20 Shades of Shifters: A Paranormal Romance Collection

by Demelza Carlton

  This was a bad place to meet someone. Surrounded by cops. I hadn’t expected to come back here ever.

  I pulled up my texting app. I had a bunch of messages from Asmodeus.

  Hey, I’m here. Across the street.

  Hey. Hurry. Where are you?

  Hey! There are a lot of fucking cops here!

  Okay, okay. I casually walked across the street to the house there, a similar building to Damien’s house, probably built by the same company. It had an extensive lawn out the front and the whole property was ringed in a massive line of thirty foot tall trees. I pressed the doorbell.

  A withered looking woman pulled open the door, smiling warmly as she saw me. “Well,” she said, in a creaking, ancient voice. “You took your time.”

  Gabe, I presumed. It made sense that they could adopt different shapes like I could. But I needed to test him. “Hi,” I said, putting my hands on my hips. “How did we meet?”

  She—he?—smiled. “In a game of seven minutes of heaven,” said Gabe, beckoning me inside. “Come on.”

  I was pretty sure it was him, but I just wanted to see him squirm a little. “And what did I do there?” I asked, deliberately injecting a little teasing into my tone.

  The slightly nervous shuffle he made revealed that it was a disguise more than anything. “We played around,” he said, an edge of his normal voice creeping into the ancient, grandmotherly air he was trying to project. “Come on in before someone sees you.”

  “I gotta be sure,” I said, unable to keep a cheeky smile off my face. “Be specific.”

  “You sucked my dick,” he mumbled.

  Right. Well that was good enough for me. “I call it ‘Climbing the Corporate Ladder’.”

  “Uh huh,” said Gabe. “Truth in television, I guess.” Felt good to make a celestial uncomfortable.

  I stepped inside and Gabe closed the door, his grandmotherly form melting away and his normal appearance returning.

  “You smell, by the way,” he said, turning back to me. “What happened?”

  “I literally crawled through a sewer,” I said, scowling. “But I lost her. I think.”

  “Good.” Gabe smiled sheepishly. “I still think you look great.” He coughed, waving his hand in front of his nose. “Not smell great, obviously.”

  “Yeah.”

  He smiled. “Anyway. Welcome to heaven’s safe house. We have cable.”

  “We have a better wardrobe,” I shot back.

  He didn’t seem to want to argue that point. “Anyway, I just want to check. You’re okay, right?”

  I don’t know why, but him being concerned about me was actually kind of nice. “I’m fine,” I said. A thought occurred. “Where’s Asmodeus?”

  “Here,” he called from what I presumed to be the kitchen. “But hey, you should come check this out. We got a problem.”

  And Then Things Got Worse

  Heaven’s safe house

  Near Damien’s Place

  New Jersey

  I followed the sound of Asmodeus’s voice into the kitchen. He’d set up a small phone as a tiny TV, streaming from some web service. It was a news broadcast. Gabe came in behind me.

  “…come to you live from New Jersey, where we are covering a series of confusing and strange events.”

  I leaned around Asmodeus, trying to see what the tiny screen was showing. Shaky footage of the night sky. For a brief moment, my winged form flew in front of the moon, dragging Damien’s helpless body higher and higher.

  “No wonder the nephilim are so pissed,” said Gabe, scratching his chin thoughtfully. “Cell phone cameras are everywhere these days.”

  “I’m well aware of that,” I said. It was pretty frustrating to be caught out like this, which was in turn making me more angry. I should be able to keep a better control of myself. Why was I acting this way?

  Was I trying to impress Gabe? What the hell was the point of that? Even the thought fed into the negative cycle, and I felt my hands ball into fists at my sides.

  “Well,” Asmodeus mused, “there’s no way we can get rid of that tape now. It’s been over broadcast television, and the Internet never forgets. Fortunately it’s pretty blurry. I’ll talk to some of my contacts in the pit, see if we can spin this into something useful. You know, something like…it was all computer generated imagery, you know. A fake.”

