by Tamsin Ley
I shouldn’t have given in to her advances. Should’ve maintained control of his wolf’s urges. But Ashlyn had been so damned hot, so willing, so wet. He’d told himself he’d only go far enough to please her. But now his wolf was demanding more. He wanted to claim her. To cover the scar that bastard rogue shifter had put on her shoulder. To bind her to him as his mate. He should’ve taken her to the pack right away, not tried to protect her himself. He was too close to the situation to remain objective. But all he could think at the moment was: Mine.
The running shower splashed down Ashlyn’s back and puddled onto the linoleum, a haze of shifter magic swirling across her beautiful amber skin.
Don’t shift, don’t shift, he begged her in his mind. His wolf pricked his ears, tongue lolling in anticipation. If Ashlyn shifted, they’d probably both lose control and run through the streets in a mating frenzy, hunting chihuahuas together. His wolf thought that sounded fun. Kepler chomped down on his own tongue, tasting blood. Not fun. Deadly, he reprimanded, hoping the potential danger to his mate might force his beast to relinquish control. Not only was she a newly turned shifter—which should be impossible without visiting the Source—she’d proved she was capable of killing. Who knew what could make her do it again?
Ashlyn thrashed, tangling herself in the shower curtain. Her wolf must be shredding her inside, trying to get out. He remembered the willfulness of his own wolf during puberty, when all he wanted to do was fight. To establish dominance. It was the natural order of things, each animal searching for rank among its kind. As an Alpha himself, Kepler could’ve broken away to form his own pack. But he’d reigned his wolf in, forced himself to behave. Until tonight.
How was he supposed to assure Ashlyn she could handle being a shifter when he couldn’t even control his own beast?
Her icy-blue eyes flashed, and he caught a glimpse of her cream-colored wolf, fur darkened to a buff gold by the water. But then her human form solidified once more. Her teeth were bared with effort, knuckles white as she clutched the plastic curtain while the magic continued to swirl around her.
His chest swelled with pride. Her wolf was Alpha, but it seemed the human part of his mate was just as fierce. His wolf’s urge to claim her grew stronger, and he took a step forward. She will bear us strong pups.
Years ago, Kepler had discovered that his wolf was naturally competitive. He used that weakness now. Her control shames us, wolf. She does not wish to join you like this. His wolf stopped moving and considered that. We must prove our worth to her before she accepts us. Kepler slowly, painfully, mastered his beast, concentrating on conforming his limbs to their human dimensions until he crouched naked in the growing puddle of water on the linoleum.
Ashlyn gaped at him with eyes round as full moons, her pink and blue hair plastered darkly against her scalp. Her shoulders began shaking. Was she crying? Laughing? He couldn’t tell, but she was obviously hysterical.
He pulled a loose towel from the nearby hamper and wrapped it around his hips before easing toward her. The remains of his slacks lay in sodden scraps over the bathroom floor. Taking her face between his hands, he looked into her eyes. “You did well. You controlled her.”
She panted and shuddered, her voice emerging as a squeak. “You’re… you’re one, too.”
Kepler blinked in surprise. He’d assumed she’d known he was a shifter. Her wolf should’ve told her that right from the start. But she was new to the supernatural world. “Yes.”
“I thought this only happened in movies with bad hair and fangs.” Her voice shook.
He couldn’t help the smile tugging at his mouth. Sense of humor, even under stress. She was strong. “I’d like to think we shifters are sexier than those in movies, but there is a kernel of truth in those myths.” He reached up and turned off the water, then pulled a clean towel from the bar on the wall, wrapping it over her torso. “Your wolf is really strong, Ashlyn. Stronger than most. She’s what we call an Alpha. You’re going to have trouble controlling her.”
Ashlyn pinned one arm over the towel and kicked free of the clingy shower curtain before struggling to her feet. “This can’t be real. I bet I’m going to wake up in the morning with a monster hangover.” She choked off another bubble of semi-hysterical laughter. “Where are my clothes?”
She thinks she’s hallucinating. “It’s real.” He stood. “Your clothes are in pieces back in the alley.”
