Feral Heat: Shifters Unbound Novella (14 page)

Tiger unlocked and opened the door to reveal the young woman Deni had caught with the phone that showed she’d made many calls to the police. She’d washed off the Shifter groupie makeup but stared around at the Shifters with defiance in her eyes. Broderick, who’d insisted on guarding her, brought her up the last of the stairs with his hand lightly on her shoulder. Broderick’s gray eyes swept the trackers, and he looked almost as defiant as the young woman.

“This is Joanne Greene,” Liam said. “She’s been following Shifters around and reporting things to the police—the fight club, what Shifters do at the bar—and asking the cops to talk to Shifters and watch them . . .”

Deni had wondered what Liam would do with the young woman. Dylan now went to her, and the woman’s defiance dissolved into terror. Dylan stopped a foot in front of her, in her personal space. “Tell my son what you told me,” Dylan said.

Her chin came up. “Why should I?”

She was young, even for a human. In her midtwenties, Deni guessed, if that. Connor, who was only a little younger than Joanne, shook his head. “I’d tell him. If you think Grandda’s scary, wait ’til you face Uncle Liam.”

Broderick squeezed her shoulder. “Best get it over with.” He sounded sympathetic, interestingly enough.

Joanne took a deep breath. “Because you took my sister,” she said.

Liam blinked in surprise, and so did most of the Shifters present. “Your sister?”

“My sister, Nancy,” Joanne said. “She’s the true Shifter groupie. Loves to chase Shifters. She was here, in Shiftertown. Then she disappeared. What did you do with her?”

Liam gave her a blank look. “We didn’t do anything with her, lass. Where was she last? With what Shifter?”

“I don’t know.” Joanne’s eyes flashed anger. “Does it matter what Shifter? She was at your bar, then she went to your fight club. That was a few weeks ago. She hasn’t come home since.”

“And the human police agree with you that a Shifter must have taken her?” Deni couldn’t help asking.

Joanne looked even angrier. “They say they have no evidence of harm. They think she ran off on her own.”

Dylan didn’t move any closer to Joanne, but his look of menace was hard. “And so you stir up trouble for all Shifters, endangering us, our mates, our cubs, without coming to us and asking about her first?”

Joanne stepped back in fear, bumping into Broderick, but she spoke in a clear voice. “Come to you? Why should I come to
you
?”

Dylan started to answer, but Broderick took a step sideways, putting himself in a position where he could defend Joanne against the others if need be. “Go easy on her,” he said to Dylan. “She’s afraid for her sister. Don’t tell me you wouldn’t do the same thing if you lost track of someone you loved inside another Shiftertown.”

Dylan’s expression hardened. “No, what I would do is find the right culprit and shake him until he coughed up what he knew. And
then
decide whether to let him live.”

“She’s been telling me about it,” Broderick said, as Joanne gazed at Dylan in fear. “I don’t think a Shifter took her sister, but it looks like
something
happened around a Shifter event. You and Liam have all kinds of resources. Help her.”

Liam gave Broderick a thoughtful look. “Maybe we will. Dad.”

Dylan looked over Broderick and Joanne, then he turned away. Without a word, he walked out of the living room and then out the front door with an even stride. The bang of the door in his wake was loud, and for a moment, no one said anything. Dylan often did such things—keeping his own council and walking away to solve problems on his own. He was older than most Shifters in Shiftertown, and had experience and wisdom no one else had. The Shifters had learned to tolerate his abruptness.

Liam cleared his throat. “Since you like her so much, Broderick, you’re in charge of her,” he said. “I don’t want her talking to the police, or going anywhere or doing anything without me knowing. Got it?”

“Sure,” Broderick said. “Lighten up, Liam.”

Liam blinked again. Deni saw Liam deliberately let Broderick’s admonition go before he gave Joanne a slow nod. “We’re going to help you find out what happened to your sister. But you behave—understand?”

