by T. S. Ryder
"Ana," Seth wheezed.
She shook her head and turned her back on the fight. Her heart pounded in her throat. If she got into the forklift, would she be able to ram the moose, help Joseph get the upper hand? Or would she just end up putting herself in danger?
In the end, though, it wasn't necessary. When Ana got to the forklift, she risked a glance backward. Crystal was on the floor, her legs crushed against her body by Joseph's bulk; his jaws were around her throat. Ana helped Seth into the forklift and when she turned back, Crystal was human again, cowering on the floor, her body shaking with sobs.
"You've ruined everything," she cried to Joseph as he also shifted. "I was just trying to protect the humans from Beasts like us. Can't you see? We don't deserve to walk free!"
"You are suffering because you've suppressed your shifter side," Joseph panted, still pinning her. "You're sick, and it's because you haven't talked with your Beast enough."
She clutched her head. "Shut up, shut up! I don't want anything to do with her! She's a demon inside of me, I have to find a way to cut her out before she can hurt anybody else."
Ana shuddered. Crystal believed what she was saying. She really did. How could anybody think of themselves like that? It was so horrific! Ana climbed into the forklift beside Seth and cautiously drove it towards where Joseph was. He was tying the woman up as she continued to sob. Seth slumped, his face pale as he tried to stem the flow from his bullet wound.
"This is why I do what I do," he whispered. "Look at her. This is what happens when shifters are forced to keep themselves hidden, when they are taught to hate themselves so much that they refuse to acknowledge their own identity. When will enough be enough?"
Ana had known all this but hadn't realized how bad it was. Her gaze flickered over all the dead bodies lying on the warehouse floor. If they hadn't hated shifters, they would all be alive. She shuddered again. If anything, her resolve had been bolstered from this. She had always been a proponent of shifter rights, but now she knew she had to do more.
Joseph picked up the petite Crystal easily. She continued to sob. He looked at Ana; their eyes met, and a feeling of love burst in her chest. That was her mate. He was alive and well.
And together, they were going to change the world.
Chapter Ten
Joseph leaned heavily on the crutch he still needed. The bullet wound in his leg had healed, but one of his knees had been completely shattered in Crystal's attack and he was still recovering from surgery. It had been several weeks since he had been kidnapped with Ana and Seth, but thanks to Ana's tender care, he was almost better. Without her, he would have been so bored stiff lying in bed all the time that he would have wrecked it further.
"Can I get you some water?" Ana asked as he sat down in an old, worn couch in her parent's house that was extremely comfortable despite its age.
"I'm good, thank you."
Behind Ana, Mrs. Medina snorted. "Get him water. He doesn't drink enough, a man that size needs to stay hydrated."
Ana rolled her eyes, and they shared a long-suffering look between them as Mr. Medina tried to convince his wife to leave Joseph alone. Ana's parents had insisted that they come for dinner today.
Not that Joseph didn't enjoy spending time with her parents. They were nice people and balanced one another out nicely. He was feeling a little tired of the energy levels here, though, and wanted to go home to have some relaxing time with his mate.
Well… relaxing might not be the right word for it. If they were careful, then the right position didn't strain his knee at all and they could take part in other activities…
Ana's father sat beside him and turned on the television. The news flickered on showing a picture of Seth Fischer.
"He's getting out of the hospital today," Ana commented. "Full recovery. Well, the doctors told me to make sure that he doesn't overdo it. It'll be hard, though. Seth's more determined than ever."
So was Ana. And so was Joseph. Crystal's mental breakdown only highlighted the need for change to happen. How many other shifters were out there, suffering like she had?
Ana and her mother hurried over to the couch when the news switched to a live broadcast from Seth outside of the hospital. The shifter looked pale, but he stood firm and his voice was powerful as he spoke into the microphones as cameras flashed at him.
"Our deepest sympathies go to Crystal Scott and her family," he started. "This is a painful time for us all, but especially for those who loved Crystal. The events of these past few weeks have only strengthened my resolve to see change come to our country. We have seen how the hatred of shifters cost a bright, compassionate young woman to lose her mind. This is why I do what I do. So that shifters will not have to hide, so they will not suppress themselves.
"It is a fact that when shifters does not feel free to be themselves, when they are shamed into thinking there is something wrong with them, when they ignore or, worse, try to cut out that part of them that makes them a shifter, it damages their mental health. The time has come for shifters to stand up and say "I am here. I am proud of who I am, and I will not be silenced." But in order for this to happen, our laws must be changed. Shifters are legally discriminated against in this country that is meant to be the home of the free. I ask you, free for whom?"
Joseph felt a well of pride rise in him as he listened to the senator. Maybe change was possible. It would take voices crying for change, though, and his would be among them. No more hiding his shifter side from his coworkers. Buck would be proud of him, finally taking a stand on his own identity.
After Seth's speech was over, Ana's father nodded. "I always liked Seth, even when he was a little boy. When are you going back to work with him, sweetheart?"