Her eyebrows drew together, and she stared at the scraps of his pants scattered across the bathroom. He could see the shallow rise and fall of her breathing as she clutched the towel around her naked body. Then she stood taller, seeming to find her resolve, and stepped past him toward the door. “I’m going home.”
He threw out an arm to bar her way. She’d kept remarkable control of herself a few minutes ago, but that didn’t mean she was good to go. There were a million triggers out there, from chihuahuas to other shifters. “You can’t go until we figure out how this happened, and definitely not until I’m sure you have control of your animal.”
The Alpha in her eyes flashed blue. “You can’t tell me what to do. I must be drunk. I’m not in control of my faculties.”
“You’re not drunk, Ashlyn. This isn’t a dream.” He shoved her toward the mirror over the sink, pressing his chest against her back to hold her steady. She struggled as he jabbed a finger at the mirror. “Look at yourself. Really look.”
She met his reflected gaze, then turned her attention to the bite on her shoulder. It had almost healed, and she ran her fingertips over the crescent of angry pink scar tissue, confusion filling her eyes.
“Shifters heal faster than humans,” he said close to her ear. “Don’t look at that. Look into your eyes.”
She lifted her chin slowly. The glow of her Alpha flashed in her eyes, proof the animal was hovering close to the surface, eager to emerge at the slightest weakness. She stiffened, her skin heating under his hands. She’s going to shift.
“No.” Kepler spun her to face him. “Do not let her control you.”
She trembled and bared her teeth. The glow in her eyes subsided. Gulping a breath, she shrugged his hands away. “I killed that man, didn’t I?”
“He attacked you.” His hands clenched into fists at the thought of it. Born of violence and into violence, his mate would forever bear more than the scar on her shoulder from tonight, and he hated that. “That shifter was a rogue. An outlaw. Your wolf only acted in self-defense.”
She swallowed. “What’s going to happen now?”
He hesitated, realizing he didn’t know. The Council should be informed. Ashlyn wasn’t supposed to be a shifter. They’ll lock her away to study her. Or kill her outright. He growled out loud, swallowing the sound when she shrank away.
Taking a step back to give her space, he inhaled through his nose, calming his wolf’s instincts. Ashlyn had no pack, no family, no ties to anyone except him. My mate. Which she probably didn’t even comprehend. Humans didn’t experience pairing the same way shifters did. “I’m going to protect you.”
A sarcastic chuckle shook her. “From what? Seems like my wolf has protecting me covered.”
“I’ve been tracking rogue shifters for over two years now, and this is the first time something like this has happened. I don’t understand how you’re now a shifter.”
“I got bit, remember?”
He shook his head. “Contrary to popular myth, a bite doesn’t turn you into a shifter. You’re either born as one or become one after drinking from the Source.”
“Oh. Maybe someone slipped some of that stuff in my drink.”
“Impossible. The magic only works inside the glacier cave. And the cave only opens when it chooses. I’m not even certain the cave can be found unless the aurora is out.”
“So this isn’t an infection. It’s magic.” She turned back toward the mirror and examined herself. “Can we break the curse?”
The pit of his stomach twisted. She’d called it a curse. She didn’t want her wolf. Of c
ourse she doesn’t. But if she went back to being human, what did that mean for him? Shifters were only granted one destined mate. Even so, he would never want her to live a life she didn’t choose. He swallowed his selfishness and shrugged. “If this is a hex, then it may be possible. Do you know any witches?”
She gaped at him from her reflection. “Witches are real, too?”
He smiled grimly and nodded. “And vampires, dragons, mermaids, gargoyles—all the myths and legends are, in one way or another, true.”
Her chest heaved with rapid breaths, gaze locked with his for a few heartbeats. Then she stepped away from the sink, lifting a black tee shirt from the top of the hamper and pulling it over her head with one hand. The shirt fell almost to her knees over the towel which she let fall to the floor. “I need to go home.”
