Shift Happens (A Carus Novel Book 1) (28 page)

He laughed; a great sound that warmed my heart, but not enough to drown out the guilty feeling deep in my chest. What came over me? Why couldn’t I tell Wick what I planned? Independence didn’t go poof after years of becoming an ingrained habit, but I’d opened up. A bit. My strategy for tonight wasn’t that devious—I just didn’t plan to wait. I would enter the house during the initial surge and use the commotion and confusion as camouflage to search out Ethan. I learned long ago not to count on others to do my job for me. My hands would be dirty before the end of the night and that was okay with me.

If someone took Ethan’s head before I had a chance, either intentional or accidental, I’d still belong to Lucien. Still trapped. Still
owned
. I couldn’t let that happen.

I looked up in time to get a close view of Wick’s lips before they pressed into mine. Well, maybe I’d enjoy this for a little longer. I’d forget the job we had tonight and my intentions to get as far from Lucien and the Werewolves he controlled. The tension in my muscles released, flowing from my limbs. And then I tensed again. I couldn’t let Wick get attached if I planned to leave. Stealing the last of my resolve, I pulled away.

“Let me guess? You need to mentally prepare?” Wick grumbled.

“How’d you know?”

Wick’s lip quirked. “You’re running out of excuses.”

“It’s not an excuse.”

“A badass assassin like you.” He brushed my cheek with his thumb. “Should not need to meditate before a job.”

My mouth opened to say something, anything, to deny his accusation. His thumb pressed against my lips, effectively silencing me.

“I’ll give you tonight, Andy. But after this job…” He leaned down to draw in my scent by the crook of my neck. He let his words hang in the air and smiled at my gaping expression before stepping away and leaving me to my thoughts.

****

When I came downstairs, I found Wick and a number of the pack curled up on the couches and chairs around the television. It took me two seconds of looking at the screen filled with atrophied humans to figure out what they watched.

“This is how you prepare for a raid?” I turned away with a grunt. Obviously, not everyone could be a professional.

“Not joining us?” Jess asked.

“Definitely not.”

“What’s your beef with zombies?” John demanded, coming across a little defensive, like he found it insulting I wasn’t jumping up and down screaming “yay” like a little girl.

“You mean, besides hearing my brain cells die every minute I watch?”

“It’s not that bad.” Wick looked over his shoulder to wink.

“Yes it is. I don’t understand this fetish for everything zombie. The plot line for each show is the same.”

“Is not.” John frowned.

“Is too. ‘Oh no. The zombies are coming to get us. We could easily outrun them, but somehow we run in circles and can’t outwit lobotomized humans. Oh no! I’ve been infected. But I won’t tell my group because I’ll be different…’” John and Wick didn’t look impressed. Maybe I overdid it with the theatrical hand gestures and fake damsel in distress fainting.

“So you don’t like zombie movies?” Jess asked with a dry voice.

“No.” My hands went to my hips on reflex. “If there’s ever a zombie apocalypse, I’m going to hole up somewhere with my guns and knives and stay away from all the dumbasses.”

“And these dumbasses would be?” Jess asked.

“Uh, weren’t you listening? Everyone else!”

“A bit of an exaggeration.” John’s voice pinched the air as he crossed his arms.

“Say what you want, but there appears to be something about zombie apocalypses that renders the non-infected terminally stupid,” I said. John looked about to say something, but I overrode him. “Case and point!” I pointed my damning finger at the television screen and waved it around a little.

One of the female actors pulled back her sleeve to look at a zombie inflicted wound, before covering it back up and glancing back and forth to see if anyone saw. Dramatic music followed and then the show cut to commercial.

No one spoke. Everyone looked at either me or John.

“Okay. Maybe you have a point,” John conceded. “But before you start doing your happy dance, know that your attempt to ruin this show for me failed. I’ll still watch it.” He popped a chip in his mouth. “And I’ll love it even more knowing it pisses you off.”

“Ugh.” Though tempting to tell him to chew with his mouth closed, it would come across as petty. I’d already won the argument.

“What’s everyone else’s motive?”

“Same as John’s,” Ryan quipped. He looked away immediately to avoid contact. A dig, but given that he voluntarily spoke in my direction for the first time, I took it as progress.

Jess shrugged. “I’m outnumbered.”

“I like that they have guns and shoot stuff. There tends to be a lot of things blown up, too. That’s good.” Wick smiled. “Besides, it makes me want to smash things. It’s perfect motivation before a raid.”

“Are you a seven-year-old boy trapped in a man's body?” Did they take nothing serious?

John laughed along with Wick. “We’re all seven-year-old boys at heart.”

The door slammed and by the time I turned around, Steve ran around the corner into the living room. He carried a case of beer in one hand and cradled four bags of chips with his other arm. “Did I miss anything?”

“No…” Jess’s lie stank up the room. She looked away.

Steve halted. “Oh man! You started without me?”

“Relax bud.” John relieved him of the case of beer. “It’s saved. We’ll start at the beginning.”

The groan escaped my mouth before I could clamp it shut.

Steve eyed me suspiciously.

“Don’t,” John warned, shaking his head at his packmate.

Steve turned to John. “Zombie hater?”

John nodded and they both shot me disgusted looks.

I held their stares. “I feel like I’ve justified my stance on this matter.” Looking at the couches, I considered my options. “Think I might join you.”

