “This is a one-eighty-seven in progress and you are a person of interest.”
I raised my head, meeting his hateful stare head-on. “In about a hundred damn cases, according to you. When are you going to play by the rules? Any paranormal offense is called into The Circle first. We deal with the bad guys, so you humans can sweep in and take all the credit—remember?”
“We humans?” Jeffries snarled. “Nice to see you’re finally aligning yourself with the freaks, Payne.”
Freaks? The bastard was trying to get under my skin. I swallowed the words on the tip of my tongue and straightened my shoulders.
The act said more than I ever could. Go your hardest, smug piece of shit. Jeffries straightened, and then reached for the handcuffs as the thunder of boots consumed the room.
“Jeffries!” A male called out.
“Here!” He barked, glanced over his shoulder at the uniform and jerked his head toward the heaving Constable. “Take Smith and search the rest of the damn house, while I cuff this bitch.”
His grip was cruel, crushing my hand as he snapped one cuff around my wrist and then spun me around for the other.
I made no move to fight, only watched as young and stupid invaded the room and trampled the salt circle.
After all these years, you’d think they’d try to protect themselves from beings like me.
“Kitchen clear!” one officer yelled.
“Right rear bedroom clear!”
Jeffries glanced around the room, lingering on the small pile of black ash, before he turned and met my gaze. “Why the fuck are you staring at me like that?”
“Hoping you’ll spontaneously combust,” I muttered under my breath.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake…really? Really, Lorn?”
I couldn’t stop the slight rise in my chest as Inspector Titus Banks stopped at the hand. He yanked his gaze from the upright middle finger to me. “I’m assuming this was you…it’s got your style all over it.”
I gave a shrug and tried to keep my eyes off the swell of his chest, or his muscled forearms, or his ice-blue eyes…or the nice bulge of his trousers between his thighs…
“Lorn?”
I flinched and yanked my gaze from his zipper. One brow climbed as he waited. He saw me staring…shit. “What can I say? Took your sweet-ass time getting here, it’s your own fault, really.”
He shook his head, but there was a slight curl of his lips for a second before it was gone. Titus stepped among the splayed limbs to stop in front of me.
He took one glance at my hands behind my back and commanded. “Un-cuff her, Jeffries.”
The Sergeant never moved, clenching his jaw until the muscles flexed.
“Now.”
Hate flared in the Sergeant’s dark eyes. He leaned forward as I brought my hand around to the front, holding his cuffs in one hand, and smiled.
I wanted to say something pithy, but all I could do was stare at Banks as he waited. He looked tired, darkened circles under his eyes and the first faint markings of gray hair.
His shirt was rumpled—a little too rumpled—which was out of character, especially for him. I tried to remember the last time I’d seen Mr. Perfectly Groomed and Immaculate…three months, maybe more…but even then, he’d looked frazzled.
I dropped my gaze to his hand, and then to the white indent on his finger. No ring. My heart gave a twitch. I yanked my gaze high, really seeing him now, seeing his haunted gaze…tasting his desperation, touching his soul.
His eyes widened, a pulse throbbed on the side of his neck. I opened myself up to that power…to that witch inside me, and crawled inside his mind…
Titus running along the middle of a darkened street…heavy footsteps jarring my feet…thud…thud…thud. The front of his shirt was covered in blood…a knife clutched in his hand.
And a ring, a plain gold wedding band, falling from the darkness…falling…falling….falling…
“Inspector, you’ll want to see this.”
I jerked at the intrusion and yanked from his mind, still, Titus never moved. Perfect blue eyes turned arctic as a blush settled on his cheeks. I shouldn’t have done that…shouldn’t have invaded his privacy like that.
“I’m sorry,” I murmured.
His lip curled as he took a step toward me. It was as close to anger as I’d ever seen him…as close to desperation as I’d felt from a human in a very long time.
He lashed out, grasping my arm, but there was no pain, only desperation.
“Inspector…”
“I’m coming,” Titus answered, and dropped his hold. “Jeffries, bring Ms. Payne to the station, un-cuffed this time.”
I shook my head. “You can’t. I’ve done nothing wrong.”
Jeffries moved fast, skimming his hands across my arms, my pockets, and the waistband of my jeans as Titus turned and walked away.
The Inspector had always been kind and fair, supplying me with coffee…and food during interviews, and fighting charges when they were clearly bogus. But whatever we had was now changed—and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do to take it back.
Jeffries was careful not to touch skin…this time.
I was told it took him a month to recover from the last time he decided to get handsy.
A month of nightmares.
A month of the dark whispering things that’d turn a saint into a sinner.
A month of sleeping with the lights on, and always wondering how someone like me could have so much power.
I leaned forward as he delved into my pockets and watched him wrench his hand away. The bitter tang of fear filled the air. Jeffries was a simple-minded coward, no two ways about it—he lifted a hand and stared at the plastic baggie between his fingers—but even cowards could be dangerous.