Damn. All he wanted to do was peel that shirt back over her head and carry her to his bedroom. But now wasn’t the time to play at being mates. Once they had this mystery unraveled, he’d talk to her about that. “You need to stay with me until we know what’s going on. If your wolf breaks free, the local pack won’t ask questions or give you a chance to explain. They’ll exterminate you.”
“The… pack? As in, wolf pack? Are there a lot of you?”
He forced a smile and spread his palms. “A few,” he answered, thinking of the various packs scattered across the state. He hadn’t registered with any of them, but he’d never been much of a joiner. His Alpha tendencies got in the way, and he didn’t want to maintain a pack of his own. It would get in the way of his job. Plus, he liked being a lone wolf. “There’s a lot you need to learn now that you’re a shifter.”
Her lips thinned, and she shook her head. “I really do need to go home. My cat needs to be fed.”
“You have a cat?” It wasn’t unheard of for shifters to own pets, but an Alpha wolf owning a cat was going to be interesting.
Her face paled. “Oh my God. Will my wolf try to hurt Mr. Mew?”
He put a hand on her shoulder. “Your wolf will probably be fine with it. It’s the cat’s reaction I’m worried about.”
“I’ve had Mr. Mew since I was in high school.”
“Let me get you a pair of sweats, then we’ll both go. I’ll make sure you don’t do anything to hurt your cat.”
Chapter Five
The witch sat ensconced in the corner near the DJ station, her spell of shadows making her all but invisible as the police cleared the bar. She didn’t need to see the body in the alley to know who it was. The shifter’s death was her fault, just like all the previous deaths. Why did she keep trusting that things would turn out different? Her previous coven leader had been right—she was in over her head and every time she tried something new, she seemed to sink even deeper. This entire project had gone spectacularly wrong from the moment she’d sent her familiar to investigate a reported hellmouth in Arizona.
Uncertain what to do next, she stared into a half-empty beer bottle someone had left behind. She could summon the agathion using any common glass vessel, and a part of her took satisfaction in seeing him inside the swill left behind by some drunk. Unlike their full-blooded djinn cousins who came to Earth to prey on hapless human souls, an agathion could not come all the way through to manifest a physical form and was generally considered harmless.
Except this one.
Right now, the tiny form of the man inside the bottle gripped her familiar in one hand, stroking the auburn fur between the ferret’s eyes. Or should she say eye? The monster had plucked one of Hamilton’s orbs from its socket the first time the witch had dared refuse one of his demands. Her familiar was trapped because of her, and she’d do whatever it took to free him.
She prayed the monster wouldn’t punish Hamilton because of tonight’s disaster. Her hex had barely lasted a few hours this time. Keeping her voice low, she gritted between her teeth, “You promised you’d keep this host alive.”
“My dear, you worry too much.” Violet sheet lightning feathered the agathion’s skin. “This has been a most splendid evening. Far better than I expected.”
Sickness at his cavalier attitude mixed with guilty relief that perhaps the agathion was finally satisfied. “Does that mean you’ll let Hamilton go?”
He tilted his head. “Silly thing.” His glowing eyes felt as if they might laser cut his way out of the bottle. “We’re not finished. I need you to track down a newborn shifter.”
Her blood turned to ice. Hexing adults was distasteful enough, but an infant? Out of the question. “I draw the line at babies, you monster.”
She made eye contact with Hamilton and swallowed past the lump in her throat. The mental thread she and her familiar usually shared had been disrupted by the agathion’s magic, but she knew Hamilton would support her in this decision, even if it meant his death.
The agathion laughed, his voice crackling to match the storm on his face. “Not a child, a newly transformed shifter. The one I made in the alley. She will be my key.”
The witch glared into the bottle. The agathion wanted to inhabit a human much the way a shifter’s animal did, which would let him walk free like other djinn. She’d only balked a little when he revealed his desire. After all, there were already djinn walking the Earth. What was the harm in one more? But she was fine-tuning his hex on the lives of these shifters, and the death toll was mounting, as was her guilt.
“You said this shifter would be the one.”
“I have finally discovered the missing element. This time the hex will be permanent.”