Joanne was bewildered—she must have thought the Shifters would kill her, or at least imprison her and do terrible things to her—but she nodded. Broderick stayed protectively in front of her, and Liam ended the meeting.

“I think he’s smitten,” Deni said to Jace as they walked back to her house across the street. “Broderick, I mean.”

They mounted the porch steps of Deni’s house, and Jace pushed Deni against a porch post. “So am I. Smitten is a good word for it.”

His kiss stirred fires that hadn’t gone out. Deni wound her arms around his neck and enjoyed him for a moment.

“I meant what I said,” she murmured as their mouths drew apart. “About the Collar. I’ll let Sean do what he needs to. I want it off.”

“I do too.” Jace touched the chain on her neck. “I’ll be with you, Den. And when you’re free, we’ll do some celebrating.”

“Why wait?” Deni smiled into his face, and Jace’s serious look dissolved into a wicked grin.

“Wild woman,” Jace said.

“Always.”

Jace led her into the empty house and to the basement, the two of them laughing as they stumbled down the stairs. Jace kicked the door closed at the bottom as he kissed her again. They waltzed their way into the bedroom they’d been using, hands stripping off each other’s clothes while their mouths locked into long, hot kisses.

“I love you, Jace Warden,” Deni said as they went down onto the bed.

“I love you too, Deni Rowe. So much.” Jace drew her up to him, stoking the fires inside her. “Thank you for finding me.”

“You found
me
,” Deni said. “Healed me too.”

“Mmm.” Jace closed his eyes as he slid inside her. His voice went low. “You healed me. We healed each other.” He put his hand on hers, the streak where the bracelet had burned him already closed to a red scar. Their fingers touched, spread. “You and me. One.”

Jace laced his fingers through hers, and Deni closed their hands together. “One,” she said, then she let out a cry as Jace thrust into her with a firmer stroke. “Always.”

“Always,” Jace said, and then there was nothing but the sounds of lovemaking, and happiness.

Sorrow fled, and Deni proved to herself what a beautiful thing it was losing control in the arms of the Shifter she loved.

Epilogue

Deni and Jace were mated in the full-sun ceremony the next day, bringing down the blessings of the Father God on the union. The full-moon ceremony, the final sealing of the mates, happened a few nights later, after Deni had had her Collar removed, at her insistence.

It was severely painful, and how Sean got the remaining gold from the bracelet to blend with the Collar and loosen it, Deni wasn’t quite sure. She only knew that the Collar had come off, link by slow link. It had hurt, yes, but Deni knew her release had come with nowhere near the agony that had suffused Jace when they’d tried to take his Collar off him. She’d also not felt the need to shift to her beast to give in to her feral instincts, as Jace had. The Fae gold made the difference.

Jace had been there, right next to her, snarling at a nervous Sean every minute. When Sean had lifted the Collar free and Deni took a long breath, Jace had pulled her hard into his arms, his eyes wet.

Deni, now fitted with a fake silver Collar, stood with Jace in the grove behind the houses under the moonlight, with Eric and Liam in front of them. Both had decided they’d jointly perform the full-moon ceremony—Liam because it was his Shiftertown and he was fond of Deni; Eric because Jace was his son.

Shifters gathered in circles, the chanting already beginning. So was the drinking and partying. Ellison stood next to Deni, proud and grinning, Maria on his arm smiling her sweet smile. Behind Deni were Jackson and Will, deliriously happy for their mother, but plenty willing to tease both her and Jace.

Iona had come, standing next to Eric, with Eric’s sister, Cassidy, and her mate, a human named Diego, next to her. Marlo, recovered from his bang-up but lamenting about the loss of his beloved plane, had also come.

So had the young woman called Joanne, who was being looked after by Broderick and his brothers. She’d relaxed a bit around Shifters, at least around Broderick’s gruff family. She was still worried about her sister, but Dylan already had things in motion. They’d find her.

As the moon rose, its cool light flooding the clearing, Liam held up his hands for silence. He and Eric stepped forward, Eric smiling in his warm way.

