Shifter Secrets: Shifter Romance Collection

by Juniper Hart

  Adrienne was not being brought to the house as their “child.” She was being brought in as Nora’s replacement, just as Nora had replaced the last girl.

  She had never been Jerome’s lover. She had only ever been his captive.

  The realization caused her to swoon, having to lean against Jerome so that she wouldn’t fall, but not nearly as much as the understanding that she had absolutely no idea who she really was.

  “It is time to go, chérie,” Jerome said. “Say goodbye to Adrienne.”

  “Goodbye,” Nora whispered as the girl stared on, her eyes bugging from her face.

  Nora could feel the panic emanating Adrienne, and as she followed Jerome out of the dank cellar, both women seemed to have precisely the same thought: how long would it be before they died at the hands of a madman?

  6

  “Where are you?”

  Nora turned in a full circle, unsure of where his voice came from. It didn’t matter how much he cried out to her, she could not seem to see him.

  “Who are you?” she called out to him again, and the question filled him with despair.

  How could she have forgotten me?

  It was something he had never considered. They had been fated for hundreds of years, and suddenly, in a mere decade, she had seemed to have forgotten who he was.

  He shook his head.

  “Don’t say you have forsaken me, Nora!” he screamed, reaching for her face. Nora floundered around as if she were blind, their arms never touching. “I am right here, just as I’ve always been!”

  “I know you, but at the same time I don’t!” she wailed, her voice filled with worry and fear. “You must leave before he finds you, too!”

  What was she so afraid of? Who was she afraid of?

  “Come back to me,” he begged her. “We will never be apart again, I promise!”

  “I cannot,” she told him. “I will be killed.”

  The words sent a shiver of apprehension through his spine.

  “Where are you?” he demanded, more urgency in his voice. “Nora, where have you been?”

  But she was gone again, barely out of his reach, and he was left alone in the blackness of the dream, calling out for her.

  Ansel opened his eyes, blinking worriedly and sitting up. His dreams had become more intense and more frequent over the past few days, filling his mind with dread. In the past, when he and Nora had been apart, he had dreamt with her, sometimes as their only form of communication. But since she had disappeared, he had not found her in his subconscious.

  Ansel had reasoned that she had blocked him from entering her dreams, still believing he had turned his back on her, but it had never occurred to him that she had been in any danger.

  Until now.

  Ansel rose from the bed and stalked toward the hotel window. He would only be in Las Vegas for three more nights to fight one last match and tie up the paperwork involved, but after he was done, he would return to Europe and find Nora.

  What has she become so involved with that she cannot escape? he wondered, trying to imagine any situation where his strong and stubborn Nora would be afraid. In seven centuries, he had never known Nora to show any kind of fear—only determination to do whatever she must. She was far too independent, far too full of confidence and life.

  Ansel shook his head again. His dreams were not connected to each other, nor were they connected to Nora. They were a product of his conscience, of his guilt at having waited until the last minute to do what he needed to be with her. Nora was a dragon. There was nothing in the world that could feel her with such terror. Even as a little girl, she had always been braver than all the other boys.

  Still, Ansel could not help but feel that she was calling out for him.

  When I am done here, I will make every effort to find her, he vowed. If she wishes to be found.

  He turned back toward the bed and reached for his laptop. He had unfinished business he had to attend to first.

  He logged on, punching in his password, and and he searched for the mobster who had been determined to make his life miserable.

  Tony just couldn’t leave well enough alone, Ansel sighed. Some people are just gluttons for punishment.

  When Tony Valducci had initially approached him to throw the match with Harley Calverson, Ansel had literally laughed in his face.

  “And why would I do that?” he had asked. “I am at the pinnacle of my career.”

  Valducci had laughed, too, but there had been no mirth in his tone as he eyed Ansel with palpable disgust.

  “You ain’t gonna have a career if you’re dead,” he had retorted, glaring at Ansel with furious eyes. “You ain’t thinking about the big picture, kid.”

  “With all due respect, Mr. Valducci, if you aren’t much of a gambler, I suggest you find another foray.”

  Tony’s eyes had widened in shock. Ansel had doubted anyone had ever spoken to him like that. The gangster had stepped toward him, his eyes drilling into Ansel’s.

  “I’m gonna give you a little break because you’re not from around here,” Valducci spat. “I’m gonna assume that your sense of humor is different than mine. But if you don’t do as I ask, bad things will happen to you. That, I can promise you. I run this town, kid, and everything that happens inside it.”

  Ansel had swallowed a smile.

  “Your threat is duly noted, Mr. Valducci. Thank you for stopping by,” he had said, gesturing toward the dressing room door.

  Valducci had shaken his head. “You’re making a mistake, kid. You’ll see what will happen if your mess this up. It will come out of your pocket one way or another.”

  Ansel did not bother to answer, and he watched as Tony left the room, Luca in tow. He had known that Valducci would eventually return with a vengeance, but really, what could he possibly do to Ansel?

