Dying to Live: The Shifter City Complete Series

by Liam Kingsley

  Logan nodded. “You wanted to,” he repeated. “What else do you want, Hail?”

  Hail paused, his emotions quivering, on the cusp of something real. If he hadn’t been drinking, he would have said something sassy. Food, a million dollars, any number of verbal dodges. Now, he was emboldened, reckless.

  “You,” he said, his heart thundering in his chest. “All I want is you.”

  “Even after…?”

  “Especially after. I understand, Logan. You think I’m all sheltered and everything, but I had a life before Regis Thyme. It wasn’t a good one. Even in Regis Thyme…everyone’s hurting. Nobody volunteered to go there, you know. We’re all Lost Boys. Like you.”

  Logan stared at him for a beat, then his eyes changed. He kissed him fiercely, and Hail opened to him. There was a vulnerability in Logan’s groping hands and searching lips that Hail hadn’t felt the first time they’d touched this way, and it only made Hail want to give him more. Their clothes fell away, or were pulled away; Hail wasn’t really paying attention. The instant their bare chests touched, his thoughts stopped entirely. He was all instinct and passion and something bordering on love, and he held Logan tight as his hands and mouth played over his body. He kissed each scar on Logan’s shoulders, kissed the face of the demon ripping through his chest, and lay his lover in the grass to taste every inch of him. The velvety skin of his erect cock was like heaven against Hail’s lips, and the gasps and moans from Logan’s throat drove him mad.

  Logan grabbed him, pulling him up so he could kiss his mouth again. Hail cradled him, feeling the vibrations of his raw, exposed emotional core lash the space between them. He held him gently and kissed him firmly, his lust quieting in the face of Logan’s need. They moved together, rocking through the surge of emotion to the other side. Logan’s face was wet with tears once more, and Hail kissed them away. Eyes locked and limbs entwined, they inched ever closer to completing the connection, kissing and writhing together. A gasp, a frozen second in time as Hail hovered at Logan’s entrance, and it was done.

  Hail swelled within him, locking them together. Logan kissed him frantically, his mouth, face, throat, ears, everywhere he could reach. Slow and steady, frantic and fast, they pitched through the swells and valleys of the emotional storm. Logan’s pulse quickened under Hail’s mouth as a growl ripped from his throat. He was shimmering on the edge of the change. Hail bit him hard, hard enough to drag him back, but it didn’t last. Hail stopped moving entirely, freezing inside of Logan, and steadied his own breathing. It took everything in him not to plunge hard into Logan and take whatever may come, but he wouldn’t put another death on Logan’s conscience. He trembled as Logan fought for control, struggling with his own internal battle.

  “Fight it,” he whispered hoarsely. “For the love of dog, Logan, fight it.”

  A chuckle broke through, low as thunder at first, then rising to a natural, human sound. Logan turned his golden eyes to Hail’s face just as they turned over to brown, and he smiled.

  “Dog is the safe word,” he whispered, amused.

  “Good to know.” Hail coughed a desperate laugh. He was pulsing and throbbing, every fiber of his being threatened to explode if he didn’t finish what they’d started. Logan took a deep breath and solidified in human form.

  “I’m safe,” he promised as he nuzzled Hail’s neck. “Fuck me.”

  The dam broke and Hail plunged, sinking into Logan deeper and deeper, locking into a primal rhythm. Moans turned to growls and growls to screams as they tumbled over the edge, spilling into a passionate ecstasy. They lay there together for a long time, heads spinning with alcohol and after glow, their spirits empty and light, intoxicated by the verbal purge. Hail kissed Logan’s face, and Logan traced his fingers lightly across Hail’s shoulders. He paused and pulled away with a confused frown.

  “Your back,” he said.

  “What about it?” Hail asked.

  “It’s….” Logan ran his fingers up and down Hail’s back once more, searching for the word. “Stripey,” he finished lamely.

  “Tonight was for your scars,” Hail said. “We’ll do mine some other time.”

