Autumn's Blood: The Spirit Shifters, Book One (3 page)

“I’m sorry, General,” the man said,
his eyes flicking from Maxim Dumas to take in Autumn. “I didn’t
realize you weren’t alone.”

Dumas shook his head. “Don’t worry,
Sergeant. Actually, I’d like you to meet a new member of our team.
This is Doctor Autumn Anderson. Autumn, this is Blake Wolfcollar,
the head of our security team here.”

Wolfcollar
… She recognized the name as being Native
American. That would explain the beautiful complexion.

The imposing man didn’t smile at her.
Instead, his dark eyes seemed to bore through her, and Autumn
actually felt her heart stutter.

He put his hand out toward her and she
took it, her small palm vanishing in his massive fist. The heat of
his skin surrounded hers, burning into her as though he had a
fever. He locked those intense, almost-black eyes on her and warmth
flared to her cheeks.

“Doctor?” he inquired. “Does that mean
you’ve come to assist with our medical problem?” His eyes darted to
Dumas.

“Oh, no,” she said, wondering what the
medical problem was. “I’m not a medical doctor. I’m a molecular
geneticist.”

“I see. So you’ve come to work on our
shifter problem.”

She frowned. “Shifter?”

Dumas cleared his throat. “Autumn
hasn’t been filled in on that particular part of things. She’s
working on a need-to-know basis.”

Autumn felt herself shrink. So he
wanted her on the team, but was clearly expecting her to work with
less knowledge about the project than other members. Well, she
would have to make sure that changed, but right now she just needed
to get her foot in the door. She’d start to make waves
later.

Shifter? What the hell is
a shifter?

“Anyway,” said the man she now knew
was called Blake. “We need you down in the … lab, General. There
have been some developments.”

“I’ll be with you in a minute. I’ll
just escort Doctor Anderson out.”

Blake flashed her a measured smile.
“Why don’t you allow me to see the doctor out?” he said, addressing
Dumas, but never taking his eyes off Autumn.

“
Very well. Blake will
take good care of you, Doctor Anderson. We’ll see you back in the
morning.”

“Absolutely.”

The big, imposing man held the door
open for her, forcing her to brush past him as she went by. This
guy seemed to radiate heat. She’d have sworn she could feel him
from here. What would it be like to press the length of her body up
against his, with no clothing in the way?

She quickly glanced away, horrified at
where the thought had come from.

Walking down the hall, the giant man
followed close behind. When she stopped at the bank of elevators,
he leaned across her and pressed the button to call the car. His
proximity was so close she could almost turn her head and press her
face into the solid mass of his shoulder.

They stepped into the elevator, Autumn
sneaking glances in the mirrors surrounding them at the man next to
her. A square jaw, strong nose with slightly flared nostrils,
impossibly dark eyes fringed with even darker lashes. A fine down
of soft black hair covered the ridges of his well-muscled arms and
she couldn’t help but stare as he reached across her once again to
hit the floor they needed. They rode in silence and she didn’t
think she imagined the tension filling the small space. They locked
eyes in the mirror and both quickly glanced away. He cleared his
throat and the doors pinged open. They stepped out, Autumn just
ahead.

The security guards sat behind a desk,
the metal detector acting as a barrier between them.

Autumn drew to a stop. “I think I can
find my way from here.”

He gave her a nod, his dark eyes
drilling into hers. “I’m sure you can.” But he made no move to head
back to the elevator, but instead stood, still staring at her. “So
are you looking forward to starting on our project?”

“I would be if I knew a little more
about it.”

“You will,” he said.

She smiled shyly and
glanced at the floor, wondering how to make her excuses. For some
reason, just a
bye
didn’t seem like enough. She found herself drawn to this man,
not wanting to leave his side.

“Well, I’m looking forward to telling
my roommate about getting the job,” she said, realizing she was
also telling him she didn’t live with a man.

