Passion's Prey: The Shadow Shifters (12 page)

They never moved up, never had any more than the scraps they’d always had. And his father grew angrier and more violent with each passing moment. Darel never asked what the guy’s problem was, never really cared. All he knew was what he saw. And what he saw was the brutality inflicted on his mother, whether verbal or physical. What he knew was the answer, beyond honesty and integrity, was payback. His father had been his first shifter kill, and it had been a glorious one at that. He still remembered the scent of his blood as it ran down his jaws, dripping onto the floor. His teeth still tingled with the thought of sinking into the thinning, putrid flesh of the man’s neck. He’d approached him from behind and bit into his neck with enough force that it broke on contact. The other ripping and shredding he’d done was for his mother. He deserved every minute of the torture.

The next day he’d left that awful house, left his father’s shredded and bloodied body on the floor in the bedroom while his mother’s lay in the kitchen completely bled out after his father’s brutal attack on her, and never looked back. Ever.

For more than fifteen years Darel had been working with Sabar. At first it had been here and there, Sabar visiting him on the streets of New York at intervals. Darel had never asked questions. Even when Sabar had come back one time with scabbed-over scars that looked like they’d come from a whip all over his body, Darel had remained silent. He’d respected Sabar because there was an air about the shifter, a total fuck-you attitude that Darel shared. He believed one day they’d be partners in whatever mischief they could come up with. And that dream was coming true.

Except now, that bitch was here.

With the remote in his hand he switched the
ON
button and spoke clearly through the intercom. “I’m ready.”

Through a ten-by-five slit in the wall he watched what was taking place in the bedroom. Yeah, he could just get his ass up out of the chair and go in there to see them, but he preferred to be in his own space during this time. It had taken him a while to figure out what worked best for him, what gave the most satisfaction at the appropriate time, and so far this was it.

The male, a shifter who worked at the club, was just buff enough. His honey-toned skin looked like a succulent piece of candy. Darel’s tongue extended of its own accord in an attempt to lift the male’s scent from the air and taste it. He was naked, his buttocks taut and muscled, biceps flexing as he stood over the female. His dick was long and thick and had the bulk of the pubic hair shaved down to a neat trim. Darel was meticulous when it came to body hair.

The female knew this. She wasn’t a shifter, but one of the girls who danced at the club. Her pubic hair was completely shaved off so that her mound looked like a glossed piece of meat. He could never remember her real name and hadn’t really tried, but her stage name was Raven. She had long black hair, falling in deep curls down her back. Her tits were bigger than Darel’s fists and heavy as they hung from her chest like overfilled balloons. Her skin was an olive complexion that went surprisingly well with the darkness of her hair and the somber dusky blue of her eyes. She had an ass that jiggled when touched. Cheeks that made Darel want to bury his face inside and never come up for air. She was fine and she knew it, worked it like a pimp did his whores.

Darel’s dick was already rock-hard. He released his length from his pants and made himself comfortable.

Raven went right to her knees, taking the male’s length so far into her mouth Darel half expected to see it burst from between her breasts. They’d turned to the side so he could see everything, from the male’s ass cheeks hollowing out as he pumped into her mouth to Raven’s cheeks doing the same in-and-out dance as she held on to that long rod. The male wrapped Raven’s hair around his wrists then pulled on all that mass until she groaned over his shaft. Darel’s eyes focused on the wet shaft, watched the bulbous head swell and begin to drip with desire. Raven’s masterful tongue scooped the white bead quickly.

“Enough!” Darel yelled through the intercom minutes later, and they quickly broke apart.

The male bent Raven over the back of a chair, spreading her cheeks wide enough for Darel to see. Still, Darel sat up in his chair, moving his face closer to the slit in the wall. His dick was in his hand, palm moving on the up-and-down stroke that had him gasping for more air.

“More,” he spoke again and sighed as the male stretched her butt cheeks open wider.

Darel could see her anal entry clearly, could imagine the feel of that tight passage, and growled.

“Now!” was his next directive.

