Lycan Alpha Claim (#2) (5 page)

Merck

He's Mutable—and a Masker.

Would have been great info to know before I ran into his conniving conveniently naked ass in Falls Park.

Of course, where would the fun of
that
be? Leaving me to face the shifters who were hound dogging on Talyn's scent.

But he can't scent-mask in every form.

The horse thing didn't work. Sure—it got Talyn away from me, and to safety quickly. However, it's only a matter of time before my Lycan nose smelled barn and here I am.

Standing in her open back door.

I flick my eyes around the immediate environment, notice that Adrienne and company cleaned up the majority of the shitstorm we left behind and hear Arden trying to get in my change's pants.

What does she mean why she can't just stay a human? Who'd
want
to?

Stupid question. “Because you'll die,” I say plainly.

The pup gloves have come off. Arden and me are going to come to an understanding. Now.

He doesn't disappoint, reacting immediately, he lunges across the small space, talons in whatever form he's just chosen sprouting like knives at his fingertips.

“No!” Talyn screams in her throaty contralto. Her voice wouldn't carry if she tried.

I use Arden's momentum and toss him behind me.

He stabs his talons into my back and uses them like a fishhook.

I arch forward in pain, my body flushes with heat, already feverishly trying to knit damage from a shifter gang bang twenty minutes ago.

I can't.

Then Talyn is there.

Arden jerks his talons out and I slump for a nanosecond, then spin, swiping my own razor-sharp set at him.

Furrowed and jagged marks streak across his naked chest and blood pours out of the wounds.

I swing back, readying to skewer his lungs when Talyn steps between us.

I check my strike with a curse, swinging away to give the momentum somewhere to go.

“Stop this, you fucking peacocks!”

Peacocks?

“Oh—wipe that dumb look off your face, Merck—or whoever you are! This is
my
home. Not a gymnasium for the two of you to wreck everything within ten feet!”

Arden touches her shoulders and she shrugs off his hands.

My eyes meet those of the Mutable behind her and I smirk. If I were human, I'd flip him off.

But I'm not and the games are over.

Talyn Phisher will transition. I am a Changer for her flavor of supe. “Just because Arden says he can transition you doesn't mean he's the best shifter for the job, Talyn.” I say it to her while I look at him.

She puts her hands on her hips. We both track her movements.

“God, you boys are all sexed up. Great. Listen to me and listen well—I am not a boss open for taking job interviews. I'm not hearing what you're saying. I trust what Enforcer Adrienne said: that I'm some kind of hybrid. But I'll be damned if I'm going to hump my way to being a werewolf.”

I spread my hands away from my body. “Talyn, this is the way it has always been done. A Changer finds a hybrid female whose human side has covered her scent. When she begins to degrade because her Lycan side is taking over, and trying to transition, your scent—and all those females before you, begins to attract those who seek it out. It's biology, not emotions.”

Talyn crosses her arms, glaring at us. “I am
not
ruled by emotions!” she yells and swipes a tear off her cheek.

Arden and I look at each other.

“Stop doing that!” she rants and walks away.

Her feline streaks past, hissing at the Mutable and me as it does.

“Pooky!” Talyn moans with relief.

Talyn flops down on the only piece of furniture upright and covers her face with her hands. “I don't want this.”

“There's no rewinds, Tal. We can't take away what you are.”

She looks to the Mutable, and his face is closed down like a drum. At least we're together on that.

“Don't
manage
me, Arden.”

He throws up his hands in the universal gesture of
I give up
.

“Talyn,” I begin slowly, “this isn't a game. You will die unless I transition you.”

“One of us does,” Arden glares at me.

“Is that true?” Talyn asks.

“Probably,” I admit. “But the Mutable has how many transitions under his belt?”

I know this answer—but Talyn doesn't. She needs too.

Arden gives a hard sigh. “None.”

Talyn laughs. “So you were going to what—practice on me?”

I grin.

She swings to face me and I wipe my face of expression. “And you!” she roars.

I scowl.

“You're nothing but a Lycan man-whore. You sleep with any female that needs the ʻchangeʼ. I'm just a notch in your werewolf belt. Nope,” she says, walking into her bedroom and tossing a small rollaway suitcase on a bed covered in a lacy, feminine quilt, “I'm not going to sleep with my ex-BFF who can change into a menagerie. Nor am I willing to just have sex with some Lycan because he says lie down and spread ʼem.”

She punches clothes inside the suitcase.