“By the light of the Mother Goddess,” Liam began.

“I acknowledge this mating,” Eric finished. “The blessings of the Goddess go with you, Son.” He put his arms around Jace. “And Daughter.” Eric turned and embraced Deni, Jace’s hand on Deni’s back as she hugged Eric in return.

And then there was laughter, many more hugs, with Deni almost squashed by the enthusiastic ones her sons gave her. Ronan’s giant bear hug competed with Will’s and Jackson’s for force. Tiger even hugged her, then gave her a nod, as though satisfied she’d finally wised up and done the right thing, bringing Jace home.

Shifters whooped, howled, screamed. The mating ceremony was a fertility feast, and Shiftertown would be fertile tonight.

Deni hadn’t felt the dizziness or beginnings of nausea that had triggered her episodes of near-madness since Jace had been brought home safely to Shiftertown. She’d made a breakthrough, she thought, out in the wild, choosing to give in to her instincts, which had helped her find her mate. The fact that she’d been able to pull herself out of the instinctive state once she’d found Jace, and hadn’t gone insane, had restored some of her confidence. The mate bond also helped erase her fear, and so had the removal of the Collar. Deni didn’t know exactly when she’d been healed, but she knew the process had begun when she’d met Jace that night at the fight club.

Music poured into the night. Deni danced with her sons, then Ellison, Liam, and Eric, with a circle of girls—Andrea, Kim, Iona, Glory, Elizabeth, Myka, Carly. The cubs ran around, undisciplined, shouting and screaming in their own games.

Finally, Deni ended up with Jace again. He tugged her close, his eyes going pale green with barely contained mating frenzy.

“Remember how this started?” he asked.

“You getting your ass kicked?” Deni answered, laughing.

“Me
saving
your ass,” Jace said. “And then having it.”

“Don’t you wish.”

“I do.” Jace leaned close. “I wanted you again and again, Deni. I went through a lot to keep you by my side, didn’t I?”

Deni nodded. “I’m glad you did.”

Jace kissed her again, his smiles gone. “It’s dark out here tonight. No one would miss us.”

She gave him a teasing smile. “Maybe we should be more civilized about it, now that we’re mated.”

“Screw that.” Jace’s hold tightened, his hand warming the small of her back. “I like being wild with you, Den. My heart.”

“Mmm.” Deni kissed him, then wrenched herself out of his arms. “Let’s be wild, then.” She took the garland from her head and threw it, spinning, away from her. Shifter women shouted laughter and scrambled after it.

“Catch me if you can, Feline,” Deni said to Jace, and she swung away, dashing into the night.

She heard a growl of frustrated wildcat, then another one of determination. Deni ran, but she knew she’d never outdistance a leopard who’d do anything to bring down his prey. She did try, though, so Jace would have a challenge.

But when his strong arms came around her in the darkness beyond the bonfires, Jace’s kisses frantically falling on her flesh, Deni knew she’d never been so happy to be caught.

Read on for a special preview of the next Shifters Unbound novel from Jennifer Ashley

WILD WOLF

Available April 2014 from Sensation

Graham McNeil slammed his massive fist into the jaw of the attacking wolf just as his cell phone rang.

He got the wolf into a headlock and tried to reach for the phone, but the wolf fought and clawed, drawing blood, its breath like sour acid. Graham’s Collar sparked heavy pain into his throat, while the Collar on the wolf he fought was dormant.

Was this where things were going with the stupid-ass idea that all Shifters should have their pain-shocking Collars replaced with inert ones? Shifters at the bottom of the food chain would use their fake Collars as an excuse to try to claw their way up, like this Lupine was. The shithead was from the family of one of Graham’s trackers and was supposed to be loyal to Graham, but today the wolf had decided to wait in Graham’s house until Graham walked in alone, and jump him.