Ana slid down next to Joseph, squeezing his hand. "I'm already back working with him. Just not as much. But Seth has me doing a bunch of research to use in his arguments against the Shifter Registry. We're hopeful that it's not going to pass. A lot of shifter rights groups have gotten more vocal since the news about Crystal broke. She was adopted by anti-shifter parents and when her husband found out she was a shifter, he accused her of raping him. The poor girl never had a chance."
"Hopefully, it works out in our favor," Joseph agreed. It would be all too easy for anti-shifter groups to point to Crystal and claim that she was proof that they needed a shifter registry, but thankfully Seth had seized it right away and was turning it into a cry for shifter rights. "Using her tragedy as a way to better inform the public was a stroke of genius."
"That’s Seth," Ana replied proudly. "He's a master at this sort of thing."
Joseph glanced at her. His mate. His heart swelled with a happiness he never thought he would ever experience. Maybe he was turning into one of those gooey-eyed men who lived for his mate, but he wouldn't trade it for the bland life he had led before. Ana was everything he could ever want.
"And what about you?" Ana's father looked at Joseph. "When are you going back to work?"
"As soon as this knee's fixed up." Joseph tapped the offending joint. "Cap is pairing me with a new recruit. I'm… hopeful we'll get along."
The new guy reminded him of Buck. He had a lot to learn, though.
"I don't like your line of work." Ana's mother frowned. "I don't know how your poor mother sleeps at night, knowing that you are getting shot at every day."
Joseph laughed. "I rarely get shot at, Mrs. Medina. In fact, most of a detective's work is done behind a desk. The movies make it look a lot more glamorous than it actually is."
"Well, you'll have to tell your parents to come over someday soon, anyway," Ana's mother said. "I'd love to meet them. I know this wonderful lawyer that might be able to help your mother get her medical license back."
Joseph inclined his head towards her. "That would be great. I'm sure they'll love to meet you. But right now, I think we had better get home. This knee needs some rest."
"Of course."
They said their goodbyes, including more hugs than Joseph wa
s entirely comfortable with. Soon, however, they were on their way, Ana driving while he stretched out his leg. She kept giving him glances and smiles that had his heart beating faster.
"Ana, I love you," he blurted.
"I know. I love you, too. But I know what you're up to."
Joseph rose a brow.
She parked the car outside the house and gave him a long, slow kiss. What she meant was all too clear, and Joseph grinned. He had to resist the urge to carry her inside–his knee couldn't take it. Ana broke the kiss and slipped away, her eyes twinkling.
"Come and get me, my wild Bear," she whispered and disappeared into the house.
Joseph grinned and followed his mate.
*****
THE END
The Billionaire Gorilla's Baby
Description
A curvy thief caught red-handed PLUS a hot billionaire who wants to make a deal PLUS a dangerous secret and an attack
Scarlett Brenan does not steal. She's an acquisitionist. Stealing would imply she was taking things that could not be replaced, and that sort of behavior would be extremely ungentlewomanly.
Yes, some still would call it stealing and she does have the moniker of the 'Gentlewoman Thief' in the newspapers, but she would never take anything from someone who didn't already have far more than they needed. Besides, she makes a point of redistributing her acquired wealth, so really she is in charitable work.
Only one person, her mentor, knows of Scarlett's humanitarian efforts… until she is caught by billionaire Maximillian Barnes in his safe.
Scarlett is certain her career is over until the handsome billionaire makes a deal with her. If she'll pretend to be his mysterious fiancée for one year, he'll give her whatever it is she wants and introduce her to his grossly rich friends for her future endeavors.
But what starts as simple play-acting becomes far too real far too quickly… and Scarlett discovers a secret Max has been hiding for years that might just ruin the game.
To make matters worse, somebody else out there knows Scarlett's identity, and that someone wants her dead.
Chapter One
Sounds of piano music and laughter wafted up the grand marble staircase to the fifth room on the right. Inside this particular room, a light breeze blew lace curtains in lazy circles while moonlight drifted through the window, shining directly into the room-sized wall safe. Jeweled necklaces, cufflinks and other trinkets sparkled in the wan light.
Scarlett fixed a silver tiara on her head, admiring the way the pale metal contrasted with her dark hair. It was something she would very much like to take with her. She smiled as she imagined herself in a fancy dress wearing the tiara, like a princess out of a fairy-tale movie. Her fingers ran across necklaces and glittering, delicate rings left on the safe shelves.
Why would a man like Maximillian Barnes have so much women's jewelry? He hadn't been seen photographed with a woman other than his elderly housekeeper in nearly five years, since the tragic death of his parents. Although he claimed to have a fiancée somewhere, the lack of evidence provided by the media indicated that this fiancée was just a fabrication.
Which could only mean that the necklaces and tiaras must have belonged to his mother.
With a sigh, Scarlett set the tiara back on its stand, running her gloved hand over the large center ruby one last time. It was truly a work of art. No, she would leave the tiara. Even though she was certain it was insured for at least its monetary worth, if it belonged to Barnes' mother it would hold sentimental value, and she did not help herself to things that could not be replaced. If she took it, she'd have to destroy it if she meant to sell it, anyway.