Arden gives me a helpless look.

Okay, maybe this will work. I stride behind her, sliding my arms around her waist.

I press my mouth to the soft spot where her neck meets her shoulder.

Talyn struggles.

I bite down and she moans, throwing her head back against my other shoulder.

“Stop,” she says. The word is
no
but her body is throwing off
breed me
hormones like a freight train.

“God, stop it,” Arden says.

My eyes flick to his and sweat is beading on his face. “She's too ready. I can't hold back.”

I narrow my eyes at him.
I'm not sharing.

Arden's gaze challenges me as Talyn rubs her ass cheeks against my raging erection. I give a painful shift of my prick and it settles in the crack of her ass.

Not
an improvement. The placement makes my control worse, not better.

I growl against her shoulder, asserting my dominance as a male Alpha Lycan. It's a last resort in an effort to evoke compliance.

Her animal should recognize mine. See that I'm here to help, to ease her.

Arden moves in a blur to her front.

Our eyes meet and I growl against her flesh.

Talyn whimpers.

She's mine. I feel her animal submit. I scent her readiness. Her degradation to Lycan is near. She's ripe for the taking.

Though I need her assent.

“Talyn, look at me.”

I can't see her face but I know Talyn is responding to Arden's command when her chin dips from its perch on my shoulder.

“Let us help you,” he whispers and his hands move to cup her breasts.

She moans and our pelvises both arch toward her in response—toward her sex.

I can't take my mouth from her shoulder until she gives consent. Which means I can't tell Arden to fuck off.

The Mutable thinks he'll have a ménage à trois with my change?

He's mistaken.

“Yes,” she answers with a thready sigh.

I shudder in relief, and my teeth release her flesh. Perfect indentations mar the smoothness of her upper shoulder, though I didn't break the skin.

Stealthy creeping erupts from the hallway. Arden's eyes flash to the source.

The shifters who I gave the slip have arrived.

A languid Talyn hangs between us. Ready for transition. She would take any male in this state.

With the Mutable's help, I put her there.

A huge Lycan male crosses the threshold into her bedroom. “We'll take it from here, dogs.”

He smiles, his many rows of teeth glow softly in the dark bedroom.

I lay Talyn on the bed and loosen my hands, crouching low.

They won't have her.

I don't look behind me to see what Arden's doing, but I hear the crunch of bones shifting. Tendons snap wetly as they realign into a form of his choosing.

He'll take me out of the equation while a mutual enemy threatens Talyn.

But he doesn't. Arden charges the shifters.

As a grizzly.

I leap into the fray, fangs bared.

The End

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REAPERS

THE DRUID SERIES

Volume 1

New York Times
Bestselling author

MARATA EROS

All Rights are Reserved.

Copyright © 2011 Marata Eros

This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer's imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to a legitimate retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

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Edited by Hazel Novak

Adult Reading Material

The material in this document is intended for mature audiences 18 years and older.

Please note this book  deals with serious and disturbing themes including violence and murder.

CHAPTER ONE

I looked at the clock,
yet again
... and knew that if my boss caught me I'd be toast. Safe in my cubicle, I swung my gaze away from the dreaded time and looked for Michelle. She'd be hanging by the cooler,
which she was.

Michelle caught me looking and lifted her chin up in greeting and grinned. She knew what I was about. It was all about getting out of here and doing something for ourselves. It had been a Long-Damn-Week and I was going to let my hair down and have some fun.

Michelle wrapped up her conversation with one of the petty chicks that lounged all day while we picked up the slack.

As Michelle walked toward me, I thought that maybe we wouldn't have to change: pencil skirts, thigh high stockings, stacked heels and blouses that yoked just where they should be to look sexy, nothing too much.

Michelle stood in front of me, tapping a foot. “Watching the time won't help it go faster.”

“Yes, I know, but I feel like the day should have ended already.”

“I've got an idea, let's go to Spinners tonight,” she nearly squealed in delight. I wasn't feelin' the love on that place. It was always packed with a rough crowd and you had to beat the guys off with a bat.

Michelle saw my expression and started to wheedle immediately, “Listen, give it a half hour and if it's super-lame, we'll just bail and go somewhere else. Like that brewery place... what's it's name?”

“Talbot's,” I replied absently.

She snapped her fingers. “That's it!”

“Listen,” she leaned forward and our hair mingled together, “that new gal... with the red hair...”

“Molly?” I said, automatically looking around for her.