Suddenly he stepped closer, lifted his
hand, and placed the side of his index finger against her lips. His
skin burned against hers. She was too shocked to react, step away,
or tell him not to touch her.

“Our project here is a secret,” he
said, his voice low. “You mustn’t speak of it to
anyone.”

He seemed to realize the location of
his finger and quickly pulled his hand away and took a step back.
“Good afternoon, Doctor Anderson.”

Flustered, she said, “Good afternoon.”
She turned and walked from the building, feeling his gaze follow
her the whole way.

Chapter
Three

BLAKE NEEDED TO run.

Though shifting into his spirit
guide’s form was always agony, tonight, the need gnawed at him like
an addiction. He sensed himself on the brink already, his body
filling with the nerve-rattling vibrations that signaled the
change.

He knew he could put the urge down to
what he’d witnessed with Maxim Dumas and the captive shifters, but
for some reason it seemed as if it had more to do with the blonde
scientist whose path he’d crossed afterward. He couldn’t explain
it, but something about her had captured his attention, and it
wasn’t just the big blue eyes, elfin face, or the way her blonde
curls had escaped her hairstyle to brush her long neck. At about
five-eight, she was still far shorter than his six-foot-four frame,
but she’d appeared strong, a jut to her jaw which had given him the
impression that she meant business.

He’d been aware of Autumn being in the
room before he’d even knocked on Dumas’ door. His keen hearing and
sense of smell had been able to detect her, but he’d also been able
to send his wolf guide into the room ahead of him. His guide had
placed her image in his head, allowing him to observe her before
he’d ever come face to face with the new doctor. He needed to learn
about her. Her presence could change this whole thing. If she
succeeded in her job, the whole world might change.

Blake had left the government building
shrouded in guilt about abandoning the three shifters held captive.
He wanted so badly to do something to help them, but his hands were
tied. Peter Haverly had sensed his mounting frustration and sent
him from the building. Though Blake’s command over his spirit guide
was as strong as his kind got, he still ran the risk of stepping
over that boundary and losing control. Both he and Haverly knew
they couldn’t allow that to happen.

Already, the spirit form of his wolf
had headed into the forest. Blake closed his eyes to connect with
his guide. The scent of a small animal filled its nostrils and it
darted its head that way, tracking the trail. Not that Blake’s
guide was able to do anything about hunting the prey. Though his
wolf, while in spirit form, could sense the world around him, it
could not interact or affect it in any way. Only when they morphed
together did his spirit get to experience the world for real—taste
the hot gush of blood as it killed a meal, rejoice in the scent and
feel of the undergrowth as it rolled in dirt and fallen
leaves.

This was the reason the spirit guides
attached themselves to certain men and women. They got to
experience the world as though they were alive. In return, the
humans benefited from heightened senses and strength, and got to
experience life in another form.

Not all shifters were the same. Some,
like him, were chosen by their spirit guides at birth. This was
rare and meant he was stronger and more attuned to his spirit than
most. His spirit had been a part of him for as long as he’d been on
this earth. This made him stronger, faster, and able to shift at
will. Others were chosen later in life, so they never became as
completely in tune with their guides. These shifters didn’t have
control over when they shifted, and occasionally they didn’t shift
at all. Plus, not all shifters, just like not all spirits, were
good. Some worked badly, drove their human counterparts crazy, or
used them to murder.

Blake had travelled deep enough into
the forest now to avoid any accidental happening upon by regular
humans. From his own sense of smell, he was certain none were near,
and his wolf guide hadn’t crossed any.

While the change only took minutes to
occur, to Blake it felt like hours, the agony so intense the
seconds stretched on. He couldn’t risk being found mid-shift. He
was all but helpless then, at his weakest point. As both man and
wolf, he was big, strong, and feared by most. When not fully in
either form, he was as helpless as a newborn.

Pausing in the depths of the forest,
he kicked off his boots, leaving them in the dirt. He tugged his
t-shirt over his head, enjoying the night’s air against his bare
skin. Whipping open the buckle of his jeans, he popped the button
and shrugged them from his body so he stood naked, surrounded only
by trees. Blake closed his eyes once again.