What she would take, however, were the stacks of bearer bonds in the safe. There had to be two million dollars' worth there, carelessly stuffed into the corner of the safe. They were hardly sentimental. Given that Barnes pulled in an estimated five billion annually, he wouldn't even miss this two million. He'd have gotten it back by the end of the week. Plenty of people out there deserved it more.
Somebody new took over the piano downstairs, and Scarlett wrinkled her nose at the change of song. They were playing a 'modern' version of Mozart's Piano Sonata Number 3.
Dreadful. Absolutely dreadful. In her opinion, the classics ought to remain classics. This player was destroying all the complexity of the score, simplifying it for the repetitious strain of current pop music. It was enough to drive a gentlewoman to distraction.
And distracted she was.
She didn't hear the approaching footfalls on the carpet in the corridor outside, didn't see the hulking shadow lurking in the door. But he saw her.
When the light flicked on and she turned to see Maximillian Barnes standing in the doorway with a surprised expression on his face, Scarlett was not afraid of being caught. Rather, she was upset with herself. If she was allowing her patrons to walk in on her while she worked, well, she was becoming too cocky. Arrogance was not attractive in a gentlewoman.
And it certainly didn't help her current situation.
"Whoever is butchering Mozart down there ought to be shot," she told the billionaire, emphasizing her southern drawl as she slid her bag, packed with her tools and acquisitions, onto her back. When people heard her accent, they generally thought she was stupid. And when people thought she was stupid, it was easier to get away with things. She kept her tone light and conversational. "I simply can't stay any longer and listen to that travesty. Goodnight to you, sir."
With a smile and a wave, Scarlett darted to the window. She was fast–faster than she looked. Because her figure showed just how much she enjoyed cupcakes and hamburgers, people assumed that she was heavy-footed, slow and clumsy, the stereotypical 'fat girl' who couldn't possibly do things like scale a two-floor wall or leap between houses. They assumed wrong, though, and that usually worked to her advantage.
Not this time. Barnes, too, was faster than he looked, and just as Scarlet reached the window, his arms wrapped around her waist.
He was stronger than she realized as well–Scarlett's eyes widened as he lifted her bodily from the ground, twirling her away from the window. A hand the size of a dinner plate slapped over her mouth. Barnes carried her back to the safe, depositing her while he ripped her pack off her.
"Sir, I insist that you release me at once!" Scarlet's voice was higher-pitched than normal, even as she tried to calm her pounding heart.
Panicking would only make the situation worse.
"You are an intruder in my house, madam," Barnes replied, with all the courtesy that his English accent demanded. He pulled Scarlett's handcuffs, only to be used in the most desperate of emergencies, from her pack and spun her around. "You have no right to make demands."
Before Scarlett could fight back or even protest, he had slapped a cuff on one wrist, threaded it through a bar that protruded from the wall, and cuffed her other wrist. Scarlett's heart rate spiked; this could spell the end of her career or worse! Too late, she struggled, kicking at Barnes. He merely stepped out of her reach.
It was no secret that another billionaire, Ken Madoc, had been searching for her ever since she entered his house to find two bodies stuffed into his safe. Barnes and Madoc ran in the same circles. If they were friends, it might as well be her body hidden away. She would probably never be found.
Barnes calmly stuffed a handkerchief into her mouth, then removed his tie and gagged her with it. "I'm afraid I have to leave you now and attend to my guests. I will return when I can, and then we can talk."
He closed the safe door, locking her in darkness.
Scarlett twisted against her cuffs, panic threatening to overwhelm her. If he was going to call the police, he would not have gagged her. So either he did know Madoc, or he was going to handle her himself anyway. He probably thought he could get away with it–he was so rich, he probably could.
This is why I hate people who have too much money. They think the world is theirs to command.
She kicked around in the darkness, trying
to locate her pack. Her lock-picking gear was inside and, if she could get it, then she could escape before Barnes returned to… what? Give her cement shoes and throw her in the nearest lake? Put a bullet in the back of her head?
All her struggles were in vain. By Scarlett's reckoning, she was in the safe for an hour, no closer to escape than when he had first put her in, when Barnes returned. The sounds of partying below were gone, so Scarlett didn't bother screaming when he removed the gag from her mouth. She stared at him coldly as he picked up her pack and emptied it. At least he had the decency to sort things out into proper piles.
"A newspaper clipping about a school in Queens being closed due to budget cuts?" he said at last. A grin grew on his face as he looked up. "You must be the Gentlewoman Thief."
Scarlett nodded with all the grace she could muster.
"I'm honored, madam." He bowed.
"Thank you."
Barnes began packing her things again. "I must say, I have been a great admirer of your work for some time. I especially enjoyed that letter you wrote to the newspaper over the nickname they gave you."
Even though it was ungentlewomanly to scowl, Scarlett found herself doing just that at the mention of her former nickname. Kitty Cat Burglar. "That 'name' was nothing more than an attempt to both infantilize and sexualize me. It's disgusting."
"As you said in your letter." Barnes' smile widened. "A scolding to the media for the way they portray women, especially young girls, as having worth only because of how sexually desirable they are. It was masterfully written."
