Alpha Mate: BBW Paranormal Shifter Romance

by Natalie Kristen

  “Jett,” Lucas said, his eyes still on Grayson. “For the benefit of some PAC members who may not have kept up to date on the latest and toughest training program of the Enforcement Unit, could you please brief the Council on what the trainees undergo when they are recruited as Enforcers? And, let us have the names of the latest graduates from the training program. I think some of the Council members may want to shadow these rookies and assess their physical and mental strength for themselves.”

  “Yes, Alpha.” Jett unfolded his arms and stood to his full height. At six and a half feet, he was an inch shorter than Lucas. Lucas was taller and broader, and when they sparred, Lucas was faster and stronger than Jett. But that was no slight to the human trainer. That Jett could hold his own against the alpha wolf was proof enough of his abilities, agility and skill.

  For a human, his Chief Trainer was tough, rough and fast—mentally and physically. Jett was a master at strategy, and he had infiltrated and busted quite a few large smuggling and money laundering rings during his time with the NMPD.

  Lucas seriously doubted that the greedy warlock was a match for his cunning Chief Trainer.

  Obeying his Alpha, Jett pushed back from the table and began to speak, addressing the PAC respectfully and authoritatively, “The trainees in the Enforcement Unit have to go through two stages of training before they can graduate as a rookie Enforcer. The basic training involves pure physical training, where we make sure the trainee builds up his or her speed, strength and stamina. When they are deemed ready, they will be made to go through their first obstacle course. There is a grueling obstacle course in the PAC training headquarters that the trainees have to run, jump, lift, punch, swim and crawl their way through. Not all trainees make it through this obstacle course. Those who make it get to try their hand and claw at another obstacle course—an outdoor one.”

  Jett paused, looking round the table. “The trainees will still have to run, jump, swim and crawl, but this time, they will be battling the elements while they do it. They will be running across desserts and jungles, fighting sandstorms and wild animals as they try to reach the endpoint in time. They need speed, endurance and skill to survive. Their swimming and climbing skills will also be tested. They have to swim through a raging river, wrestle crocodiles along the way, and climb a mountain, without climbing gear. For the human trainees, they have to use just their bare human limbs. Paranormal trainees can use whatever capabilities they have at their disposal. Vampire trainees would have to avoid the sunlight and yet get to the endpoint in time. Shifter trainees can shift into their animals, but as you know, some find it more difficult to navigate the obstacles while in their animal forms. I can assure you that it is extremely challenging to scale a mountain as a platypus. Some witch trainees use their spells to help them, but as Samantha can tell you, spell casting is draining, and after a bout of spell casting, some of the witch trainees succumb to heat stroke and lose consciousness, thereby losing valuable time. Some don't make it to the endpoint by the allotted time. Those who fail this basic training, don't go on to the advanced level.”

  Lucas leaned back and glanced around the table. He and Jett had been the architects behind the training program, so what Jett was reporting was of no surprise to him. But he saw that some of the PAC members were wide-eyed and whispering among themselves. Keagan Slater the weredragon was rubbing his chin thoughtfully. The werebear Blake Madden was nodding and speaking in a low, rumbling tone to Ella, who was frowning hard and shaking her head. Helen was scowling beside him, and he didn't know if she was showing her displeasure at what she was hearing, or disapproving of Jett's training methods. She was always disapproving and disagreeable, but all in all she meant no real harm.

  A sudden thought struck him and it almost made him choke out loud. Helen was much like the mother-in-law he would never have. He had lived for three hundred years and his mate was nowhere in sight. It was very likely that he would live for three hundred more, and never find her. So no mate meant no mother-in-law. Ah, was it a curse or a blessing? He narrowed his eyes at the strange turn of his thoughts at a PAC meeting. But he suspected that this would make him regard Helen in a more sympathetic light.

  Most of the PAC members were unmated as well. Except for Helen, Grayson and Samantha, the rest of the Council members were all unmated.

  And what the hell was he doing mulling over his unmated status at a PAC meeting?