Without preamble the male positioned himself behind Raven and thrust his length into her anus. She yelled so loud the first wave of release hit Darel and his dick jerked in his hand, spurts of come dripping down to his wrists. As the male pumped hard and fast into her, Raven’s knuckles turned white as she held on to the back of that chair while Darel pumped his cock faster, harder.

The shifter came with a roar of his own, a slight shifting of his spinal cord, and a jerk of his taut buttocks. Raven’s body convulsed as her release took over and Darel growled, his teeth pressing into his bottom lip until they drew blood. His dick exploded with come.

“Go home” was Darel’s final instruction as he stood and walked to his bathroom, where he’d work on the hard-on that was once again emerging.

Chapter 12

“Nick’s pissed,” Caprise said from her seat across from X as she clicked off her cell phone.

They were aboard the private jet owned now by the Stateside Assembly via Reynolds & Delgado, PA. From what Kalina had told Caprise, they were working to make the Stateside Assembly a corporate infrastructure that would supply aid to all Shadows in the United States and in the Gungi. The shifter democracy was taking shape right before her eyes, and Caprise wondered if her parents were somewhere in their corporeal state doing the happy dance.

“Nick is always pissed about something” was X’s droll reply.

She had no idea when she’d changed her mind or when it actually seemed like a good idea to go on this impromptu trip with X, of all people. But Caprise had decided and when she did, she’d quickly packed a bag and had Seth drive her to wherever X was leaving from. He hadn’t seemed too surprised to see her, which had almost made her turn back. But that would be running—and wasn’t she growing tired of that course of action?

These chairs were beyond comfortable as she sat back, adjusting the seat belt so that it wasn’t cutting off circulation at her waist. The smell of leather wafted up her nostrils as she let her head lie back against the comfortable console. Looking around she thought of only one word:
luxury.
And since the jet was originally purchased by Rome, she thought nothing of it. He was the leader of the Stateside Assembly, a
Topètenia
of the highest ranking and a damn good lawyer. He had the looks, the money, and now the phenomenal woman by his side to make him legendary in both the human and the shifter worlds.

Her brother was his best friend and hadn’t fallen too far from that same genetic pool of dangerously handsome and a top-notch Shadow warrior. It was no wonder Nick was Rome’s right hand. Then Ary had come along and fit like another piece to the amazingly broad puzzle that formed the Shadow Shifters. She was a
curandero,
a healer, and had made herself right at home in Havenway’s medical center, which she ran with intelligence and efficiency.

Then there was X.
Gorgeous
didn’t quite seem to fit his rugged and lethal persona. Yes, his face, with the skin the delicious color of milk chocolate and eyes as piercing as they were alluring, was a pleasure to look at. But beneath his totally hot body—bulging muscles and a confident stride had always been Caprise’s undoing—there was something else lurking.
Danger
probably described it in the most basic of ways, but it wasn’t that simple. Whatever it was beneath the surface was what made X the man he was. It had molded and created this fearless leader, this absolutely vicious but methodical killer. Again, Caprise noted she should be afraid of him since she knew what he was capable of. In fact, though, she wasn’t afraid, and for that very same reason.

He hadn’t grown up with Nick and Rome, not in those very early years. He moved here from someplace—Atlanta, if memory served her correctly. But that was all she knew. Nick hadn’t told her anything else, and she’d never thought to ask. Casting a quick glance at him now as he stared out the window, she wondered why it hadn’t mattered to her until now. She would be kidding herself if she said that their physical joining hadn’t changed anything. It had, and in a big way. Caprise was honest enough to admit that, even if just to herself.

Maybe she should have stayed in DC, she thought fleetingly. But it was a little too late for that now since they were somewhere over Kansas en route to Arizona. She didn’t really know why and hadn’t thought to ask. It was most likely shifter business, and Caprise figured she didn’t want to know the details. For as much strength as it had taken her to return to DC, she still wasn’t quite ready to claim the heritage that had been thrust upon her. Should she be? After all that had happened to her?

So many questions roared through her mind at this moment, so many issues she’d thought she had a handle on resurfacing to give her contented state a kick in the ass that had everything tilting on its axis. And wasn’t that just how life was: The minute thoughts of safety and completeness engulfed her, everything shifted so that landing on her ass became the norm.