  “Or a viral marketing move for a new movie,” said Gabe, leaning in a little bit. “That could definitely work. We just need to pump out some kind of shitty shovelware mobile app focused around bats abducting people and say it was part of that. Good idea.”

  Lying? Gabe was suggesting we lie? I cracked a big smile. “That doesn’t sound very much like Heaven’s way to me,” I said, teasing him.

  “It’s his idea,” said Gabe, frowning at the little imp.

  “Please,” said Asmodeus, waving his hand modestly. “You give me too little credit.”

  Still, the notion gave Gabe obvious cause for pause. “I wouldn’t normally suggest something like this if there was any other way,” he said, sombrely. “Heaven tends to agree. We aren’t in the business of manipulation and deceit as a general rule, but with the nephilim involved, we have no choice. Preservation of the masquerade must come before all other concerns. Humanity are not yet ready to know the full, true extent of their reality.”

  “He’s right you know,” said Asmodeus, sticking out his tongue in disgust. “Even though it’s fucking terrible to even consider agreeing with someone like him, human beings suck.”

  We all sat there in relative silence for a moment, watching the screen play the same recording over and over. That was a relief to me. If they had more footage, more conclusive evidence, they would play it too. This was no 9/11. No Charlottesville Car Attack. The media didn’t know what to do with the scraps they had, but the idea that they might look for more was worrying.

  “Okay,” I said. “I stink like literal shit, so I’m going to have a shower.”

  Asmodeus flashed a leery smirk. “You should take him with you,” he said, jerking his thumb toward Gabe. “Let off a little steam, you know?”

  That was actually a really good idea. “Saving water is noble,” I said, playfully resting a hand on my filthy hip. “And I’m pretty sure a house this fancy has a little more than seven minutes of hot water…”

  Gabe’s flustered stammering was actually almost adorable in a way. His whole face turned several shades redder and he fumbled idly with a stray string on his shirt. “Uhh, well, I’m pretty sure my bosses wouldn’t like me doing that.”

  I snorted and shrugged. “You think I’m going to tell them?”

  That didn’t seem to sway him at all. “They’ll know,” he said, looking genuinely to be tempted by my offer.

  “Oh, right,” I said, nodding politely. “Right. Because they’re always watching and all that. Hey, that’s totally fine with me, baby. If heaven gets their motor running that way, I am not about to kink-shame them at all. Some of the Hellish orgies I’ve been part of are much more public than that.” I couldn’t help but smile, thinking of all those pleasant memories. “You know, they keep succubi and incubi separate from each other in Hell, just to make sure we at least try to do some work, but I mean, succubi can turn into guys too, sooo…it doesn’t really help much.”

  Asmodeus snickered like a hyperactive cat. “I hear really intriguing things from those orgies,” he said. “Like—”

  Gabe held up a hand. “I’m good,” he said, firmly. “No need to overshare.”

  It was really cute seeing him get all flustered. “Yeah,” I said, reaching out and grabbing his hand in mine and gripping it tightly. “No more words. C’mon. Let’s go get cleaned up…and then get all messy again.”

  Scrub-a-dub-dub

  Heaven’s safe house

  Near Damien’s Place

  New Jersey

  I half led, half dragged the bewildered, stammering Gabe into the house, toward what I presumed would be the master bedroom. He didn�
��t really say much, and I could tell that—despite my obviously dirty condition and the deep philosophical divide between us—he was kind of into me.

  Maybe not quite as much as I’d liked, as sexual power over others was the hallmark of succubi and incubi, but I had something.

  The master bedroom had, as I predicted, an en suite. Its own private shower and bathroom, tiled in blue and off to one side. There was heaps of room, with a fancy vanity and more than enough room for two people to stand in the shower in comfort. I pulled Gabe straight in the room. Ooo, heated floor tiles.

  He slid his hand out of mine. “Okay,” he said, flushed beet red. “Now…we’re here. In the shower. We did it.”

  Now I could see his hand was messy too. I just glanced at it, letting his eyes follow mine.

