20 Shades of Shifters: A Paranormal Romance Collection

by Demelza Carlton

  Someone behind Jonas coughed.

  Davin eyed the smart ass, his chin jutting up before he blew out a breath. “Anyway, word came down from another group tired of being in Faery that the Queen is shipping out new bikes to another MC. Why is it we’ve been here three years and are just now hearing about this other MC?”

  “Heard that they only come around when she orders them to.”

  Eyes wide, Jonas turned toward Cristin and flashed him his best tooth-bearing smile. “You’re just now telling us this?”

  “Yeah. The introduction of motorcycle culture wasn’t our doing, either. But so what? Davin is right. The Queen ordering them only washes so far.”

  “You should have shared the knowledge.” Jonas frowned and sat back.

  “We knew we weren’t the only MC in Faery, ever since being forced here. Where there are cages, there are motorcycles and the Fae are not that different from other creatures. It makes no difference. Our needs for returning home have been all that should have mattered.” Cristin shook his head. “We were not the first, merely the loudest.”

  “Indeed. But what further news has come down the pipeline?”

  Jonas eyed Davin, irritation permeating his pores. The revelation over his bond with his sister when he woke didn’t help matters. Gritting his teeth, he spoke low.

  “We have no real allies here. Everything we have done in the last three years has been to keep our dwindling blood supply in check and get what cash we can. The Fae have set up a capitalist system that doesn’t allow for much, unlike our lands with our peasants, the numerous humans stupid enough to get sucked into our realm through their own devices, and other bullshit. The reverse version of Earth, with us on top, makes sense.”

  Cristin steepled his fingers and eyed Jonas over the tops of them. “Sure. Human population will continue to expand, but if our Queen gets her guard back, then we can keep them in check.”

  “With no further need for money.”

  “Not if we want to live exclusively in the Shadowlands.”

  Jonas turned toward Davin and Rasputin. “Well?”

  “My question is, why in the hell are the Fae using modern earth realm transportation to move shit across their lands?” Rasputin eyed the others around the table.

  Bogart the Blunt growled. “You’d think you’d all know with all the fucking exploring and riding we do around these lands.”

  Everyone looked at Bogart. “Are you making a point, as usual, Bogart?” Davin leaned in, his presence looming larger than Jonas had ever seen.

  “I’m saying, we’ve fucking lost members since we’ve been here. Our kind.” He pounded his chest. “A few of us have been hunted down. A few of us have shacked up with the Fae from time to time—”

  “Feeding is not shacking up.”

  Bogart pointed a long bony finger at Cristin. “You’re the worst. I have seen you cavorting with some of the female Fae. I smell them on you. It reeks of unnatural waste.”

  Cristin’s cracked his knuckles and leaned in toward Bogart. “Have a care, fat man.”

  The big man cracked his knuckles. “None of us wants to be here, yet it’s taken us three years to only now hear about some tosser magic that’ll help us breach a realm door? I’m calling bullshit.”

  “Be that as it may,” Davin’s voice rose, “we have made friendly alliances with some of the more duplicitous of Fae.”

  Bogart’s thick brows narrowed. “Can you trust those magic users not to deceive us? The entire Fae culture is predicated upon misdirection in order to prank one. All for a laugh. What are we succumbing to?”

  “Necessity is the mother of invention.” Jonas understood his anger and did his best to stay calm.

  “Motherfucker of invention. Jonas, with all we have to lose by not being home, look at us now. We’re gaunt compared to how we used to be. The Fae blood does not suit us. It taints our heritage.”

  Rasputin’s voice cut through the low rumble of discontent. “I did not hear you come up with a better idea. Unless?”

  Bogart shook his head.

  “I did not think so.” Rasputin leaned back, his shoulders tight, tension pouring off him in waves heavy enough that Jonas felt the need to edge his chair a little closer to Cristin’s.

  He focused instead on what he’d heard. “And what are we going to heist? Shall it be like taking candy from the baby? Because the ugly Fae have been seen, and it’s near the time of year where the veil thins, and more will come. The horrific creatures seek to terrify those of us in the outlying regions. For the last three years we have been the victims of their torment, have we not?”