Come to me,
he willed.
Be one with
me.

Instantly, he sensed his wolf guide
being pulled backward through the ether, like a rush of energy
blasting toward him. He stood with his shoulders back, his face
lifted to the sky, his fists clenched.

The spirit hit him like a blast of
power, knocking him back. He staggered to keep his balance as fire
surged through his body, feeling like every nerve ending had been
set alight.

Blake roared in pain, his face lifted
to the night sky. All around him, roosting birds burst from the
trees in a flurry of flapping wings.

The sound of every bone in his body
breaking ricocheted like gunshots inside his head. Red-hot
splinters of agony pierced every part of his body. He fell to his
knees, his head hanging down. He felt his jaw change, jutting
forward, his mouth suddenly full of long, sharp teeth. His ears
unfolded from the top of his head. Instantly, his hearing became
even sharper, the scents of the forest causing his nostrils to
flare.

His entire skin prickled as though
someone were piercing it with a thousand needles as individual
strands of fur sprouted. An ache at the base of his spine signaled
the growth of his tail, then the skin split and the new appendage
unfurled.

The shift was complete.

Blake hung his head, panting, his
tongue lolling from his mouth. Slowly, the final residues of pain
began to subside.

He shook his body, like a dog after a
swim, sending his fur flying around his rippling
muscles.

As a wolf, he stood almost as tall as
he did in man form. His beautiful silver fur was streaked with
black down his face and body. Blake’s muscles burned with strength,
and he lowered to a crouch before springing forward. He took off at
speed through the forest.

In the back of his mind, he sensed his
spirit guide’s presence. He experienced such clarity when they
became one. Normally, as a human, a part of his mind always seemed
to be somewhere else, like a daydream he couldn’t shake. But when
he and his wolf resided in the same body, the world grew sharper
than he’d ever thought possible.

His guide remained quiet,
content to simply experience the world for real. Should it need to
let Blake know something, it placed the image in his
head—
rabbit, human,
trap
—and he took steps to either hunt or
avoid.

Occasionally, Blake wished they were
able to communicate in words, but his guide wasn’t human and never
had been. It communicated in the only way it knew how—through
images and emotions.

Movement came in the distance, in the
undergrowth ahead. A skittering of hooves in leaves, the snort of
hot air through nostrils. All these things washed over him, the
knowledge without even having to see it—a deer, a young buck. He
could tell simply by the weight of its movement on the ground and
the hormones the animal gave off. The animal had sensed him too,
something he knew from the sharp tang of fear pheromones that
assaulted his sensitive nostrils.

Blake paused, a moment of uncertainty
rippling through him.

Had something else alerted the deer,
something else made it skittish?

No, surely he’d have sensed
it.

The one drawback of being wolf was no
longer having the benefit of a spirit guide to send ahead. When
they resided in the same body, his guide became a part of him, and
he his guide. The guide was tethered to earth and to the physical
bonds which tied them together. He couldn’t send it ahead to get a
sense of what lay before them.

He smelled the sweat quivering on the
deer’s flank, the hot gusts of its breath. His wolf guide thrust
images into his head—blood, meat, the satisfying lust of the
kill—and pushed him onward.

Blake ran through the forest, leaping
fallen logs, swerving around trees, breaking through bushes. The
deer also ran, hooves drumming a tribal beat against the forest
floor. Blake panted; hot breath on a cool night. His muscles were
strong and tireless. The deer was still some distance ahead, but he
had plenty of time to reach it. This was how wolves hunted, long
distance running in order to run their prey to a point of
exhaustion and then pounce. Of course, normally, they hunted in a
pack, but he was a lone wolf and different from regular wolves. He
was bigger—easily four times the size of a regular wolf—with fierce
senses and didn’t tire so easily. Other factors came into play at
supernatural level, such as his ability to heal quickly.