Idiot. Graham had territory advantage, even if he still wore his true Collar, which blasted pain into him with every heartbeat. Time to show the attacking wolf who was truly alpha.

Graham’s phone kept ringing against his belt. Because Shifters were only allowed to carry “dumb” phones, he didn’t have a fancy ringtone to tell him who was calling. The damn thing just rang.

Graham grabbed the Lupine by the throat and threw it against the wall. The wolf howled, but did it stay down? Not for long.

As the wolf prepared another attack, Graham yanked the phone off his belt and flipped it open. “What?”

“Graham,” came the breathless voice of his more-or-less girlfriend, a human called Misty.

Everything slowed. Graham saw in his mind the curvy young woman with light brown hair she wore in ponytail, her soft face, and her sweet brown eyes. Every thought of her was like a breath of air, snaking into his messed-up brain and trying to soothe him. Graham wished he was with her now, teasing her, kissing her, instead of trying to beat an insubordinate wolf into submission.

“I’m a little busy right now, sweetheart,” Graham said loudly as the wolf landed on him. A wooden chair smashed under them as they both slammed to the floor—damn, he
liked
that chair. “You break my TV, you’re dead,” Graham snarled.

“What?”

“Not you, sweetie. I’ll have to call you back.”

“You can’t. Graham, listen, I need you. They’re . . . Oh, crap.”

“What?” Graham bellowed. “Slow down. What are you saying?”

“I have to go. I don’t know when I can call you again.”

Graham’s shift was coming. In a few seconds, he wouldn’t be able to hold the phone, let alone talk. “Wait!” he yelled at her.

“I can’t. I’ve got to go. Graham, I lo—”

The phone clicked, and Graham was shouting at a dead line. “What? Wait! Misty! Fuck.”

He threw the phone across the room and lifted the attacking wolf by the scruff of the neck. “Would you stop, you asshole?”

The wolf snarled, teeth snapping at Graham’s throat. The wolf in Graham responded. He felt his body change, muscles becoming harder and leaner, face elongating to accommodate teeth, claws jutting from fingers that quickly became paws.

With an ear-splitting snarl, Graham went for the other wolf’s throat, snapping teeth around fur.

At the last minute, the alpha in him told him not to kill. Graham was this wolf’s protector, not its enemy. The wolf needed to be taught its place, not destroyed.

Not that Graham wouldn’t rough it up a bit. But quickly. He needed to find out what was wrong with Misty. The fear in her voice had been clear, the desperation palpable.
They’re . . .
What?
Here? Coming? Killing me?

Graham’s Collar kept snapping arcs into his neck. He held on to the throat of the fighting wolf, not letting the Collar stop him.

Dominance didn’t have anything to do with Collars, or pain, or fighting. Dominance was about putting full-of-themselves, arrogant Lupine Shifters in their place. Graham got the wolf on the floor and stepped on it, and then shifted to human again, breathing hard, his clothes in tatters.

“Stay down.” The words were hard, final.

The wolf snarled again, then became human—lanky, dark-haired, gray-eyed—typical Lupine. Except this one was female.

She looked up at him, rage in her eyes. “This isn’t over, McNeil.”

“Famous last words. Your dad sent you, didn’t he? Thought maybe I’d mate-claim you if you couldn’t best me, right?”

The way she looked quickly away told Graham he’d hit upon the truth. She was naked, and not bad, but Graham hadn’t been able to think about any other female since he’d met Misty.

He hadn’t mate-claimed Misty, or even had sex with her. Graham had never had sex with a human before, and he feared he’d not be able to gentle himself enough for Misty. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt her.

Also, his position as leader of the Lupines in this Shiftertown was precarious. His wolves expected him to mate with a Lupine, to provide a cub who would be their next leader. If he went into mating frenzy with a human, the more old-fashioned of his wolves might try to solve the problem by killing Misty.

But Misty’s phone call had his gut churning. Graham climbed to his feet. “I’ve got to go,” he said to the woman. “I want you out of here by the time I get back. No more ambushes. If you want a mate, go chase some bears. They’re always horny.”