  Logan didn’t answer. He trailed his fingers over Hail’s scars and sighed, then the sigh morphed into a yawn. Hail stroked Logan’s hair and kissed his head, and before either of them knew what was happening, they’d fallen into a deep sleep. Dreamless and free of terror, they slept intertwined in the long grass until the icy chill of early morning forced them awake. They groped around in the inky blackness for their clothes, pulling them on haphazardly. Hail still felt very drunk. His mouth felt like cotton and his head was beginning to pound.

  “Think I need another drink,” he muttered as he tugged his second shoe on.

  “Of water,” Logan told him. “And something made of bread.”

  “Bread and water? What is that, some kind of nineteenth century punishment?”

  “Yes,” Logan said, deadpan. “It’s also the only thing that’ll keep you from getting a hangover.”

  “Oh. Yeah, let’s do that.”

  They stumbled through the pitch black field to the picnic table. Hail sat heavily, cradling his head in his hands.

  “Van’s right there,” Logan said.

  “One more step, I’ll puke. Or die.”

  Logan laughed and walked away, leaving Hail to argue with his belly. A few moments later Logan returned with a bottle of water and a sandwich.

  “Don’t know how good it’s gonna be,” Logan said doubtfully. “It was one of the ones they packed for us back at RT.”

  “RT?”

  “Regis Thyme,” Logan said. “I like the acronym better. Less pomposity on my tongue.”

  Hail snorted and dug into his sandwich. It did make him feel better, and the water tasted like angel’s tears. He sighed, feeling infinitely more alive. He started clearing empties off the table as Logan put the unused bottles back in the bags. They’d only touched about half of the haul, which surprised Hail slightly. With as drunk as he’d felt, he imagined that he would have been responsible for more than half all on his own. He shook his head at his own inexperience. Once the table was clear and the bottles were bagged, they walked to the van and stumbled inside.

  Mariella and Robert were asleep on one bunk, wrapped around one another. Hail would have grinned at the sight if he hadn’t been so damn tired. As it was, he barely had the energy to fold down another bunk before he collapsed on it.

  “Room for two,” he mumbled. He fell asleep without knowing whether or not Logan accepted his offer.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Logan watched the sun come up from the hood of the truck. He was still drinking. He’d never stopped. He’d also managed to work halfway through Mariella’s second pack, which she’d left on the table in her hurry to move on from George. He’d heard Hail’s invitation, and for a moment he’d been tempted; but there was something gnawing at his mind, and he wouldn’t be able to sleep until he’d decided what to do about it. As self-destruction was always his first response to any crisis; he continued the party solo as the birds began to sing up the sun.

  Echoes of the night before flitted through his mind. Things he’d told Hail that he’d never told anyone else. Hail’s reaction, so different from what he’d expected. He’d been trying to run him off, trying to make him see how stupid it was to have feelings for him. He tore people apart, just like everything he touched. But Hail hadn’t run. Hail had just been there, listening and waiting, as Logan turned himself inside out.

  “That’s because you’re stupid,” he muttered to himself as he finished a bottle. “Stupid, stupid, Logan.”

  “That’s enough of that for you,” Mariella said, making him jump. He hadn’t heard her come out of the van, and she hadn’t made a sound on the thick, dewy grass. “Hand over the rest of those, we’ve got a trip ahead of us today.”

  “And that makes it different from yesterday because…?”

  “Uh, because I slept? And stuff,” she added wit
h a cheeky grin. “And now I know where we are, and exactly where we’re going next.”

  “And where’s that?” Logan asked dully.

  “My old home base! We’re like eight hours away, max. I’m not about to wait for everybody, either, so go wake up your boy, get him behind the wheel because you’re drunk as hell, and let’s go!”

  “What about your boy?” Logan asked with a slight smile.

  She grinned and tossed her hair. “He’s exhausted. Can’t imagine why.” She winked, and Logan chuckled in spite of himself.

  “Alright, bossy pants,” he said, sliding off the hood.

  “Excuse you? That’s Alpha Bossy Pants, thank you very much.”

  “My bad,” Logan said, raising his hands in surrender. “Alpha Bossy Pants. Shall I send your royal escort out?”

  “Well, don’t make him sound like a hooker,” she laughed, her cheeks blushing red. “Yeah, send the idiot out. And wake your boy up, we ain’t got all day.”

  “Yes, my liege,” he said with an exaggerated bow.