  Lucas cleared his throat a little too loudly, making all heads turn towards him. They were all looking at him curiously. Lucas let out a growl and said gruffly, “I'll take it from here. Thank you, Jett.”

  Jett nodded and took his seat.

  Lucas coughed into his fist and tried to get back to the matter at hand. Which was—

  “The advanced level of the training,” Lucas said pointedly to his PAC members, directing their attention to where it should be. Council matters. Training of the Enforcers. Not his personal life, or the sore lack thereof.

  Lucas looked round the table and stated, “The advanced level is where we hone the trainees' mental strength and capabilities. To hunt and fight rogues, the Enforcers must be able to out think and outsmart them. Relying on pure speed and strength alone is not enough. As we well know, rogues are almost always very powerful, even more so than your average paranormal. Most paranormals are willing and able to control their powers. They maintain control over their powers and abilities at all times. But rogues are uncontrolled, untamed, unpredictable. Their inability and unwillingness to rein in their prowess makes them unleash their powers in destructive, violent ways. Some of their bodies and minds are destroyed in the process, and they become a warped version of themselves. Some rogue shifters are stuck permanently in a half shift, stumbling about with half their minds and half their bodies. They are trapped in their half human, half beast forms and their blood lust becomes uncontrollable, shattering their minds and conscience. Some rogue demons morph into their demonic forms, and indulge in their insatiable demonic lusts, killing many innocent humans and paranormals before they are tracked down and destroyed. These rogues are very dangerous, and very powerful. It is near impossible to overcome and defeat them physically. So an Enforcer's mind must be honed to be a lethal weapon as well. An Enforcer's mind must be stronger than his or her body. That's the only way to win.”

  Lucas met every pair of eyes in turn, noting the fire that burned behind the demon's black eyes. Zorath had personally slain a couple of rogue demons that had raped and murdered hundreds of human and paranormal females. Lucas had heard that Zorath had snapped the rogue demons' horns right off their heads when he caught them, so great had been his rage. Zorath was attending the PAC meeting in his human form, so his horns were retracted and hidden under his jet black hair which was neatly sleeked back. He was the only Council member in a designer three-piece suit, replete with white hanky in his coat pocket. The vampire Glenn Constantine was the only other member in a jacket, but his shirt was unbuttoned at the collar and he wasn't wearing a tie. Lucas was dressed in black jeans and a black long-sleeved shirt. He had rolled the sleeves up to his elbow, and his top two buttons were undone. Keagan and Blake were also in jeans, but while Keagan had on a t-shirt which stretched tight over his broad chest, the burly werebear was in a gray wife-beater.

  Grayson and Samantha were both in cloaks. Maybe that was the standard dress code for mated paranormals. Once you're mated, you don a cloak. Lucas glanced at Helen and saw that she was not in a cloak. She was dressed in a smart, tailored pant suit with a string of pearls around her neck. Lucas found himself breathing a sigh of relief. He didn't relish the thought of finding himself in a long, flowing cloak. Though he did relish the thought of finding his mate. But that thought was more like a dream. A dream that would never come true. Perhaps the likes of him didn't deserve a mate.

  He had always been a hunter. Brutal, relentless, lethal. He had hunted and slaughtered rogues as an Enforcer. And before paranormals arrived at a truce, he had fought and killed vampires in th
e turf war between vamps and weres. There was a lot of blood on his hands.

  Lucas's claws sliced out unconsciously. Lucas was old and powerful enough to control every aspect of his wolf, so that he could draw upon his wolf prowess while in human form. His claws were usually his first weapon to be unsheathed when faced with danger or pain. It was like a reflex, his body's instinctive defensive mechanism kicking in to enable him to fight and survive. Lucas curled his fingers under the table and forced his claws to retract. There was no danger here. He breathed in deeply and suppressed a growl. He had been experiencing this ache in his chest for some time, but it was becoming more acute and frequent. Perhaps he was coming down with something. Or—perhaps he should get his heart checked. There had been reports of paranormals collapsing from heart attacks. Unheard of in the past, but with their increasingly sedentary lifestyles and high cholesterol diets, many paranormals were succumbing to diseases which used to plague only humans. It was inevitable in a way. Living side by side with humans, the paranormals gradually adopted the same city lifestyles and diets as their human neighbors. They watched the same television programs, were bombarded with the same advertisements for junk food, and the vampires even had to drink that high cholesterol human blood for sustenance. Hi-fat blood was the only thing on the menu in most blood bars these days. And most civilian shifters tended to shift into their animals forms even less frequently than the recommended three times a week, for at least twenty minutes each time. It was no wonder that the healers were reporting that the number of paranormals suffering from high blood pressure and diabetes was going up at an alarming rate.