“What do we have here?” he murmured and stared at the glistening square inside.
“It’s nothing…just something I’m taking for my—”
“Stutch!” he roared. “This look like one of those we confiscated last week?”
One of the other officers headed our way, trembling and white as a sheet. Jeffries lifted the baggie higher and waited for a response.
But the Senior Constable didn’t answer. One look at his face and I knew why.
“Well?” Jeffries dragged his gaze from the drug in his hand to find Stutch’s gaze. “What the fuck’s wrong with you?”
“Let me guess,” I answered. “You found the remains.”
One nod was all I needed. “It’d been…processed.”
I flinched…processed…nice word for what came out of the demon. I could only imagine—no, wait—I didn’t want to fucking imagine.
“Yeah,” the Senior Constable stared at the drug as Jeffries turned it this way and that under the light. “That’s it.”
“So,” Jeffries glanced at the woman’s hand and the one-fingered salute. “Tampering with a crime scene and stealing…now, that holds up in my book.”
I clen
ched my jaw and stared at the plastic bag between his fingers. He fisted my shirt and shoved. “Now, move.”
I stumbled past the limbs and took one look at my trampled salt circle. “Wait…the demon.”
“We know what to do. A blowing wind or a running river,” Jeffries snarled and shoved. “You’re not the only one who can deal with those freaks.”
And there was that word again, pissing me off. I stumbled, finding my balance as I left the Maddison Court address behind.
Red and blue strobed in the dead of night. I blinked into the glare and stumbled along the pavement. Perfect tiny pink tea roses bloomed along the walkway. I glanced over my shoulder to the quaint townhouse and shook my head.
Something had gone very wrong in that house, and I wasn’t talking about the severed limbs or the mountain of demon dung left to rot and stink. I was talking about the reasons why.
Sigil showed me the way. Showed me everything. And it was glorious.
The rear door of the police door opened, Jeffries waited as I climbed inside before he slammed the door.
Red and blue, that’s all I saw…but it wasn’t all I felt.
Harbor was changing, growing…morphing into something more than a place of safety for Supes and witches like me. Voices filtered in from outside. Jeffries stood, chatting, taking his sweet-ass time. One glance my way and I realized it was for my benefit. The bastard was trying to push all my buttons.
And any other night, I’d rise to the bait—but not tonight.
Perfect pink roses turned purple under the blue glow. Last week was a riot of witches. Right winged called out the left…and the show-down was catastrophic.
Five buildings had been leveled, and two city blocks were destroyed. And all this had played out in front of humans for their prime time fucking enjoyment.
The Circle was still cleaning up the mess.
And they were pissed.
The bark of laughter tore me from the memory. Jeffries roared, slapped his buddy’s shoulder, and then turned, catching my stare.
I shoved my spine into the back of the seat and stared straight ahead. I wasn’t playing, not with him…and not with anyone—not tonight.
The flutter of movement caught my attention. White flared like a neon sign against the endless dark, falling from the night sky in one swift descent and then disappearing behind the towering building across the street.
A second later, one wing peeked out of the shadows. Perfect pure feathers caught the faded light as Gabriel leaned out and waved like a damn school girl.
“For fuck’s sake,” I muttered…as if my night couldn’t get any worse.
Gabriel took a step, and then another. His long coat brushing the ground as he moved, and from the sewn slits in the shoulders, massive wings stretched into the air.
The night breeze whipped his long pale hair from his shoulders and ruffled the opening of his coat. He was bare chested, sculpted muscles rock fucking hard. The man looked like a god. Heat flooded my body and lingered between my thighs as the driver’s door opened and Jeffries finally climbed in.
He adjusted the rearview mirror. “Sorry ‘bout that.”
He wasn’t sorry.
He was never damn sorry.
He found me in the mirror and then turned his head to follow my gaze to the quiet city street. “What are you staring at?” He glanced right, left, and waited.
“Nothing,” I muttered.
But Gabriel was gone from the sidewalk, taking refuge in the shadows once more. The engine started with a growl, and we were moving, pulling out from the sidewalk.
Titus stepped from the doorway as the patrol car pulled out into the street. He raised his gaze, finding me in the backseat, and for a second I swore his lips moved, mouthing words that gripped me like a vise…help me.
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On The Hunt - Becca Fanning
Copyright © 2018 by Becca Fanning
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
1
Leo
“Whoa, whoa, whoa. What are you bringing me?” Leo asked as he stopped the driver from unloading the dead cow carcass from his truck.
“Look, buddy, I don’t get paid to know things, I get paid to deliver. You Leonardo Bianchi?”
“Yes, I am, but you are not delivering that to me. Go ahead and shut the doors and bring me a return to sender form.”
“I’m not the fucking post office man.”