  She rolled her eyes. “You’re a dork.”

  “Whatever, you love me.” Logan jogged over to the van and stepped in. “Rise and shine, buttercups, we got shit to do!”

  Snores answered him. Shrugging, Logan pulled a bottle of water out of the fridge and opened it, then turned to Robert’s cot.

  “Ice cold shower in three…two…one….” He dumped the bottle on Robert’s head. Robert gasped, jumped to his feet, hit his head on the ceiling, and fell to the floor. The noise woke Hail with a start.

  “Two birds, one stone,” Logan grinned. “Get up, gang, Alpha Bossy Pants has a plan.”

  “What the hell, Logan?” Robert whimpered, rubbing his head. “Was that even called for?”

  “Yep! Mariella says jump, we jump. Or you do, anyway. Right into the roof. Oh quit whining, she’s waiting for you. I bet if you hurry she’ll let you lick her boots before we leave.”

  Robert glared at him and flushed. He pushed to his feet with a string of curse words, then pushed past Logan and out the door. Logan snickered as he watched him go, then turned to Hail. “You’re gonna have to drive,” he told him. “Mariella’s orders.”

  “Pretty sure those orders come from higher up,” Hail said, wrinkling his nose. “Did you ever stop drinking?”

  “Hell no,” Logan said. “Why stop when there’s still booze? Come on, let’s go, she says there’s a camp nearby.”

  “If it’s so close, couldn’t it have waited?” Hail yawned.

  “Relatively close, in the grand scheme of things,” Logan amended. “But what’s eight or nine hours between friends?”

  “You’re in a mood,” Hail grumbled. “Is there coffee?”

  “How exactly would there be coffee?” Logan asked, raising an eyebrow.

  Hail answered with a long, irritated look. He sighed, stood up, and walked over to the tap which sat next to the fridge. Three taps, in fact, in blue, red, and orange. Hail grabbed a travel mug out of a drawer, then pushed down on the orange lever. Steaming hot coffee poured out, filling the cup just over halfway. He topped it off with ridiculous amounts of caramel creamer from a jug in the fridge, stirred it, and capped it.

  “Coffee,” he said shortly.

  “Well, shit,” Logan said disgustedly. “If I’d known about that last night….”

  “What? You would have really, really stayed up all night?”

  “You,” Logan said thoughtfully, “are not a morning person.”

  “I am too,” Hail yawned. “I’m just not a hangover person.”

  “Nobody’s a hangover person. That’s why smart people stay drunk. Can’t get a hangover if you never stop drinking.”

  Hail gazed at him, deadpan, and sipped his coffee.

  “Well you’re no fun,” Logan said dismissively. “Drink more of that, Logan needs banter.”

  “Logan needs to not refer to himself in the third person.”

  “Hail needs to stop telling Logan what to do before Logan whips out the Yoda.”

  “You wouldn’t.”

  “Wouldn’t, you think? Know me not, you do!”

  “Shit.”

  “If shit you must, bathroom should you visit, hm?”

  “God save me from morning people,” Hail groaned, walking away toward the back of the van.

  “Hey, where are you going? Driver seat’s that way!”

  “Shit I must!”

  “Oh.” Logan grinned, then found another travel mug. He could not believe that he hadn’t known about the coffee in the door. Who puts coffee in a door?

  “Shifter scientists,” he answered himself. “Obviously.”

  He’d just finished doctoring his coffee when Hail returned, looking slightly more cheerful. He cocked his head at Logan thoughtfully for a moment.

  “What? Do I have something on my face?” Logan asked.

  “Not yet,” Hail said, his voice still low and crackling with sleep.

  “What do you mean, not yet? Talking in riddles is my thing, damn….”

  Hail interrupted him with a kiss, then pulled his head back sharply.

  “Good God, did you drink the rest of it?”

  “No,” Logan said defensively. “I left a bottle or two for you guys. To split,” he finished with a grin.

  Hail groaned and ran a hand over his face. They stepped out of the van together to talk to Mariella. She was sitting in the truck with Robert’s head in her lap, stroking his blonde curls.

  “So what’s the plan?” Hail asked, deliberately ignoring the intimacy that he’d just interrupted.