  “Be that as it may,” Pliny finally spoke up, “we are still brothers in arms. And our struggles have made us stronger as we grow older. Shall we not move forward, past our differences?”

  Davin slammed his hand on the table. “Pliny is right. Four of us in this room have gained two thousand years old. Bogart ranks up there with us, and his rage is felt by all. Shared by all.”

  Jonas could see that. Most of the vampires in the room pushed upward of eight hundred years. Him? Maybe three oh five. He’d lost track after the first century. He rested his forearms on the table, fingers interlocking tightly.

  Jonas lifted his chin to the rest of them. “Are we going to talk about the main issue here? The reason Davin called this session?”

  “You’re wondering what it is we’re heisting this time? We are in the best of luck. A shipment of motorcycles, infused with Fae magic, are coming down a main highway in this region. The magic they have will get us back home, if we can get our hands on them. Once home, sell them, or we’ll figure out how to clone them and sell the clones. Ideas?” Davin’s voice remained tight.

  Jonas stirred in his chair. He didn’t care about any of that shit. What mattered to him was getting back in time to see his sister before it was too late.

  Davin eyed him. “Pray tell, Jonas, share what’s on your mind?”

  Jonas leaned back in his seat, stretched his legs out beneath the table and rested his clasped hands together on the table. “I want the same thing we all want. To get out of this fucking realm, live out the rest of our lives and ride as long as we can.” He wouldn’t say anything about his sister to the club. They didn’t need to know about his personal life. “Are we going to get this fucking show on the road?”

  “Alas, ever the vulgar, Jonas. Yet, we shall.” Davin pulled out a large sketchbook. “This is the makeshift drawing of the area with the roads as far as we have traveled. The truck will be heading due south. If we strike it, we can steal the bikes, and return to our lands tomorrow night.”

  “And our Vampire Queen will have her loyal guard once again.”

  Rolling his eyes, Bogart rested his chin on his knuckles. “Are we sure we want to go down that route after the last three years? Surely she’s replaced us by now.”

  Rasputin pointed a finger at every vampire in the room, aggression coming from him in waves. “Do we really give a fuck? We are royalty, and as our rightful place, belong as such in our homelands. These borderlands,” he spread his hands wide, “this mess of a realm, is not one that is welcome to our kind. Were you not just spouting the credits of leaving here?” His eyes narrowed, lips formed a tight line.

  “Indeed, I was. But to return to another farce?”

  Davin drew himself up. “Are you doubting our Queen?”

  “We are outlaws now. We serve no one, man or beast. I have tasted freedom here, such as it is.”

  Rasputin nodded thoughtfully. “Upon that I concur, Bogart. Yet how shall we regain our former status once we return?”

  “Fuck that shit.” He cut his hand through the air. “We are outlaws now. We don’t need status quo. We need to do like we’ve done the last seven years of this club’s existence, and take what is ours.”

  Davin eyed the big man. “Taking what’s ours means we retake our rightful places as royalty.”

  Bogart scoffed, baring his fangs. Tension in the room grew thicker. �
��You merely wish to return to your wife. Speak candidly, man. Else the ranks will feel you are full of shit.”

  Before Jonas could blink, Davin was on Bogart, lifting him out of the chair, his hand around the man’s throat, shoving him hard enough into the plaster wall that he left a dent. “Do you think I kid when I say I want to return as bad as the rest of you wretches?”

  Rasputin and Cristin moved, grabbing Davin by the shoulders and tearing him from Bogart.

  “Have a care, Prez. It’s just him running his mouth. And it’s not like we all don’t know it. We miss home. Some of us have families still.”

  Jonas tensed at Cristin’s mention of family. He eyed the other vampire darkly.

  Cristin released the Prez and backed away.

  Bogart scowled and took his chair once more.

  Davin shook Rasputin off and made his way back to his seat, adjusting his cut as he sat down. He looked around the room, meeting everyone’s eyes before settling on Jonas and holding his gaze in that creepy way old vampires sometimes did. “Motion in play?”

