Gator's Challenge (18 page)

T
he Shifter High Council
appointed a spokesperson to deal with the news of their existence. One guess on who was chosen for that role.

The bastard who purposely maneuvered them into revealing their secret took the stage with a great big smile. He wasn’t alone. The where-is-Sue-Ellen question got answered. With eyes downcast and hands clasped in front of her was his little sister, still in the clutches of their mad uncle.

But the fact that she lived wasn’t the most shocking thing about the news conference. Parker’s words were played and replayed on all the news channels. People recited them on the street. Everyone was talking about the revelation.

“My name is Theodore Parker, and I am here to tell you that, yes, shapeshifters do live among you. But despite what you might have seen, or think, you needn’t fear. We’re just like everybody else.”

What a crock of shit.

“Our kind is, with a few exceptions that my company was trying to help, peaceful.”

Whopper of a lie.

“We”—Parker drew Sue-Ellen close with a benevolent smile—“look forward to letting you learn about us.” Ha. The only thing Parker was interested in learning was what it would take to control those making the laws.

As one of his inner cadre, Brandon knew what Parker was really after. He’d made his intentions quite clear. Being the hidden leader of the SHC wasn’t good enough for him. He wanted more power. Wanted a spot in the limelight. So he shoved all of his kind out of the fucking closet into the public eye.

Madman! Despite Parker’s announcement, on a live broadcast no less, with a trusted television news anchor, people couldn’t forget the other videos. The ones showing their more feral side. Those clips of the battle at Bittech brought a tidal wave of problems.

Humanity felt threatened. Humans felt deceived.

The different became hunted. Laws scrambled to accommodate this unexpected development. Accusation began. Innocents died as neighbor turned on neighbor.

All of Brandon’s kind, family and friends, they had to move underground, fight extra hard to appear normal. To appear
human.

Not everyone could fake it. Brandon certainly couldn’t, not with what Bittech did to him.

The world changed, yet Brandon truly didn’t care what happened next. The fact that he lived, unchained and able to roam the world, didn’t help him.

It didn’t make him normal again. When people saw him, they saw the monster.

They screamed.

He got annoyed.

Eat them.

Too often he told his inner self—a now much colder, more cynical dark self—to calm the fuck down. No eating humans.

But they did tempt him, especially when they smelled of chocolate. He still had a sweet tooth.

As he crouched on a rooftop, a living gargoyle observing this new city, yet another place he couldn’t blend in, he wondered why he even bothered to try.

Perhaps he should give up on finding answers or help for his monstrous dilemma. He should forget trying to regain normalcy and accept that this new look would stay with him forever. If he melted into the wilderness and lived off the land, maybe he could stop the yearning. Perhaps, in time, he’d forget what it meant to be a man.

A whisper of sound from behind him alerted him he shared the rooftop. He whirled and couldn’t help but stare.

Willowy shaped, with long hair the color of moonlight and eyes even stranger than his own, a woman stood. She canted her head to the side, perusing him.

Of most interest, she didn’t run. She didn’t scream. Inhaling deeply, she tilted her head back, revealing the smooth column of her throat.

Kill her now before she calls for help.

No. He wouldn’t kill her, even if all his senses screamed she meant danger. Dangerous how? All he could see was her fragile beauty—

The impact slammed him to the ground. The air oomphed out of him as her lithe figure landed atop him with more force and weight than expected. A hand, a strong hand tipped in opalescent claws, dug into his throat. Her eyes stared down at him, the orbs slitted and burning with green fire. Her almost pure-white hair lifted and danced around her head.

“What’s this roaming my city? A male, both unmarked and unclaimed,” she whispered, dipping down low. “I should take you right now.”

Perhaps she should. A certain part of him certainly thought so, and it didn’t help she squirmed atop him.

The fingers around his throat squeezed, yet no panic infused him. If he was meant to die, then so be it. He tired of hiding.

Her lips hovered devastatingly close, the heat of her breath warming his skin. “How did you come here? Tell me your name.”

A name? The one he started the world with no longer seemed to fit. He was more than just a simple Brandon and, at the same time, less than the naïve man he used to be.

“My name is…” Ace? No, he wouldn’t use Ace either. That was Andrew’s rude misnomer. So what did that leave?

“I am no one, and I come from…”
Don’t spread your taint to a town already devastated.
“Nowhere. Who are you? What are you?” Because she smelled like him, but…different.

“What do you mean, what am I?” Her brow crinkled. “I am the same thing you are.” Her shoulders drew back, her head tilted imperially, and for a moment, shadowy wings glistened silver at her back. “We are dragon.”

T
his is
the end of Bitten Point, but stay tuned because you never know when we might visit Dragons.