  “You really are filthy,” he said, wiping his hand off on his shirt disdainfully.

  “Boy, you don’t know the half of it,” I said, flashing some teeth. “You heaven types seem to be voyeurs, maybe I can share some of the details. You ever had six guys fuck you at the same time?” I giggled teasingly, almost unable to help myself. “I mean, you probably can’t even imagine where they all fit, right? Well, they’re super creative…”

  “I bet they are. Look, I’ll just wait outside while you get cleaned up, okay?”

  I smiled to him over my shoulder, showing off my butt. “I thought I was pretty clear that I didn’t want that,” I said, reaching up under my torn, ragged, mud-splattered hoodie and pulling it over my head. “I kind of wanted you to stay.”

  “Is…that what you want?” asked Gabe. I removed the hoodie and tossed it aside; he had his gaze averted, even though I still had my shirt on, even though I still had my back faced toward him. “I’m just not sure if it’s what you wanna do, or what the pit wants you to do, given who…what…I am.”

  It was a pretty valid concern, to be honest, and had our situations been reversed it would probably be the first question I would be asking. I wasn’t sure why it frustrated me so much—maybe I just hadn’t been properly laid in a while and all the talk of Hellish orgies had got me fired up—but I really wanted him to step into that shower with me.

  “I already swallowed your baloney pony,” I said, demurely hooking my fingers under my top and pulling it up and off me as well. “Do you think that doing more stuff with me will…somehow make things any worse than they already are for you, in the eyes of Heaven?”

  Gabe stared at me, incredulously, and I was glad I finally got him to look. “Swallowing the baloney…” He shook his head, seemingly barely able to suppress a little laugh. “Did you just make that up? Do you have a list of those euphemisms hidden somewhere?”

  “You’re deflecting,” I said, unhooking my bra and tossing it playfully over my back. “What? Don’t want your, you know…Heaven buddies watching you nail a succubus in the shower?”

  “I…I don’t think I do,” said Gabe, squirming visibly.

  “Oh,” I said, wiggling my fingers into my jeans and giving them a little tug downward. I felt Juliet’s pen in the back pocket as they descended. “I just assumed that’s how they would know. I’m just not sure how you’re okay with a whole bunch of angels and creepy Cherubs watching you get off.”

  “That’s not how it works,” said Gabe, obviously becoming more flustered as he talked. “I…they just know. They don’t literally watch.”

  “So it’s totally okay for you to come in and shower with me, because the only ones here are going to be us?”

  He didn’t seem to have an answer to that.

  I slid my jeans down past my ankles, bending over as I did so. I could feel his eyes on me; feel that he wanted me, even though he knew he had to say no. My nature was as a temptress. This was what I was meant to do.

  I straightened up, kicked off my panties, and then slowly turned around.

  Yeah, he was definitely staring at my full frontal nudity. It was trashy as fuck but I loved it.

  “I spent some time in Australia,” I said, grinning widely, my hands on my hips. “There, they call a woman’s crotch her ‘Map of Tasmania’.”

  Gabe stuttered nervously.

  “Eh,” I said, “you have to have lived there to get it I guess.”

  “Or understand basic Australian geography,” said Gabe.

  I waited, just a little bit, to see if he would give in, but he didn’t. He was obviously sorely tempted; he stood there, wringing his hands and barely looking at me, and I knew I’d planted the seed of future temptations.

  Carefully, I reached in and turned on the tap. “You do have spare clothes, though, right?” I asked, stepping into the shower. The hot water billowed into steam around me, fogging up the glass, and the filth and grime splattered onto my body.

  “Yeah,” said Gabe, retreating backward out of the bathroom. “I’ll go get you some.”

  “Giving me some would be nice,” I teased, right as he closed the door.

  The warm water felt good over my skin. I scrubbed my arms, legs, and body, running my hands through my hair, straining out the brown grime and watching it circle around the drain. I lathered on some soap, washed it off, then applied another round. My nose tingled and finally the stink began to reside. Gabe passed a clean set of clothes through a crack in the door, still unable to look at me. I was able to provoke that level of embarrassment while I was covered in literal sewer water. I wonder what I could accomplish when I was clean?