“Yeah,” she waved her hand, dismissing the name. “She was talking about that piece of creepy news that's been circulating today.”

I looked at her blankly.

“Oh for shit's sake, Rachel! Don't you pay attention to anything?”

“Not really,” I said noncommittally. My life was beyond boring right now. I worked here, hung out with Michelle, worked out, read, fed my cat. I was dying for some Excitement.
Dying
. But the news wasn't going to deliver. Excitement... no way.

“You're hopeless! Anyway,” she sounded the syllables out slowly, “there's been another killing. Another bleed-out.”

That got my attention.

It had been almost a month since the first murder and they still hadn't found the killer.

Then there were the rapes.

Somehow, it was all connected. Men were killed and drained dry of their blood and if there were women with them, they were raped.

But none of the women could remember the attack or their attacker.

Our gazes locked. “So... they found another body. Two, actually.” Michelle said ominously, waggling two fingers.

Great. Just when I thought we could flounce around for the weekend. Talk about a wet blanket.

“Maybe... we shouldn't go to Spinners then. I mean, if it's not safe.”

“Eff-that, you're going! I just wanted to spread the gory gossip.”

“That's kinda sick, you know.”

Michelle nodded vigorously, she knew.

I sighed. There was no getting out of it once Michelle had her mind set. And, in my soul... if I didn't get a break from this job and do something out-of-body, I'd scream.

“I gotcha talked right into it, don't I?” Her eyes sparkled.

“I guess but, we need to be careful, especially now,” I said in a conspirator’s whisper.

“Hell, I'm more worried about the regular guys.”

“Were the women... you know, was there blood... there?” I asked.

She spun back around, her skirt twirling a little with the motion. “That's the major weird thing, they had all been bitten, but still had their blood. Only a pint gone.”

Well, wasn't that just
comforting
.

Michelle winked as she sauntered off, hips swaying. “Pick ya up at seven sharp.”

She didn't wait for me to respond. Michelle knew she had me, hook, line and sinker.

I gathered up all my stuff, slipped my heels back on my feet and headed for the door.

Unfortunately, my dragon lady of a boss was blocking my way.

“Miss Collins, I see you're ready to leave.” She looked at her behemoth of a wristwatch. “Two minutes after five.” She raised a humongous unibrow at me and I stifled a giggle. It was hard to be pissed at her when she looked so ridiculous.

Almost.

“Yes. That's traditionally when the work day ends for us here, Ms. Hogan,” I replied, thinking with mild irritation that Hogan had me by the short hairs. She knew I needed the job, she couldn't lambast me for leaving when the work day was through, technically. But... she liked to make me feel
diminished
for leaving so close to the chiming of the clock.

Hogan looked me over from head to toe, taking in my long black hair, so deep a black it had blue highlights in the right light. My eyes were a pale blue, I was shapely but not skinny, and on the tall side. I didn't consider myself a hot number but I held my own. Hogan, on the other hand looked like she was always trolling for a new bridge.

I had discreetly pressed my elbow into the elevator button and it dinged just as she opened her mouth to mention something else equally unimportant, her jowls swinging as she popped her mouth open then closed it again.

I felt my escape portal open at my back and walked backwards into its gaping mouth, never more glad to be out of mortar range of the enraged cow, aka my boss.

She glowered at me, starting to waddle forward and I blurted out, “Have a great weekend!” The door swept closed in front of me.

I did a mental forehead-wipe. Thank God I was out of there.

As the elevator descended I prepared myself for the onslaught of cold weather, my car would need at least five minutes to heat up. The days were long here in the north and heating my car in the underground parking garage was just part of what we did in Alaska.

The elevator doors hissed apart and the cold air swept into the tight space, momentarily stealing my breath. I huddled my full length coat around myself, silently wishing the car was already warm. I rushed out of the elevator's cocoon of heat, my heels making clicking sounds on the concrete as I made my way to my car. If you could call it that.

As I approached I knew my car stood out, it was a Smart Car and Michelle liked to tease and say it was a toaster that I drove, not a real car. I smiled, she had me there
.

I fumbled with my keys, finally yanking my glove off with my teeth, groaning as the cold air assaulted my fingertips, making them instantly numb.

“Hey, Rachel,”

I dropped my keys on the ground, spinning, my hand to my heart.

It was Erik, a guy from work. My shoulders slumped in relief. He scared the shit out of me.

“Scare you?” he smiled.