Graham turned around and walked away. The best way to show submissives they were submissive was to indicate you didn’t fear them jumping you the minute your back was turned. Making them know that if they did jump you, you’d stop them. Again.

His heart hammered with worry, the wolf forgotten, as he detoured to his bedroom to grab clothes to replace the ones he’d shredded with his shift.

Graham left through the back door, mounted his motorcycle, started it, and rode noisily away from his house and Shiftertown.

* * *

“I’m asking you one more time, where is he?”

“I said, I don’t know.”

The gang leader who held Misty against the wall by the throat didn’t believe her. He’d caught her running out of the back of the shop, and he’d taken her cell phone, thrown it to the ground, and smashed it with his boot heel. She’d never seen the man before, but she guessed who he was—a guy called Sam Flores who’d been in prison with her brother—and why he’d come.

“You do know.” Flores’s breath was foul with cigarettes and beer. “That him you had on your phone?”

“No—” Misty broke off with a grunt as her head smacked into the wall. “I don’t know where Paul is. He took off.”

“Lying bitch.” Flores had blue eyes in a sun-darkened face, and dark hair streaked by strong desert sunlight. “I’m going to beat you until you tell me where that asshole is. Then my boys and me will make you understand why you don’t mess with us.”

Misty was so cold with fear, she couldn’t feel anything anymore. She struggled, though she knew she’d never get away. Paul had been out making deliveries, and Misty really didn’t know where he was. She’d called him before she’d called Graham, but she’d had to leave a voice mail, telling Paul to lie low. Paul had hiding places, but Misty didn’t know where all of them were.

Flores held her in place, the prison tatts on his fingers up close and personal. Behind him, his friends were smashing up her flower shop. Baseball bats smacked into the clear glass refrigerator doors that held her stock; pots filled with arrangements were thrown against the counter. Glass splintered and flew, the flowers, innocent, scattered everywhere. Broken stems and a river of petals littered the floor.

The gang boys got into the refrigerators and smashed the vases there to the floor. Water gushed across the cement and tile along with all the flowers. Cool, dank air, scented with roses, carnations, calendulas, daisies, and baby’s breath wafted across the shop.

“You know you aren’t walking out of here,” Flores said. “You might as well tell me where he is.”

Misty didn’t bother to answer. If she would die here, the last thing she’d do would be to keep her little brother, Paul, safe. She’d taken care of him all her life, and she wasn’t about to stop now.

“I don’t think you understand,” Flores said. “It won’t be easy. You’ll be in so much pain by the time we’re done with you, you’ll be begging to die.”

Fine, then Misty would beg to die. At least she’d been able to hear Graham’s gruff, take-no-shit Shifter voice one last time. She thought about his strength, the tatts of fire on his arms, his hard face, and buzzed dark hair. Everyone thought Graham too tough, too mean, and too wild to tame, but Misty had seen what was in his eyes when he was around the two orphaned wolf cubs in his pack.

She’d started to tell Graham the secret inside her heart when the man with the callused fingers had snatched away her phone.

They were going to do whatever they wanted with her, and Misty would die. She was scared, but at least Paul had gotten away, and Graham’s voice had given her strength to face what she had to.

Not that she’d give up without a fight.
Go down swinging,
her dad had liked to say. He should know; he’d had to fight for everything his entire life.

The men in her store—five of them—were armed, carrying pieces stuffed into back holsters, knives in boots and on belts. Misty had nothing but her fists and her flowers.

“Cops’re coming,” one of the men by the door said.

Misty heard sirens. Probably Pedro at the convenience store across the lot had seen the break-in and called the police. But Misty knew better than to relax and be thankful the police were on their way. There would be a standoff, probably a gun battle, and someone would be shot. Most likely Misty.

She struggled to get away. Flores punched her twice in the face. Misty’s head snapped back, and blood flowed from her mouth.