  He rubbed his chest, hoping that he wasn't having a silent heart attack, and made a mental note to start a health program for paranormals. His gaze swept round the table and stopped at Blake. An image of a huge grizzly bear in leotards and sweatbands leading an aerobics class for overweight paranormals flashed before his eyes.

  Lucas pressed his knuckles to his mouth and adopted the thinking man pose in order to hide his smile. He got his man.

  Enough of the distraction.

  He was about to let the PAC know what the Enforcer trainees were made to go through for their advanced training before they were assessed at their Final test. He knew that the training regime that he and Jett had designed was tough as hell, and he was quietly proud of the trainees who had made it through.

  Lucas pushed his chair back and started to pace round the table.

  “To test them,” he said, walking and talking at a steady pace. “The trainees are pitted against their trainers. But you can say that it's not exactly a fair fight. While their trainers can fight using any method and weapon of their choice, the trainees are shackled. They have to fight with one arm locked behind their back, and one leg shackled to a weight. Sometimes they are blindfolded as well. Almost all the trainees are beaten bloody by the end of the fight, but they are not allowed to stop. They are only let out of the ring when they have succeeded in striking the target points on their trainer's body. The target points are the red dots on the trainer's protective and monitoring gear. These are over the trainer's heart and neck. That's how you kill rogues. Stab them in the heart, or take off their heads. With their physical capabilities severely curtained and compromised, the trainees will have to use stealth and strategy to hit their targets. It is not easy, I assure you, and only the best make it out of the ring.”

  As Lucas resumed his seat, Keagan leaned forward and said, “So if they clear the advanced level, they graduate as rookie Enforcers. But that's not the end, right? There's a Final test.”

  Lucas looked at the dragon shifter and answered, “Oh, the Final test is the easiest level. We simply send them out on the field.”

  At that, several brows and voices were raised.

  “It's a lot like learning to drive. To be able to drive and get your license, you've got to hit the road. So our rookie Enforcers have got to hit the streets and learn to deal with the traffic,” Lucas finished with a shrug.

  “So you just turn them loose and let them run amok on their own?” Grayson said, his voice rising a notch to indicate his righteous indignation.

  Lucas regarded Grayson with studied patience. And studied his patience was. He hadn't always been able to hold his temper quite so well. As Alpha, he had quickly realized that there were many issues at play in the PAC and within the paranormal and human communities. There were inter-species sensitivities. There were political battles. There were commercial and community considerations. New Moon City was a big melting pot, with tensions always simmering below the surface. If he wasn't careful, the pot might just boil over, spilling blood and guts everywhere.

  A quick temper would not serve an Alpha, the PAC or the city well.

  “First, the rookie Enforcers do not, and will not, in any circumstances, run amok. They are given strict instructions on how to conduct themselves on their first patrol. No running, unless giving chase to a rogue. They are to walk at a steady pace, keeping their weapons sheathed at all times, so as not to cause unnecessary alarm and panic.” Lucas paused, taking in the silence in the room.

  “And,” he went on slowly. “The rookies are not turned loose and left on their own. They are shadowed and assessed by a senior Enforcer or trainer, or PAC member. Yes, PAC members are entitled to put in their request to observe and assess new Enforcement officers. But none of you have yet to take up your entitlement and put in your request.” He smiled at each of his PAC members in turn. He riffed through some papers in front of him. “I have put in a request some nights ago. I'm not sure if the trainers have approved my request. Oh.” He pulled out a sheet of paper and waved it. “Here it is. It seems that I am scheduled to shadow a team of rookie Enforcers this evening. Who are these rookies?” He squinted at the paper.