  I am indestructible, he thought, rolling his eyes. Better and stronger men than him have attempted to kill us, and they all failed. We have been stabbed, shot, and fired, yet we remain. A few mob kings are not going to scare me away from something I’ve worked a decade for. This is the first thing I’ve done on my own. I am not pissing it away because of a coward like Tony Valducci.

  As Ansel continued to search for information on Valducci, he found his mind wandering back to Nora again.

  He reminded himself that they were indestructible. In seven centuries, they had never been defeated, despite Opal’s assurances that they could be both injured and killed. Of course, she had relished the power she had over them, lording her knowledge and magic like an incentive to keep her alive.

  It had only worked for so long. King Rui had finally tired of her and strung her from the castle gates to die of exposure in the dead of winter.

  Sometimes, Ansel could still hear her cackling in the wind, despite her death five hundred years earlier.

  We should not have killed that devious old sage before she reversed our fate. We still do not know half of what we are meant to know.

  The curse was a double-edged sword, for certain. The immortality was both a gift and a curse; the power, incredible but dangerous.

  Could someone have found a way to hurt them? Could Nora be in danger? Had she been hurt?

  Ansel refused to acknowledge the creeping doubts in his mind. Surely, if she had been in peril, he would have sensed it years ago… wouldn’t he?

  I would wager that Nora is stronger than any of the males in our circle, he thought. I do not need to fret about her.

  The blackness of night was giving way to the brightness of dawn, but Ansel barely noticed it as he researched his latest nemesis. He would deal with Tony Valducci and then find Nora, as he should have done years ago. He would finally set things right between them—if she would have him.

  Even in the light of day, Las Vegas was brightly lit, and Ansel marvelled at its reluctance to sleep as he soared through the wisps of desert clouds. His majestic wings flapped slightly, his massive form circling the area known as Surprise. Many sprawling houses li
ned the desert streets, and Ansel could see he was among the very wealthy.

  Surprise, indeed, he thought dryly, lowering his form toward the posh area. I hope Tony enjoys what I have to bring him.

  He could sense he was close to his destination, and as he flew toward the gated home, he allowed his body to fall back into his mortal form. His feet met the arid sidewalk, and Ansel paused, looking over his shoulder to see if he had been observed arriving. He could see no one, but he noticed the cameras witnessing his every move. He waved casually at the blinking red light and waited.

  As he expected, a low growl echoed from behind him, and he turned to face a salivating Rottweiler, licking his chops.

  “Hello, there,” Ansel said brightly.

  The dog bared his teeth, advancing slowly. Ansel did not move. He had no beef with the animal, and the canine was easy enough to sidestep.

  You’ve met your match, boy, he thought, narrowing his eyes despite the smile still on his face. The dog seemed to understand his words, and he slightly backed away, though he was still poised to strike. Ansel resisted the urge to pet him.

  After all, what he really wanted was Tony Valducci’s attention.

  Again, the animal growled, followed by a sharp bark. Suddenly, Luca appeared in the yard, his gun drawn.

  “How the hell did you get in here?” he demanded, hurrying toward Ansel. “Do you have a death wish?”

  Ansel shook his head. “I just wanted to deliver a message to Mr. Valducci. Is he home?”

  Luca narrowed his dark eyes. “Is it his money?”

  “It’s better than his money!” Ansel cheerfully assured the guard. “He’ll love this!”

  “Is he expecting you?”

  “Is he home?” Ansel repeated.

  Luca raised the gun.

  “No,” he replied slowly. “But you can wait for him inside. Come with me.”

  A series of sharp howls escaped the Rottweiler’s jowls, and Luca put a hand on his back to steady the animal.

  “I’m afraid I can’t stay,” Ansel told the bodyguard apologetically. “Will you give him a message from me?”

  Luca gazed at him uncomprehendingly. “What?”

  Ansel began to transition, his body growing into the giant form of his dragon, his head remaining human as he began to talk, towering over Luca.

  “Tell your boss that I do not take kindly to threats of any kind,” he snarled. “And if he feels the need to pursue this, his house will be the least of his concerns.”

  Luca’s face contorted in horror, disbelief painting him immobile.

  “It’s true! You’re the devil!” he gasped, backing away in terror as the dog began to howl with fright.

  Ansel hoped that the man had the presence of mind to clear the property of anyone inside, but it wasn’t his problem any longer. No one threatened him and walked away unscathed, much less men who had no qualms about hurting innocent people.

  I hope Valducci’s employees get danger pay, he thought coldly, his yellow eyes narrowing.

  He fell back against his enormous green tail and dropped his jaw, exposing a silver array of gnashing choppers. The dog whimpered and bolted, leaving Luca to gape at Ansel in shock. Two short puffs of steam snorted through Ansel’s nostrils, and he locked gazes with Valducci’s bodyguard. Ansel’s eyes glowed amber as he completed his transition into his dragon form.

  For a second, Ansel was certain the man was going to faint dead away on the pavement, but as he released the first stream of fire onto the ranch-style house, Luca turned to run.

  “Fire!” he screamed as Ansel inhaled for another round. “Fire! Get out of the house!”

  Ansel turned his head and sprayed another blast of heat toward the opposite side of the house before raising his massive form back into the air. Flapping away from the scene, he secretly hoped that he had not left any corpses in the house. After all, his quarrel was not with anyone but Valducci.