  Forcing himself to meet Davin’s piercing gaze, Jonas lifted a hand. “Second it. Name it.”

  “We hit that truck and return hastily to our homelands on the stolen motorcycles.”

  “Second.” Rasputin lifted a hand.

  “All in favor?”

  A round of solemn ayes came from the eight members in the room.

  Davin banged the gavel. “Ayes have it. Now, we need to do some recon, because that truck isn’t supposed to be here until tomorrow night.”

  “Sure, you want one of us to just go out in the daytime and scope out the fucking area?” Cristin snorted.

  Davin’s eyes narrowed. “Your attempts at levity are far from appreciated, secretary. But you have a point. Therefore, Jonas and Rasputin, the route we are aiming to strike at is not far from here, and you two shall seek the best plan of attack.”

  Jonas and Rasputin nodded.

  “The rest of us will secure the proper provisions to do what is necessary to acquire and abscond with said motorcycles, with either relative safety or maximum carnage to the enemy as we see fit. Am I clear?”

  The rest of the members nodded and the gavel banged once again.

  “Verily, we will reconvene just before their day star rises.”

  Jonas and the rest of the club stood and headed toward the exit. Tension still followed, each of the members reacting to Bogart’s bullshit, but that would settle after time had passed.

  Jonas strode down the long hallway into the open area by the bar. Bracing himself against it, he waited for Rasputin to catch up. Jonas would defer to the VP to take the lead on this when they checked out the routes.

  Rasputin came out a moment later, a worried look on his face. Eyes shifted from side to side before settling on Jonas. He motioned toward the building’s exit.

  Jonas followed along until the two of them were outside and by the bikes. He rested against his bike, crossing his arms. “Well?”

  Rasputin quickly gave his thin gray goatee two quick strokes and slid on his helmet. “Not now. Follow me.”

  The two pulled out of the parking lot. Jonas kept a close distance to Rasputin, moving down the long, dark highway, scanning the area he’d ridden down so many times before.

  Half an hour later, they’d stopped and pulled over onto the side of the highway. Jonas took his helmet off and set it on his seat while remaining a few feet behind Rasputin.

  He looked around. “We’re at the changing territory lands, no?”

  “We are.”

  “Is this where we want to hit them?”

  “Look around. The land over there,” he pointed toward the east, “is the thickest of forests. A semi-truck cannot go through that if forced off the road. And to the west, we have the Changing Lands.”

  Ah yes. The name the vampires gave to the land that seemed to shift forms before their very eyes, with apparently no rhyme or reason for the shift.

  “Is it friendly to the Fae?”

  Rasputin shrugged. “I really do not know. We have all seen the various shifts of the land. But I have been the primary creature of interest when the Fae raided my place of slumber. It was a lucky thing that the sun wasn’t up, else I’d be dead. Bogart the Blunt was also attacked, on another occasion, while hunting for sustenance.”

  “Fuck.”

  “Your use of the human vulgarity is properly placed, Jonas. Our biggest fear however, isn’t so much the sun or even the magic lands. Faeries abound who wish not only to do us harm, but who live off the souls.”

  Jonas snorted. “You’d think by the grace, or lack thereof, of God, we’d be spared.”

  “True, but no. I haven’t brought this to the club yet, but I have seen demon-like creatures swoop down from the heavens and steal away our brethren. We are not the only undead in this territory, but our numbers are small. I wanted to confer with mine own eyes that I was seeing these creatures, and I have been proven true in this.

  “Then why didn’t you bring it up tonight?”

  “Davin knows.”

  Jonas scoffed. “A lot of good knowledge that we do not have does us, if we’re to steal this truck tomorrow. If the demon-creatures are a danger, we all should know.”

  Rasputin scratched the back of his neck, brushing his hair out of the way before meeting Jonas’ stare. “Alas, I can tell you I have seen specters most frightful. If the truck passes through here during one of their swarms, we are foiled.”