  “Hit the freeway, head south, then stay on my ass. Gonna be doing all kinds of fancy shmancy exchanges today.”

  “South for eight hours will take us to Texas,” Hail said, scratching his head. “Thought we were looking for water?”

  “That’s where the exchanges come in,” Mariella said firmly. “We ain’t going to Texas.”

  “Would help if I knew where I was going,” Hail said wryly. “And not to question your judgment or anything, but there’s got to be some shifter camps closer than that.”

  “Yeah,” she shrugged, crossing her arms. “And we’ll get to them. First, we get my people.”

  “Your…?”

  “My second family,” she said darkly. “Drive, follow, don’t ask stupid questions.”

  Hail ground the heel of his hand into his eye, then blew out a breath. “You’re the boss, boss.”

  “Damn straight. Let’s go.”

  “You grumpified her,” Logan said. “That’s a bad idea first thing in the morning.”

  “Well she grumpified me too,” Hail grumbled. “Why can’t she at least tell me what state we’re heading to?”

  “Probably because she doesn’t want you to know,” Logan said, nodding sagely.

  “No, really? I never would have guessed.”

  Logan smirked and slid in the passenger seat. “Don’t want stupid answers, don’t ask stupid questions.”

  “Well, come on. You know her, right? Known her for a while?”

  “Yeah.”

  “So where is she going?”

  “How the hell should I know?”

  “Because you know her, we established this.”

  Logan slapped a hand over his eyes and snickered. “God, you cannot be this dumb. Okay. Look at Mariella. What do you see?”

  “The back of her head and one angry eyeball in the mirror.”

  “Shit, I think I’m rubbing off on you. No, when you look at Mariella, what do you see?”

  “I don’t know…she’s well-proportioned. Pretty hair, pretty eyes, expressive face. Nice skin.”

  “You’re impossible,” Logan sighed. “Alright, when she talks, what accent do you think she speaks with?”

  “Heavily Californian,” Hail said decisively. “And some of something else.”

  Logan stared at Hail, dumbfounded. Could he really not see what he was getting at? Hail took a long swallow of coffee before they hit the highway
, and kept nursing it once they’d got on. Logan kept staring, waiting for the light bulb.

  “Oh! She’s Hispanic!” Hail said suddenly.

  Logan sighed, shaking his head in disappointment. “No, dimbulb, she’s Latina. Mexican, to be precise. She taught us all how to live off the radar before Bart even thought of the idea. She’s damn good at it, too, you know why?”

  “I’m afraid to guess.”

  “Then you already did,” Logan said. “And managed to get it right. Good, I was starting to worry that you’d permanently damaged your brain cells.”

  “One night can do that?” Hail asked, horrified.

  “Not with what you were doing. If you’re interested, though, I can tell you…”

  “No! No, I’m good.”

  Logan laughed, and Hail socked him playfully.

  “You’re an ass,” he said.

  “A piece of one, anyway,” Logan chuckled.

  Hail fell silent, an odd look crossing his face. Logan didn’t ask why. They were past all that. Hail was a big boy, he knew how to talk.

  “That’s not how I see you, you know,” Hail said finally.

  “Then you’re blind as well as dumb. You probably shouldn’t be driving. Gimme the wheel.”

  “Get back, you drunk idiot,” Hail laughed, pushing Logan back into his seat. “I mean it. That’s not what you are to me.”

  “Pretty sure you wouldn’t know a one night stand if you had two of them,” Logan said dryly.

  Hail shot him a look. “You might be surprised,” he said.

  “Oh really? You expect me to believe that someone like you, in a town that small, would risk his reputation on a one night stand?”

  Hail shrugged. “Reputation isn’t real important to me. Not my personal reputation, anyway. Professional, absolutely. Thing is, Logan, that town is weird. It’s not like some sitcom suburban wonderland, and it’s not a shifter utopia. The only families are the ones we built together after the fact. Broderick and Sven are the exception, not the rule. Families disowned their shifters, or didn’t know about it, or were killed in the initial rampage. Everybody who came to Regis Thyme was a fractured bit of something else. There’s a deep pain there that no number of spiritual healing classes or Zen gardens or easy meals will heal.”