Series: Shifter Ops Series by Renee Rose
Total pages in book: 32
Estimated words: 30911 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 155(@200wpm)___ 124(@250wpm)___ 103(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 30911 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 155(@200wpm)___ 124(@250wpm)___ 103(@300wpm)
“Not helping,” I grit out.
“This place smells abandoned.” Declan sniffs the air.
But there’s another scent, faintly floral. I follow it to the back, but there’s nothing but a brass cash register from the 1800s. “Dead end.”
The shadows move behind us, and there’s the unmistakable sound of a racked shotgun. We turn as one, shocked someone snuck up on us without us scenting them.
A slim figure stands in the door with the gun trained on us. “State your business.” The voice is female.
I raise my hands high into the air. “I’m Parker. This is Declan and Laurie. We were sent by–”
The shotgun lowers. “Lucius the Vampire King. Took you long enough.” She turns, settling the gun at ease onto her shoulder. “This way.”
We scramble after her. She’s already walking down the dusty road, but a few strides, and I’ve caught up. She’s a five foot nothing dark-haired woman with a pound and a half of black eyeliner edging her brown eyes. She looks familiar.
“Do I know ya?” Declan asks.
“You tell me, Whiskey Dick.” She glares at him.
“I knew it,” he snaps his fingers. “You’re one of the shifters rescued from the slavers.”
“Ding ding.” She wrinkles her nose. She used to have a nose ring, I remember. It’s gone now.
“Fiona, was it?” His voice turns soft and crooning. “A fine Irish name for a gorgeous lass such as yerself.” I don’t have to look to know he’s got a grin and that look in his eye. His scent has turned candy sweet.
The goth girl sniffs and scowls at the road. Up ahead, there are a few buildings with empty door frames. A ghost town.
“You live here?”
She shrugs.
I toss Laurie the VW bus keys. “Follow us, as best you can.” He nods, his Adam’s apple bobbing, and scurries back the way we came.
The place is overgrown, bushes and cacti crowding around the buildings. A roadrunner darts across our path. Then another. And another.
They’re flowing down the road in the direction we’re going: towards the floral scent that’s up ahead and growing stronger.
A palo verde bush shakes, and a coyote pokes its head out from behind it. Its eyes flash yellow. Declan gives it a wave and elbows me in the ribs. “Look, it’s one of ya brothers.”
“I’m not part coyote,” I mutter. “We’ve been over this.” Data X experimented on me. My animal’s a hybrid mishmash of all sorts of species.
“Then what are you?” Fiona asks straight up.
Declan raises his thick black brows. “Yeah, Parker, what are ya?”
There’s a flash of panic, and a heavy metallic scent fills my nostrils. My world narrows until I’m looking through silver-coated bars that burn and burn…
Overhead, an eagle screams, and I blink in the sunshine.
“Ya’d know if ya heard ‘im laugh,” Declan tells Fiona. “But he hasnae laughed in a long time.”
I blow out a breath. “He’s wrong.” I’m only part hyena. The rest is a big fat question mark. “You know what, it doesn’t matter what I am. What are you?” I shoot back at Fiona.
She shrugs and shifts the barrel of the shotgun on her shoulder “Fuck around and find out.”
The eagle swoops down and lands on the closest roof, glaring at us.
“What’s going on with this?” I wave a hand at the bird. “What’s with the menagerie?”
Our guide heaves a sigh. “Allison.”
“Allison?” I ask.
“I remember,” Declan says. “She was the other shifter with you. The one who attracted all the animals.”
“That’s Allison.” Fiona nods ahead. At our feet, a trio of jackrabbits hop out of the shade of a nearby saguaro. The coyote only watches them with a bemused expression. Even the eagle is stoically not looking at the fresh meat.
A flock of twittering red finches fly overhead.
A young woman steps out from a building and pushes back her dark brown curls. The birds land on her shoulders and arms, still chirping. With her lovely face and flowing skirt, she looks like the heroine in a movie, about to burst into song.
“Fecking A,” Declan says with awe.
“Hello. I’m Allison. Mr. F. said you’re going to escort me to Taos?”
There’s a choking sound from Declan. Probably a reaction to this sweet-faced young woman calling the King of the Vampires “Mr. F.”
“Taos?” I asked. “What’s in Taos?”
Fiona swings the shot gun down and checks the barrel. “A few things he ordered. As gifts. They got waylaid.”
“Go now,” Allison whispers to the birds. “Tell them we’re coming.”
As one, the birds take flight.
Allison turns to the eagle on the roof. “Watch over them. Please?”
The eagle screams and pumps its huge wings, lifting off and heading in the same direction as the flock but at a greater height. Not following to hunt, but to protect.
“Unbelievable.” Declan whistles. “Now that’s a sight.”
I turn to Fiona and Allison. “So we’re taking you to Taos, then. Both of you?”
Fiona racks the shotgun. “I’m her bodyguard.”