I smiled back tentatively. He had really been pursuing me and I wasn't that interested. I couldn't put my finger on it exactly but there was just something
off
about him.

Erik approached me and I stiffened a little, but he bent over, jerking the keys off the ground and put a finger through the loop of my key fob and hung them off his finger in front of my nose.

I tried to snatch them and he yanked them just out of reach.

“Meet me for dinner,” he stated, his eyes steady on my face, disconcerting.

“Ah... Michelle and I are going out tonight,” I said, trying to distract him.

“Rain check?” he pressed, never stopping his eye contact. I was starting to get nervous.

Damn.

I resisted the supreme urge to look around, seeing if there was anyone else. But there wasn't, I could feel the absence of others. I sure wasn't short on woman’s intuition.
Just another creepy service we offer
, I thought, getting the heebie-jeebies.

I closed my coat tighter around me and his eyes tracked the movement, a smile spreading on his face. “I'll let you go, I know you have plans.” But his face told another tale. I didn't think he'd forget my rebuff anytime soon.

I held my hands out and I was happy to notice that they weren't shaking. He'd really put me in a creeped out mood and I wasn't happy about it.

He dropped the keys into my cupped hands and smiled again, tipping an imaginary hat.

I turned after his back was to me and stabbed the key into the lock, opening the door in one movement I slid behind the wheel, slapping the flat of my palm on the lock after it closed. I heard the simultaneous click in the silence of the car and let the breath out I didn't realize I'd been holding.

Holy-hell.

I turned on the car and stewed for the five minutes, all the while wishing I could have driven off.

That encounter with Erik had put a bad taste in my mouth. Like diet pop, but somehow worse.

I pulled out of the bowels of the building, the night as black as when the day started. I entered traffic and began the drive to my condo, almost in the heart of downtown.

I couldn't wait to be home.

I threw my lights on, and glancing right then left I was so startled that I almost let my foot off the brake into opposing traffic.

Erik sat behind the wheel of his car. He'd having sat there the entire time... waiting for me.

I gunned it at the first hole in traffic that appeared. What a whacko!

I'd have to tell Michelle he was a nut-job. She'd have him cracked in no time.

****

I had my head thrown back and my lips parted, the last swipe of mascara almost perfect... there! I stood back and looked at my reflection: definitely not work attire. I was so glad I made the decision to not perk up the whole mess with just a new top. Michelle probably would have flogged me if I had anyway. She'd be dressed-to-kill (as usual). I needed to make an effort. Sometimes, I wondered why I bothered. Michelle would go, shine, get picked-up, bang some anonymous stud in the bathroom or wherever, and I would sip my drink wishing I could go home and curl up with a book. I sighed. That's okay. She was... my vicarious slutty friend. And I loved her.

I grabbed my vanilla body spray and squirted a last dab. If I got to dancing a lot, I'd be glad I wore it. It was frigid outside but once we were inside Spinners, with all the bodies packed in there, it'd be a different story.

I heard the doorknob jiggle and caught sight of Michelle coming through the doorway looking delectable in her slut suit. She twirled for me so I could get the full effect.

“That should be illegal!” I nearly screamed. She had a micro-mini on that was two part: it cupped her ass and was barely legal (skimming the indecent exposure laws by a millimeter). It was hot pink, setting off her platinum hair to perfection. She “helped” the color of said hair, but not by a lot. Michelle was a rare thing up here in the frozen north and I was betting that it was her coloring that got her so much attention, and the boobs... and the outfits. And, and....

I smiled as she circled me like a shark, gauging my potential for Attracting the Opposite Sex.

“I don't know... is this the shortest skirt you have?” Her brows closed the distance between her eyes.

I self-consciously ran my hand over my short black skirt, it barely covered the lace of my thigh-highs... a gorgeous pair that I had splurged on from Italy.

“Yeah, I can't go much shorter without the lace tops showing.”

Michelle gave me a blank look. “Seriously, that's part of the allure.”

“Ah... no. I say let them guess. It
is
underwear after all.”

“I say show it!” Michelle said.

“Mystery,” I replied.

She threw her hand up. “Whatever, I give up. At least you did right by the top.”

I had almost not worn it, it was a scorching crimson and showed off my raven hair, my eyes stranded like startled jewels in my pale face. It left my arms bare and was tucked inside the skirt.

Michelle allowed her glance to linger a moment longer on my outfit, then shook her head as we walked out. I gave a quick pet to Caesar the cat and waltzed out.

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