Leo could tell the man was pissed, and he had every right to be. But it didn’t change the fact that Leo could smell the rancid meet from the moment the truck pulled up outside of his butcher shop. One swift whack into that meat and everything in Leo’s shop would have to be sanitized, bleached and inspected, if not thrown out. The cow was from a potential new farmer that Leo had hoped to do business with but sending a tainted cow in from the start was just bad business.
The man finally realized he wasn’t getting anywhere with Leo and threw his hands in the air before slamming the doors on his refrigerated truck shut. The man muttered to himself the entire time he locked the doors and walked around to drag himself back inside the cab of his truck. Leo knew his cell phone would be ringing within minutes as the driver was no doubt on the phone with the farmer now. He didn’t care.
Leo walked back into the back entrance and washed his hands. His nose ruffled up. The tainted meat smell was still assaulting his lion’s senses. Once his hands were clean, he pulled his long latex gloves on, followed by his oversized apron. He hated being interrupted when he was mid butcher. It was even more annoying when it was for no reason. Leo took a nice deep breath of the fresh cow flank laying out on his table. That was the way good meat was supposed to smell.
He grabbed his butcher knife, even though his long canine teeth descended wanting to do the damage themselves, and then hacked the hind quarters off in one swift hit. A thrill zipped through Leo’s body. He had been a butcher in the small town for over a century, but his Lion still longed for a chance to tear into one of the many dead animals hanging in the freezer.
Leo worked tirelessly, finalizing the meat he had on his table before deciding to close up for the day. He threw his apron in the battered old washing machine, along with his shirt that he had somehow still managed to get blood on. He rinsed his gloves off and washed his hands before double checking his freezers. If Leo was being honest, he just liked to get one last whiff before he left for the night. He turned all the lights off and locked the doors before he started on his walk home.
A few of the other local shop owners waved as he walked by. They were used to seeing him shirtless, as it was something that happened frequently. He had to give the small-town people credit for accepting him. Shifters typically stayed with their packs in towns that consisted of other shifters, especially Lions; they were big on packs. Leo hadn’t been a part of a pack in close to two centuries, and he hadn’t regretted a day of it. The small town located right along the Mississippi in southern Louisiana gave him the perfect place to call home. Coupled with the fact that when he had shown up there the local butcher had been old and dying.
Leo never did figure out if the old man had been afraid Leo was going to kill him or if he genuinely wanted Leo for the job, but he taught Leo all he knew and left the shop to him when he passed. The same went for the farmers that continued to do business with Leo after he took over. Showing up and finding out Beryl had passed away and a lion shifter was their new business partner had taken several of them by surprise. They had rebounded quickly though, and things had moved along seamlessly ever since.
Leo turned off the main road and headed out to his trail in the woods. Once he was out of sight, he tugged off his pants and briefs and shifted. His lion wanted to roar, but Leo de
nied himself the freedom. People accepted him because he conformed to their human ways. It was rare anyone in town even saw him in his lion form, let alone heard him roar. He accepted the small pleasures he did allow himself, like his run home in his lion form.
Just as he was about to take off in a full sprint, he heard a twig snap off to his right. Leo stilled, letting the unfamiliar scent tickle his nose as he waited for another sound. Several beats passed before he heard the crunch of dried dirt under a boot, a small boot. The scent was female, but it was mixed with blood which caught Leo off guard.
The sound of a bow being drawn snapped Leo into action. He turned and lunged towards the sound, jerking his body in zig-zagging motion to make himself a harder target. Just as he closed in on the woman, she released the arrow. Leo didn’t move in time and the arrow found its way to his left shoulder. He hit the ground hard, shifting into his human form, hoping it would ward the woman off from sending anymore arrows his way.
2
Aislinn
“Shit! Shit! You’re a man, I mean a lion. Are you okay?” Aislinn threw her bow over her shoulder and raced to kneel beside the injured shifter.
“I have an arrow in my shoulder, so by definition I’m not doing the best,” his deep voice growled in response.
“I’m sorry. I panicked. I’ve never seen a shifter before, especially not a lion.”
The man didn’t say anything. Aislinn leaned in closer to inspect the injury, but he growled and jerked away. That was when Aislinn realized he was naked. Before she could stop herself, her eyes traveled down to his private parts.
“Shit!” she exclaimed as she quickly looked away.
“It looks a lot better when I’m not bleeding out, I promise.”
“I didn’t mean to look. I mean, I just, well…”
“You didn’t mean to shoot me or check out my package?”
“There’s no reason to be an ass, it was an accident. What in the hell are you doing all the way out here anyways? The closest shifter town is over two-hundred miles from here.”
“I can live where I want. I like it here, in the middle of nowhere, where people don’t normally shoot me on my way home from work.”
The man slowly got himself sat up, adjusting his leg to cover himself up as best as he could. Aislinn couldn’t help thinking he had quite a bit to cover up. She was a woman after all, and he was a man, a very well endowed, sexy man.
Summer Shifter Nights Page 40
