Shifter Alpha Claim 1-6 Omnibus (23 page)

Narah

I don't feel well.

Usually I can just blast through a workday living on coffee and a donut. Grab a supper through the fast food drive through. Done.

Order: I'd like a quarter-pounder with cheese meal.

Question: What kind of drink, miss?

Answer:
Blood.

It gets Murphy every time.

I snicker.

Aeslin gives me a curious look while Murphy's is suspicious. Things that make me laugh are usually not kind or good.

That makes it funnier.

Of course, the iconic golden arches have been progressive enough to offer bagged blood.

It's gross—I'd rather take from the vein of one of my males. And that's just the way they like it too.

Aeslin and Matthews flank me. Murphy's nursing his head where Drake the dragon clocked him and being a general bitch, which I tell him.

“I am
not
a bitch. That description is for Lycans or some women of the unsavory order.”

Aeslin chuckles.

Murphy is his favorite vamp. Probably because he has to protect me, and he's British. His humor is largely lost on me but somehow, Aeslin finds him hilarious.

Matthews frowns at Murphy.
Like I was thinking.

Matthews stops suddenly. We've made the short trek to Philips Street, scenting Drake easily. The sight that greets us is more funny than menacing.

“There!” Matthews says in a whisper only heard by the four of us.

My eyebrows scrunch. What the hell is
that?
It looks kind of like a—donkey?

“Oh love, this is more entertaining than I could have hoped for.”

“Shut up, Murph,” I say absently as I stare at the incredible sight. A man, maybe topping out at six and a half feet, is giving some kind of instructions to his little posse. Mutables, from the look of it.

I stifle an insane urge to laugh that is like a case of the clap. It itches. And I wanna scratch.

Long floppy ears swing as he speaks and gestures and I slap a palm over my mouth to buy my silence.

The men look at me.

I know.
I can't seem to keep ahold of my shit. I blame it on the baby.

His teeth are pale yellow little Chiclets inside his mouth.

I expect braying to start.

Murphy pinches me and it wipes the urge to laugh.

Matthews punches him in the stomach for touching me.

The urge sweeps in again.

Murphy folds, knees hitting the cement.

“Thanks, Murphy,” I say, really appreciating him saving us being outed because I had a supremely untimely urge to have a giggle fest.

“Welcome,” he gasps from the sidewalk.

“He hurt you,” Matthews explains, and I fight smiling.

I wink at a gasping Murphy. “Yeah—needed it. I was sliding toward some kind of hysteric fit.”

Aeslin raises an eyebrow.

“Baby's fault,” I crow in soft indignation.

Both men appear puzzled and a small giggle does manage to escape.

Humor departs when the perp slides into the entrance of the old Foundry building. It's now commercial on the first floor with high-end apartments above. “He's on the move,” I say, going forward.

The men pace me.

I glance back at Murphy. He's hobbling to his feet.

He nods.

I beckon.

Murphy trots unevenly after us.

Merck

No one could have prepared me for this moment.

The moment where my life seems to settle into something resembling happy.

Drake is on one side of the couch, Talyn between us.

Music plays softly, the supper dishes soaking in soapy hot water to be done... whenever.

“I hate to say this,” Talyn begins, and I can't resist kissing her temple. “But I sort of
like
this.”

Drake tilts his head in her direction. “What is this?” he gestures loosely with his finger at the three of us.

“Being here, with you,” she smiles up at me, but her hand lands on the dragon's thigh.

I frown.

She presses her finger to my lips. “Don't be like that, Merck. I'm not anyone's. I'm Talyn. But I think I might consider being with a shifter.”

Drake bursts out laughing.

Talyn sits up straight, removing her hand from his leg.

Good.

He stops.

“What's so damn funny?” she asks, eyes narrowing on Drake.

I look at him with an amused lift of eyebrows.

He shoots me a
go die
look.

Not yet, pal,
my answering look says.

“You aren't fully human anymore, Talyn. Being with a human male is a waste of time.”

Probably a waste of time before too
. I don't comment. First smart move I've made.

“Well forgive me if I'm having a little
trouble
coming to terms with the shift of my life.”

Good Moon,
she's getting riled up again. Bad puns and all.

“Talyn,” Drake tries for reason, “all I was trying to say was that this
is
a natural direction for your life.”

Not bad.

He takes her hand. Then Drake wrecks it by speaking more. “And you didn't seem to have too much trouble when I was tonguing you.”

Should have gone for simplicity
.

I think I see steam pouring out of her head.

No. Just my imagination.

She slaps Drake and her new Lycan strength makes his head rock back.

When he looks back at her, his eyes have gone dragon.

I jerk her onto my lap just as the broken door swings open.

We turn to look as the ugliest shifter I've ever laid eyes on stomps inside like an elephant.

Scratch that.

Wooly Mammoth.