  Jonas pinched the bridge of his nose, biting back irritation. First, Rasputin and Davin’s frequent use of Olde English grated on his nerves. Always had. Second, time was of the essence. “We don’t have time to worry about bullshit like ghosts or specters, Rasputin. Next, we deal in hard facts. When are we doing this and how?”

  Rasputin waved a hand. “Here, where the Changing Lands and the forest meet, where the forest becomes thicker and more prominent. We can lead the truck off the path, else the Faery driving it is a murderer, and even though we have few rights, if word got back to the Court on either side? War could be declared.”

  “This does not concern me. Nor us. It would be better to strike the vehicle hard, disable it, restrain the driver and steal the bikes.”

  “Perhaps not. What of our rides?” He tugged on the sleeve of his leather jacket and adjusted the way his cut hung on his shoulders. “What shall we do with them?”

  “Bats.” He shrugged. “Or ravens. I prefer being a raven, myself.”

  Rasputin quirked his manicured brow. “I beg your pardon?”

  Jonas rolled his eye. “We’re fucking vampires. We ride because human tradition forced us to change a hundred years ago, and we jumped into the counter-culture to blend in until we wound up here. You and Davin, alike. Have you forgotten we can storm the skies?”

  “You have a good point.” His eyes lit up as much as darkness would allow.

  “Are we going to listen to rumor and hyperbole? Or are we going to plan based on fact?”

  The fact was, Jonas needed the driver alive. The cure for his ailing sister was in the Fae blood, and without contact, without draining at least some portion of the poor sap, he’d be left without anything to take back to the Shadowlands.

  “I dare say I do not trust anything I have not verified with mine own eyes.”

  “And I feel you, man. I get it. But…” he hesitated. Rasputin was a brother. They all were. Since having forced the motorcycle club and thievery partnership, all eight of them had become a band of brothers, above anything and anyone else.

  “You are hiding a secret from a brother.”

  Rasputin wasn’t questioning it, he was stating a fact.

  “True. Outside of you, Cristin knows. My sister needs me. She has fallen ill. It is imperative to keep the driver alive so I can get what I need from him, before we disappear back to home.” Else, he left out, this would all be in vain, and vampires didn’t do shit in vain.

  Well, he didn’t anyway.

  Rasput
in frowned. “How sure are you that this driver can give you what you need?”

  “I’m not. But Faery is a land full of mystery. Just as you and I are animated by some unknown source, so much the Fae have their magic and remedies. At the very least, there has to be a doctor, a magician, someone who can help me.”

  “Aye, verily.” He sighed, crossed his arms over his large chest and looked at the ground, then back at Jonas. “What shall we do then, Jonas? If you have a plan, speak plainly and true.”

  Leaning back against his bike, Jonas looked around. The land in front of him was shifting again without reason. Hills were slowly forming, trees were sprouting. Then the ground rumbled and the hills shot up to be mountains that stirred the land beneath them. They rode the ground’s movement with ease.

  The trees behind them swayed to and fro, and a hearty wind rushed down the road before the rumbling ceased and silence fell like the dead.

  Jonas sighed. “We can’t count on the land to cooperate with us. Where is an earlier choke point?”

  “Back several miles near the swamp, perhaps.”

  “Where those little, violent, no-nose-having fuckers are?”

  “As you so crudely put it, yes. I believe they are called brownies.”

  Jonas shuddered. He’d encountered a few of them one night while trying to feed in a nearby village. Rather mischievous at first glance, but the hollowed-out look of their eyes gave only the briefest of warnings before they started to ascend on whatever prey they had trapped.

  Jonas had watched from the trees, his bike hidden just far enough that he could leap through the branches and get to it if they spotted him. “Back there would be a better bet.”

  “Pray tell, why?”

  “What did your form look like as a bat?” The older vamp most likely would have chosen a bat, rather than a raven.

  “It’s been several centuries since I’ve shifted. I hardly recall.”

  “I suggest, before you retire for the evening, you remember how to shift. If we stray the skies in force, all fifteen of us, large wings spread, we can keep the brownies away. They will fear the sight of us in our other form. Then we can secure and stop the vehicle with superior strength, steal the cargo and ride off after I take what I need from the driver.”