  If there were casualties, though, it would be collateral damage.

  It’s a risk you run when you work for a man like Valducci, Ansel thought, leaving the soot in his wake while he disappeared into the clouds.

  As he made his way back to the Bellagio, Ansel knew he had likely opened the door to further retaliation, but it didn’t bother him. At least Valducci knew that he would not bow down to bullying. And if he still continued to press the issue—even though Ansel hoped it wouldn’t come to it—he would have to kill the coward.

  I have killed for less, Ansel reasoned. He landed and shifted back before entering the hotel lobby. In three days, I will be back home, he thought. And this will just be another battle I won with my eyes closed.

  Climbing into the elevator, he pushed the button to the 31st floor. Then he held the doors open, Carrie’s words reverberating in his head.

  I’ll be at the hotel until Saturday, she had told him, if you’re looking for another round or two. Room 414.

  Ansel hit the button for the fourth floor with the side of his fist.

  I owe her an explanation, he thought, a small smile forming on his lips. And I wouldn’t mind going another round with her. I will reassure her that she has nothing to worry about, that I handled the issue with Valducci.

  She would undoubtedly show her gratitude one way or another.

  The elevators closed in front of him, leaving Ansel to happily anticipate the impending tryst with Carrie.

  If he had not been so lost in thought, he might have noticed Tony Valducci sitting in the lobby, his face contorted in rage.

  7

  “Please,” she insisted. “I would like to be left alone.”

  “Well,” he whispered, reaching up to brush her hair away from her face. “We don’t always get what we want, do we, chérie?”

  Nora jerked her shoulder away and glared at the brazen stranger at her side.

  “I don’t know you,” she spat angrily. “Do not touch me.”

  Shock filled her core as his hand grabbed her by the hair, tightening against the base of her skull.

  “If you make one sound,” he growled, “I will shoot you with the gun in my pocket. Come with me and you will not get hurt.”

  Nora swallowed her fear and allowed him to drag her toward the roadside where a van sat with its hazard lights flashing.

  “I am meeting my husband!” she cried as he threw her in the back of the car.

  The stranger chuckled dryly.

  “Your husband is marrying another woman,” he purred. “He is not coming for you.”

  “What did you say?” Nora whispered, terror flooding her body as she whirled on him. “You know Ansel?”

  “I know everything about you, Nora,” the man replied smoothly. “And I know I will be a much better lover than Ansel could ever be. He doesn’t care about you—can’t you see that?”

  Panic gripped her, and her wings sprouted from her back. She flew toward the door of the van before he could close it, but as she did, he reached into his trench coat pocket. Nora had no time to react as the man produced a needle and plunged it into her neck. She couldn’t react—she couldn’t even call out to Ansel.

  As she gaped at the stranger in horror, her eyes growing heavy, her last thought before all went black was, Fly! Fly away!

  Jerome stayed at her side for the next several days, doting on her as he had in the beginning. He rubbed her neck and shoulders, never raising his voice as they listened to classical music in the study, as he watched her play the piano.

  When did I learn to play the piano? Before Jerome or after? Nora asked herself, one of the hundreds of questions that filled her mind and brought her closer to the brink of insanity. But the terror inside her only mounted as she thought of Adrienne, freezing and alone in the cellar, the images coinciding with her own memories of the time she had been held captive.

  All the memories she had repressed… all the memories he had brainwashed her to forget were coming back to her. She did her best to hide her repulsion as bits and pieces flittered through her mind.r />
  Nora had begged him not to kill her. She had promised to do anything he asked. She had thought that he planned to rape her, that he planned to torture her and then be done with her, and she had pleaded him not to. She remembered Jerome had been furious at her words.

  “I will never take what you won’t give me willingly,” he had snarled at her. “I am not a monster.” Then he had smiled serenely. “In time, chérie, you will realize that you have always loved me, and you will want to spend your life with me. You will never remember anything other than the life you’ll have with me.”

  Nora had been broken down over time, her memory wiped at the hands of a madman. She did not remember the transition from the dark, dismal spot in which she had fought for survival to the quaint apartment in Bern. Somehow, along the way, she had forgotten who she was before the day on the Thames, before she had become Jerome’s companion.

  And he had been right; she had freely and lovingly given herself to him.

  How did I allow this to happen? Nora wondered as she floated through the days, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

  There was a vague recollection of another woman: a tall, red-haired girl with a blank expression on her face. And Nora could read the same look in her own eyes when she studied herself in the mirror. What had become of her? Where had she gone?

  She tried not to think about it too much. Wherever she had gone, Nora was sure to follow. But when would that be? How long would it be before Jerome got rid of her as well, turning poor Adrienne into his next little doll?

  At night, the only reason Nora slept was because she was being drugged again. She didn’t know if Jerome could see that her memories had resurfaced, but she couldn’t risk confronting him about them—it would only make matters worse.

  The only thing that seemed to keep her sane were the dreams. Every night, the man whose face she could not see came to her, and she reached for him as if he were her lifeline.