“You’re thinking too hard.”

His voice was deep and raspy, almost like some maniacal villain in a B-rated sci-fi flick. Come to think of it, X’s entire demeanor could easily be mistaken for a villain, rather than a warrior for the good side.

“How do you know what I’m doing?” she asked him. They still had hours to sit on this plane together, so trying to ignore him or having him ignore her was pointless.

“Your scent is full of confusion. It’s driving me insane.”

On instinct Caprise inhaled deeply and exhaled with a shiver going down her spine. His scent was of pure, unadulterated lust.

“Go ahead, say it,” he said, watching her closely.

He had a knack for doing that. Saying things to her that were absolutely true even if she didn’t want to accept them. And he was so damn sure of himself, so sure that if he wanted her that meant she wanted him, which wasn’t exactly a lie.

“I’m not saying anything,” she replied tightly. Then she thought better of her silence and figured if X insisted on tapping into her innermost thoughts and feelings, she could do the same.

“Is sex all you think about?” she asked him.

He shrugged. “What else is there?”

“Work, for one,” she said, staring at him incredulously because she couldn’t believe he’d just said that.

“My day job has me investigating human traffickers. My second job puts me face-to-face with sadistic killers. What would you suggest I think about in my spare time?”

He was hiding. It was obvious to Caprise, because a year ago she would have probably given the same flippant answer if asked.

“Do you like looking for the bad guy all the time? Don’t you ever do anything for fun?”

“Fun is overrated” was his reply.

“I used to think that, too,” she answered.

X laughed. And suddenly Caprise was engulfed with warmth, as if those big strong arms of his had wrapped around her, holding her so tightly yet so comfortably she had no choice but to let down her guard.

“You got a problem with sex addicts?”

“Not at all,” she conceded. “Just makes me wonder, that’s all.”

“Don’t waste your time.”

“Meaning?”

“Don’t waste your time wondering about me. I am who I am and proud of it.”

And then he seemed to go off into his own world again. His thoughts were just as deep as hers, she figured, even though she couldn’t scent his. Her fingers drummed on the arm of the seat and she began to hum. X was proud of who he was and yet he denied that person the freedom to shine. Why? He was a puzzle, one she was sure she could figure out. That would be a welcome change, she thought. Helping somebody else with his problems instead of trying to sift through her own.

After a few moments she realized what she’d been thinking of doing could backfire on her: Not only could her heart end up broken, but there was a chance that she might not be able to tame the beast lurking inside X. That nobody could.

Sedona, Arizona

Sebastian Perry was a thirty-four-year-old renowned bachelor, six foot one, with butter-toned skin, eyes as gray as a cloudy day, and a mind as sharp as Bill Gates’s—if he were in charge of the military instead of being a computer mogul. He dressed better than most of the male models in the country and walked with an air of confidence—some called it swagger—but he’d hold on to confidence because it sounded good, too. An only child to Geneva and Lathan Perry, he was blessed with all the good parts of his parents and loved the fact that all the bad parts had departed along with them after the divorce.

In college he’d majored in hospitality, minored in poetry, and kept a stable of women that still liked to ring his phone even though a good portion of them were now married. Life, and two multimillion-dollar vacation resorts, had landed him in Sedona five years ago. Perryville Resorts were known worldwide, giving their owner even more visibility in the human world. None of them knew he was a lethal beast, his gray eyes turning an eerie shade of red-gold, his teeth growing sharper and longer, his body bulking and covering with fur. It was one of the many secrets he held close to the vest like a seasoned gambler at Caesars.

Perryville Resorts Sedona was located near the secluded Boynton Canyon, sitting on more than eighty acres of natural terrain. Its structure was surrounded by red-rock buttes known for inspiring the mind, body, and spirit. This was the reason Bas stayed here year-round. While he made it a point to spot-check each of his resorts throughout the year, this one was his baby. From the moment he’d opened his first location, he knew he’d end up here. His plan was to expand Perryville until it touched every exotic locale in the world, but here, where he could stand on the balcony to his penthouse suite and look at the magnificent orange and fuchsia swirls in the sky as the sun set over the beautiful red rocks, was where he belonged.