Flores clamped his hand over her throat, cutting off her breath. He squeezed, not enough to choke her, but blocking off enough air to make Misty dizzy and sick.

He dragged her with him out the back door to the alley, the other four following. Two of the guys had motorcycles; the other two and the man who held Misty went for a pickup—a Ford 250, all shiny and new. Big enough to shove Misty down into its backseat, tossing a cigarette-smoke-infested tarp on top of her.

The truck rumbled under her as it started. Then the pickup jerked, tires squealing, as it headed down the alley that ran behind the strip mall. Another turn onto the street, and they were off, carrying Misty who-knew-where.

* * *

Misty’s pickup wasn’t in her carport. Graham killed the engine on his Harley, stepped away from the engine’s smell, and inhaled.

Every hackle he had went up, the wolf in him starting to snarl. Misty was gone—Graham could scent how she’d left the house through the back door not long ago, got into her truck, and drove away. All as normal. She’d have gone to her store, as early as it was, to do whatever it was she did before opening for the day.

Why hadn’t the woman told him where she was calling from? Graham’s cell phone had indicated what number had called him, but Misty had been on
her
cell, which meant she could be anywhere.

Graham scented no struggle here, no fear or worry. Just Misty’s fresh scent, overlaid with the flowers she worked with all the time. Graham couldn’t catch a whiff of roses these days or the strong odor of what she said were Asiatic lilies without thinking of Misty.

No,
thinking
of her wasn’t the right way to put it. The scents conjured up her sultry voice, her uninhibited laughter, her soft face, and brown eyes that went shiny when she looked at him sometimes.

The images, sounds, and scents of her woke up Graham’s needs too. He hadn’t touched the woman, but he dreamed almost every night about running his hand up the loose skirts she liked to wear, freeing her hair from the ponytail, licking between her breasts . . .

Misty had sounded terrified. Someone had been coming for her, and she was scared out of her mind.

Graham swung back onto his bike, started it, and roared down the street again. He saw the people who’d come out of houses to watch him, wondering what the hell a Shifter was doing in their nice corner of the city, but Graham didn’t care right now what they thought.

He turned out of the neighborhood and joined traffic on the 215 before he raced off on Flamingo, heading to the flower shop in this middle-class side of town. Shifters didn’t come here much, confining themselves to the north side of Las Vegas and the desert not far beyond. The big hotels on the Strip and downtown didn’t want Shifters scaring away tourists, so Shifters mostly stayed away, even though some Shifter women danced at nightclubs as the entertainment. Pissed Graham off, how Eric Warden, the Shiftertown leader, was all right with Shifter females doing exotic dancing for humans. One of the many reasons Eric was a dickhead.

Misty’s flower shop—Flamingo Flowers—was in a strip mall with other small retailers, which should have been quiet this early on a Saturday morning. Graham knew something was seriously wrong, even before he saw the smashed glass in Misty’s doorway and the cop cars all over the lot.

A couple of cops saw him, and Graham hesitated. He should get the hell out of there and have nothing to do with the city police, but if he left, he’d not be able to help Misty. She might be in there, and if she wasn’t, he needed to get inside and sniff around to figure out where she’d gone.

He decided to approach as though he had every right to be there. Shifters weren’t banned from
every
store in town, just most of them. But not this one. Misty had sense enough to know that Shifters were good customers.

Graham pulled his motorcycle next to one of the cop cars and dismounted. Next thing he knew, he was surrounded by five cops, who’d all pulled their weapons on him. One cop backed those up with a Taser.

Graham’s wolf fought to get out, wanting to go into a frenzy that would land the cops on the ground, their weapons broken. He clenched his fists, fighting the aggression he always had a hell of a time taming. When he’d lived in middle-of-nowhere Nevada, in a Shiftertown where his word had been law, Graham had never bothered damping down his wolf instincts. Now he was expected to live in a city of humans who treated him like he was some big scary animal that had escaped from the zoo.