  I couldn’t help but smile. Things were actually looking up.

  Then the whole room started to shake, gently at first, then more intensely. The soap fell off the holder and onto the floor. The water shook. The glass rattled.

  Louder.

  Shaking Things Up

  Heaven’s safe house

  Near Damien’s Place

  New Jersey

  An earthquake? I wasn’t sure if they were common in New Jersey. Maybe they were.

  I shut off the shower. The rumbling faded, quiet returning to the neighbourhood, with nothing but the dripping water around me and the distant noise of police sirens.

  Asmodeus fluttered into the shower. “What the fuck was that?” he asked, frowning at me. “What did you do?”

  “Me?” That question made no sense. “I’m not the queen of earthquakes. I didn’t make that happen.”

  He hesitated for a moment, as though trying to discern if what I was saying was the truth or not, but then he shrugged it off. “Probably just an earthquake,” he said, with a suspicious lack of conviction.

  “What else do you think it could be?” I asked, opening up the shower and stepping out, grabbing a towel. “Do you think it’s something to worry about?”

  “No,” said Asmodeus, then seemingly revised his position. “And yes. You think it’s a coincidence that this happened, right as the nephilim got involved?”

  I towelled off my hair. “I don’t really know much about them,” I said. “Knowledge is for imps. Seduction and influence is for succubi. They are not my area of expertise.”

  Asmodeus reluctantly beat his wings, floating over and settling on the edge of the sink. “Nephilim means giant,” he said, “they’re a race of beings devoted to preserving the balance on the mortal realm. They can shift their form, or part thereof, in size; becoming tiny as a fingernail, or big as a house, or bigger.” He groaned. “They are…not stupid, but they aren’t very clever either. They have a very simplistic view of the world.”

  “Sounds familiar,” I said, glancing to the door.

  “Yeah.”

  I ran the towel over my body then tossed it away in frustration. I couldn’t help but shake a dark feeling in my gut. “Did…did I really fuck everything up?” I asked, simply.

  Asmodeus narrowed his red little eyes at me. For a moment, I thought he was going to be blunt and angry, but instead, he seemed to relax. “Eh. If you hadn’t killed Damien he was likely fucked anyway. He’s third generation rich and his parents had never instilled in him a respect for money and an understanding of i
nvestments, returns, and finance. His understanding of money was limited to ‘it never runs out’. You know what they say…the first generation sows it, the second generation grows it, and the third generation blows it. In all likelihood he would have died poor and bitter and alone.”

  Convincing, but not quite. “Still,” I said.

  “Look. The truth is. You did fuck up. Quite a lot. No shit, right? But he was drugging chicks at parties, and the sooner he came to visit us in the dark, hot place, the sooner we’d be able to have a little fun with him. Right? And the point is…we can fix it. We can fix this. We can fix all of this. And, you know, you can work on your anger issues some other time.”

  It wasn’t really anger issues I didn’t think. Okay. I had to admit that maybe I was impulsive, even reckless, and I probably had some problems controlling my temper when I felt manipulated. I was a demon, sure, but I could admit that much. Reluctantly.

  Before I could say more, the ground shook again. Asmodeus and I exchanged a cautious look.

  “Okay,” said Asmodeus, holding up his hands. “Maybe we can’t fix this.”

  “Feels like it’s getting closer,” I said, touching the glass. It shook slightly against my hand. “We should consider getting out of here.”

  “Get dressed,” said Asmodeus, urgency filling his tiny voice. “Quick. Quick!”

  I snatched up the bundle of clothes, socks spilling onto the wet tiled floor. I pulled up the set of short pants—I wonder why Gabe had picked these?—and jammed on a t-shirt. There was a new hoodie, a replacement one in my size. I pulled it on too. It was black and had inscribed upon it in white letters, Daddy’s Little Angel.

  Despite another distant thump growing worrying closer, I couldn’t help but snort at that.