Crash Morph: Gate Shifter Book Two (47 page)

Evers wasn’t the first psycho I’d met, memorable though he was.

I didn’t need any more lessons that sometimes people can be bad.

And okay, maybe Gantry wasn’t used to people being stronger than he was, but I was. I’d dealt with that my whole life, too, in one fashion or another, despite the fact that I’m pretty good with a gun, and not a half-bad fighter.

So yeah, I knew what Nik could do. But I also knew it didn’t matter.

In my world, there’s always someone stronger.

What matters isn’t what people
can
do...it’s what they actually do.

And really, at the end of the day, all that ever protects you is love.

For a sample of another series by JC Andrijeski, try the ALLIE’S WAR series, including prequel novel,
 
BIRTH: ALLIE’S WAR EARLY YEARS

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THE GATE SHIFTER SERIES
is an unusual shifter romance centering on shifters from another world altogether, called morph. Earth humans remained blissfully ignorant of the existence of alternate dimensions until Nihkil Jamri tries to save private detective, Dakota Reyes, while he is surveying Earth. Part urban fantasy, part detective series, part paranormal romance, part science fiction adventure, the Gate Shifter series explores crime solving, interstellar warfare and alien romance with the least likely candidates imaginable.

THE ALLIE’S WAR SERIES
is a dark, unique and gritty urban fantasy romance involving a young woman grappling with her role in bringing about the end of one world and the start of a new one. Follow Allie Taylor and her antihero partner in crime, Dehgoies Revik, as they fight terrifying enemies and one another in a passionate story spanning centuries, and filled unpredictable twists.

THE ALIEN APOCALYPSE SERIES
is a dystopian new adult romance about a tough girl named Jet Tetsuo who grew up on Earth following an alien invasion. Forced into living among her conquerors, she must learn to navigate a treacherous world full of enemies who pose as friends, even as she becomes their most famous fighter in the Rings, their modern day version of the coliseum where she must fight just to survive.

More Books by JC Andrijeski

“Seeking Truth Through Made-Up Worlds”

Bonus Pages!
 

See below for an excerpt from
BIRTH: ALLIE’S WAR EARLY YEARS
 

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jcandrijeski.com
for a list of vendors and links

1

UNDERGROUND

“That’s not something we hear in here often, brother...”
 

Revik looked up sharply. Almost before he knew he’d done it, his body tensed into a near-fighting stance. He hadn’t heard the other male walk in. He hadn’t heard the door.

“...The music, that is,” the other seer clarified.

The seer smiled at him, holding up a hand in a peace gesture when Revik’s stance didn’t immediately relax.

Waiting until he’d at least stepped back, eliminating the most aggressive aspect of his posture, the other male changed the direction of his gesture at once, without a single hint of accusation, or even a real question. Revik followed the monk’s movements with his hand. Then he followed the other male’s eyes back over his own shoulder, towards the small music player and its somewhat crackly speakers.

It blared a poor recording of one of his old albums. Sitting on a bookshelf, the player emitted music from inside the cabinet built into the stone wall of Revik’s small, cell-like room.

Somewhere in those few ticks of silence, Revik understood the monk’s remark.

His eyes shifted back towards the older seer. Like most of the permanent residents here, the male wore a loose-fitting, sand-colored robe, and a guileless smile.

“What is it, brother?” the monk asked curiously, his light blue eyes holding a flicker of interest. “The music you are playing...it is human, is it not?”

Revik fought to stifle a snort.

Gods. He’d been lost in his own kind of bubble over the past few years, but never in his life had he encountered beings as out of touch with the wider world than the traditional seers who lived here, in the enclave of the Parmir.

He’d already been warned to curb his sarcasm, though, especially with the senior monks.

Another element of “negativity” in his overall make-up, Revik supposed.

“It is, brother,” he said. “...Human.”

“And what is it called?” the seer asked, his eyes and voice still openly curious. “It has a name, does it not? This type of music? Would I know it?”

Fighting the pounding in his head, that denser feeling of claustrophobia that tugged at Revik’s chest whenever he was in the stone room for too long, he kept his blank, infiltrator’s mask in place, making an inviting gesture with one hand for the seer to enter the room.

“They call it rock and roll,” he said, his voice deadpan. “...Humans, that is.”

The seer grinned like a kid, clasping his hands in front of the robe.

“Rock and roll? That is a curious name, is it not?” He looked back at the music player, as if examining the nature of the beings making the sounds through every tinny note. “That is the type of music though, yes?” the monk persisted, his dark eyes still holding that curiosity. “What is this
exact
group called?”

“Band,” Revik corrected thoughtlessly.

“Band, brother?”

“They call them bands. Not really groups. Not anymore.”

A flush of impatience hit Revik’s light as the monk nodded with interest. He struggled with a denser annoyance at being disturbed, and seemingly for no reason at all, other than for a curious monk to stare at his cassette player. Rubbing his forehead, Revik tried to shove it back, avoiding the eyes of the other male, but his resentment didn’t dissipate.

It’s not like he got a lot of time alone. They were on him pretty much all day, every day, when he wasn’t asleep. Why the fuck wouldn’t they just leave him be, the few minutes he had to himself? Even as he thought them, Revik struggled with his own thoughts.

He knew why the seer had likely come.

Revik had been indulging in more than a little “negativity” for the last hour or so, including around one of the worst bouts of separation pain he’d had to suffer in quite awhile. He’d already been warned against trying to seduce any of the monks living in the enclave, male or female, so he’d taken to hiding in his room when he got like this.

They should have taken the fucking hint and left him alone.

Even knowing that compassion likely led the other male to come find him, Revik couldn’t seem to make his anger lessen.

When the old monk stepped deeper into the room, Revik saw a flash of image behind his eyes. Dark, swift. It was gone as soon as it was there, but disconcerting enough to make him flinch, and leave a harsh taste in his mouth.

It also caused him to take another step back from the other male.

Somewhere in that image, he’d jabbed a flip knife in the male seer’s eye.

Something about the light there, maybe.

Something about the monk staring at him, too. Something about the fucking innocence there, the (...
sheep-like,
his mind muttered) openness of his light, the compassion devoid of any cynicism or guile whatsoever...

Something about the fact that they wouldn’t leave him the
fuck
alone.

“Brother?” the seer said.

His voice held patience that time, along with a denser light. The warmth of that same light wove into Revik’s as he stood there, (
insidious,
his mind accused,
unwanted, unasked
)...holding him, providing him with a measure of stability, grounding in a less angry space.

Reluctantly, Revik let the other male coax him out of the worst edges of his anger.

A few seconds later, he exhaled sharply.

Then he shook his head, clicking under his breath, rubbing his temples with the same hand. He wouldn’t look at the old monk at all that time.

“The Stones,” he muttered tonelessly. “They’re called The Rolling Stones, brother.”

The other seer sent a warm pulse of light to Revik’s chest.