  “You'll be shadowing and assessing Charlotte Cole and Bryn Ellis, Alpha,” Jett spoke up. “They will be on their first patrol tonight.”

  “A human and a vampire,” Lucas muttered, scanning the information before him. The mugshots showed two fairly young females in their early twenties. The vampire had sharp, angular features, dark, straight hair and coal black eyes, while the human's features were softer, rounder—and sexier. He stared at her strawberry blond hair, green eyes, round cheeks and plump, pink lips. She was—

  Jett's urgent voice forced his eyes away from that alluring picture. “Their patrol starts...” Jett glanced at his watch. “...ten minutes from now.”

  Lucas nodded and handed the stack of papers to Ella, who served as the PAC Secretary.

  “So. Before we conclude the meeting, I'd just like to propose that we put a health program in place,” Lucas announced, remembering his mental note. It was true he had a lot on his mind and his plate, but he always remembered his priorities. “Paranormals should be taking better care of their health. A healthy mind and a healthy body would enable them to enjoy their naturally long lifespans and not drop dead in mid-shift or mid-spell from cardiac arrest. We need someone to spearhead this campaign, and start this health movement. I propose Blake Madden for the job.”

  “I second!” Keagan grinned.

  The look of shock on Blake's face transformed into a scowl. He looked like a big, bad bear, with his knuckles popping and teeth gnashing. And nobody liked to be in a room with a grumpy bear.

  “The meeting is adjourned,” Lucas called out. A few chairs were toppled as everyone got to their feet and made a beeline for the door. Only Blake was left stewing in his seat, glaring daggers at the swiveling chair that Lucas had just vacated.

  Lucas glanced back at the big bear shifter and grinned. The deep lines forming on Blake's forehead showed that the man was deep in thought. Good man. He was probably formulating a catchy slogan, and a jingle, for his health campaign. Lucas knew he could count on Blake. The bear shifter might be rough and gruff, but he was solid. Not just on the outside. Blake was a powerful alpha bear, and he reined in his strength, power and temper at all times. He was trustworthy, dependable, and for all his
growling and grumbling, possessed a great sense of humor and a sharp wit.

  Jett met him at the door and shot off the information at rapid fire speed. “The rookies will leave the PAC Headquarters at twenty-one hundred hours. Their patrol covers the whole area between Sixty-sixth Street and Crescent Avenue.”

  “Thanks.” Lucas clapped him on the shoulder and made for the lift. “I'll catch them on the ground floor.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Lucas leaned against a shop window, his arms folded across his broad chest. He had been trailing the rookie team for half an hour now. He had caught them just as they were exiting the PAC Headquarters. Forcing himself to hang back so that he could follow them undetected, he had watched the two females carry themselves stiffly at first as they started their patrol with nervous, tentative steps and whispers before their stance relaxed just a little as they hit their stride.

  He couldn't see their faces. He had been watching their backs and caught glimpses of their side profiles as they turned to speak to each other or scan the streets.

  From the back, their hair and body shape matched what he saw in their mugshots. The female vampire, Bryn Ellis, was a slim, petite female with hair that was a shade of blue so dark it was almost black. She wore it in a long braid that reached to her tiny waist. Her skin, like most vamps, was pasty white since she never saw the sun. She cut a stark, black figure in her long leather jacket and pants, and black combat boots.

  The human female was similarly dressed. The outfit was the standard uniform of the Enforcers. The long jacket was to hide the arsenal of weapons on their bodies. Silver daggers, wooden stakes, guns with silver bullets, lighters, pepper spray, salt, vials of spells and potions.

  But the uniform was anything but stark on her.

  Her strawberry blond hair was tightly pulled back with a simple black rubber band at her nape. Her figure was full and lush, with those leather pants hugging and caressing her curvy hips and thighs. From her side profile, he could see that she was very well endowed. Her long jacket opened in the front to reveal a generous bosom. She was taller and curvier than her vamp partner, and she made the Enforcer uniform look seriously sexy. Lucas never realized the black leather outfit could look so hot on a female.