*

Jac

I immediately spot the Lycan and Drake. The female hits the radar as prehistoric but strongly Lycan over the top of that. She reeks of a dual claim. An unfinished one from Drake and a complete one from the werewolf.

Damn
. What a mess.

I shift the velvet sack with the silver weapons to my other hip.

“Hey,” I say, as though my presence is an everyday occurrence.

The Lycan stands, a low growl loosening lips that are becoming jowly with his animal.

“Stay there, Jacob—freshly claimed female. Things are volatile.”

“Freshly claimed?” the female yells, pounding on Drake's back with small fists.

My eyebrows rise. I guess it's not going smoothly.

Do I kill the Lycan?
That's the normal protocol. I open my mouth to ask Drake when I realize my damn tusks are in the way.

Shit.
I begin to shift to human when four Mutables saunter in behind me.

I smell the female's fear and turn, facing... a donkey.

I laugh, but it comes out like a strangled cough. ʼBout normal, considering.

Apparently the donkey Mutable understands my laughter is for him and gestures toward me. “Kill him,” he says.

My eyes shift to the three who come for me.

Tiger.

Black bear.

Antelope.

Antelope?

I take out the bear first, clocking him so hard with my weapons he drops where he's hit.

Rushing the remaining two, I gore the tiger as his fur ripples over his body, flinging him off with my momentum. He makes a bloody stripe as he slides down the brick wall, the texture picking up a little spine in the process.

The antelope kicks backward and hits me smack between the eyes.

The strike staggers me and I land on my ass. Hard.

Taken out by a fucking
deer.
I shake my head, trying to clear the fireworks bursting in the field of my vision. Fucking hoofer got me just right.

When the four vamps charge in, I slump.

Could the night get any worse?

*

Narah

The donkey goes straight for Talyn but the dragon and Lycan have it.

I see that the—whatever he is—elephant guy, was put on his ass by a half-formed deer and resist the urge to laugh again.

I've had some pretty weird experiences but I'm thinking this is the number one evaaah.

“Narah!” Murph screams above the din.

I turn and Donkey's got something in his hand.

Something small. And illegal.

Grenade.

Matthews unfortunately takes my shoulder out of the joint when he throws me into the hall.

I land badly, hurting the other shoulder while clutching my dangling arm.

Agony surges through me and I grit my teeth, crawling back to what's left of the door, hanging by one hinge.

Thanks for the save, babe. God.

Murphy and Aeslin blur to my side. Murphy gives a slight shake of his head.
Don't go back in there
, the silent look tells me.

I glower.

The apartment blows up—with Matthews in it. One of the fathers of my unborn child.

I scream, leaping to my feet, my arm hanging like a crooked noodle.

Aeslin tackles me.

My arm feels like a live wire attached to my body and I cry out.
Vampires can't survive fire,
I think, before passing out from the pain.

*

Talyn

I shriek.

It's not neat or feminine. It's a loud, shrill bellow of complete terror. The donkey Mutable didn't perish in the house fire where I was held.

He's come back with reinforcements.

I'm claimed by Merck. I'm
Lycan.

So why does he want me?
What can he possibly gain?

Donkey reaches into his bag of tricks and flashes a toothy grin that's so creepy my skin wants to crawl off my body to escape his notice.

“Come here Talyn, or the boysʼ guts get splattered everywhere,” he says pleasantly.

My eyes widen. An antelope, some kind of half-bear and a tiger writhe around at his feet like released snakes. I don't know much, but what I
do
know is he's certifiably insane. A term I'm intimately familiar with.

He's going to take everyone out if I don't go with him.

Donkey might anyway.

I slip out from between Drake and Merck—I'm not having people's deaths on my conscious. Though my tongue sticks to the roof of my mouth from my fear.

“No!” Drake yells, wrapping strong arms around me, easily lifting me.

Donkey pulls out a propane torch, lights it.

Pointing it—at me.

“I'll kill her, Drake. And I know your fire will only swamp backward to the source.”

I make a noise so primal it tightens Drake's arms around me like a vice and Merck moves forward.

Donkey turns to him. “Back off, mutt. Can't help Talyn if I set your fur on fire.” His ridiculous eyebrows waggle.

Really?

I see the shifter with tusks shake his head, struggling to his feet. Getting his bearings, he rushes Donkey.

It happens so fast, later I won't remember the exact order of events.

Drake turns me in his arms, and plunges toward the glass window pane. His skin turns like smooth sheeted glass beneath my body.

Merck moves toward Donkey as Tusks hits him from behind.

An explosion blasts us as we hurtle toward Philips Street. I don't go splat as Drake turns at the last moment, taking the impact for us both.

I do hit my head. On scales.

Fire fills my vision as I lay on Drake's body.

I blink.

Figures fight inside the inferno like blurred shadows. One gets tossed out.

I only close my eyes for only a moment.

Then nothing.

THE END