Chewing her lip, she thought about refusing. The monster reached for Hamilton’s other eye, and she shook the bottle. “Fine. But permanent or not, this is the last one. I do it, and you let Hamilton go.”
The ferret wriggled between the agathion’s slender fingers, and the monster pressed his face against her familiar’s whiskered cheek. “But we’ve grown so fond of each other, haven’t we Hamilton?”
Her familiar twitched the tip of his tail, the only form of support he dared offer, but she knew it for what it was. He was ready for this to end, too, one way or another.
“I mean it,” she insisted. “After this, we’re done.”
The agathion’s lips parted in a sharp-toothed smile. “If you succeed at this, I’ll no longer need your services. Now, hurry and find her. The hellmouth is strongest while the aurora is active, and I don’t know how much longer it will last.”
She set the bottle on the table. “I need you to say it. I find this shifter, and you let Hamilton go.”
“Find her and hex her, and I will release your pet.”
Her mouth tasted like ashes. One way or another, this was going to end badly. Even so, she nodded. “Where do I start?”
Chapter Six
Ashlyn watched Kepler disappear through a doorway she assumed must be his bedroom. Emerging a few minutes later wearing jeans and a red tee shirt with a computer buffering icon and the words I’m thinking, he held out a neatly folded pair of gray sweats and clean tee shirt.
“Thank you.” Her hand brushed his as she accepted the clothing, and she felt the urge to bite him, for Christ’s sake. Her teeth ached for it. She breathed deeply and tried to clear her head, confused by the urges roiling inside her. If she wasn’t thinking about biting Kepler, she was thinking about fucking him. The primal way he’d driven into her had been the most amazing sexual encounter she’d ever experienced. Did shifters feel sex in a different way?
Shoving her legs into the sweats, she cinched the drawstring tight around her waist and rolled the pant legs so she didn’t step on them. When she exchanged the hamper tee shirt for the clean one, she felt a twinge of regret, but the clean one still smelled vaguely of Kepler, which she found calming.
“Ready,” she said.
Kepler picked up a set of keys from a table in the hall and led her outside to his Jeep. They backed out of the driveway and, after she gave him her address, they maneuvered the dark streets in silence. She glared at her hands as if she could see thr
ough her skin to the wolf’s paws beneath. This can’t be real. But despite how normal her hands looked at the moment, she knew the beast inside her was there, waiting to break free.
At the curb outside her apartment building, Kepler climbed out of the Jeep and went around to open her door for her. A silly part of her wanted to tell him she’d had a lovely evening, as if they’d just come back from a date. Accepting his supportive hand, she slid from the seat, bare feet hitting the chilly dirt that was supposed to be a lawn but that never managed to grow more than weeds. The sweet scent of the crushed plants reminded her of chamomile.
She led him onto the cracked cement path bordered by huge spruce trees and followed it to the unsecured entry stairway. There, she paused and looked upward at her door. “Are you sure I won’t hurt Mr. Mew?”
Tender concern softened Kepler’s masculine features, and butterflies took wing in her stomach. He put a gentle arm around her shoulders. “I won’t let you hurt your cat.” His gray eyes didn’t have the glow she’d seen when he shifted, but they still felt warm on her. The air between them filled with tension, like the weather before a thunderstorm. Inside her, the wolf rose toward the surface. Bite him. Mark him.
Trembling, she shrugged off his arm and climbed the stairs to her apartment. Only at the door did she realize she didn’t have her purse or keys. Not even her phone with her landlord’s number in it, not that she’d want Gerome to see her like this.
Kepler’s presence felt warm behind her. “What’s wrong?”
“I’m locked out.”
“Ah.” He moved to the door handle and examined it. “I’ve learned a thing or two being a criminal investigator. Let me try.”
Within a minute, he had the door open. “You should really use your deadbolt.”
She was hardly listening as the familiar scents from inside her apartment washed over her. The light sandalwood from her essential oil diffuser was strongest, but beneath that she could smell the overripe bananas on the counter and the acrid smell of Mr. Mew’s litter box. Her geriatric cat was nowhere in sight, but he could usually be found curled up next to the radiator in her bedroom.