John groaned. “You can’t stay if all you’re going to do is sit there and make bitchy comments.”

No point denying I intended to do exactly what he accused me of. I turned to everyone else and gave them a sympathetic look. “Fine, then. I’m going to do a little reading, to improve my mind.”

“Good luck with that,” Steve shot as he opened a bag of chips. He misjudged his strength and ripped the bag open, sending chips flying across the room and eliciting a string of curses and barbs from the others. He shrugged, picked some off the coffee table and popped them in his mouth.

Frowning, I considered how at home Steve seemed with Wick’s inner circle, yet the first time I met him, he’d been at that awful gas station. The words escaped before I could filter. “How come you weren’t around when Wick first imprisoned me in this house and now you’re here
all the time
?”

Steve turned to me with a mouth full of potato chips. He started to speak and then, realizing exactly how full his mouth was, thought better of it.

Wick placed a hand on Steve’s shoulder. “Steve is one of my enforcers. He was out of town on pack business during your…confinement.”

Steve gave me a wide, close-mouthed smile. He looked like my childhood pet hamster when he shoved all the food in his mouth. Didn’t look the ‘enforcer’ type at all. My eyes narrowed.

“Why were you at the gas station that day?”

Steve gulped down the contents in his mouth and shrugged. “Duh. It’s a gas station.”

“But you didn’t buy anything. Why were you there?”

Steve shifted in his seat and glanced at Wick, which answered my question—Steve had been following me on Wick’s orders. Their faces looked apprehensive, as if bracing for a thunderous reaction. They wouldn’t get one. If I’d been in Wick’s position, I’d have me followed too.

Shaking my head with a chuckle, I turned back to the stairs. “I’ll be in my room.”

“Want some company later?” Steve called out. A low growl vibrated the air behind me, followed by a thump. When I looked over my shoulder, Steve rubbed his shoulder with a smile and Wick looked murderous.

“Sorry, it’s a zombie-lover free zone.” I smiled.
He’s baiting you,
I sent to Wick.

I know
.

I never heard anyone huff in my head before. It felt interesting, to say the least; like my brain cells were candles and he blew them out, but only for a moment, because then they were back up and running.

Steve pretended to pout, but his eyes sparkled.

Wick’s grin spread across his face and he gave his enforcer a triumphant look.

I couldn’t help it. “Don’t look so pleased, Wick. Same rule applies to you.” I spun on my heel to everyone’s laughter. Everyone’s but Wick’s.

We’ll see
, he shot back.
We’ll see.

Sandwiched between Clint and Allan, I couldn’t shake the feeling I was a donut being delivered to the police station. When we piled into the SUV earlier for the drive to Ethan’s mansion, I tried to call shotgun so I could sit in the front with Wick. It took one shake of Allan’s head to stop Wick from agreeing, and Allan pulled me into the back with him instead.

“I’m surprised you’re here,” I said, and turned to Clint. Seeing him for the first time since I thwarted his attempt to enslave me as a pet, I expected him to be more upset about the whole thing, yet nothing about his demeanor implied hostility. In fact I couldn’t get
any
impressions of his mood. Relaxing back into his seat with loose limbs and slow easy breaths, he looked like he should be wearing yoga pants and chanting “Om.” Why wasn’t he pissed off? Should I be worried? My scalp prickled and my stomach felt like a snow globe being shook by a five year old. What was he up to?

Earlier tonight, I’d been relieved to be free of Clint. But now? Now this empty feeling in the depths of my stomach kept expanding, the mere presence of Clint reminding me of how close I’d come to enslavement.

“Why’s that?” Clint asked.

“You’re too valuable to Lucien.”

Clint shrugged. “Ethan tried to assassinate me. It’s not something I can ignore.”

“Ego can’t take it?”

Clint laughed and shook his head.

Allan’s lip twisted, the movement small, and almost imperceptible, but I managed to catch it from the corner of my eye. I guessed correctly, then, or close enough.

“But if something were to happen…” I let my voice trail off.

Clint smirked. “Worried for me? I’m not without my own skills. Something Ethan should’ve realized. If he had known, he would’ve left me alone.”

“Known what?”

Clint’s smile widened and he shook his head. “Nice try, kitten. I’m sure you’ll figure it out soon enough.”

“Allan gets to call me kitten. Not you.” I said. When did I become okay with the Japanese Hulk using that nickname?

“It fits.” Clint reached to do something to my face, caress it maybe? I batted his hand away before it reached me, and not in a playful way. Who knew where it had been.

“Being your sex slave was taken off the table.”

Clint looked away.

“Are you pouting?”

He turned back toward me and gave me a flat stare.

“I’m guessing yes.”

“I will have you, Andy,” Clint said. “You will screw up and I will be there ready to claim you.”

The intensity of his eyes bore into mine. I cleared my throat and looked away, and my wolf, not liking the submissive move, growled so deep and low in my subconscious that I didn’t realize right away Wick snarled from the front seat.

Clint’s eyes glanced to the tense Werewolf before returning to me. “And no one will do a goddamn thing about it.”

****

The wind sliced past my skin like a butcher’s knife through a chicken bone, so strong it hacked against my exposed flesh.

The men had already parked and ambled out of the vehicles. The community playground, downwind from Ethan’s mansion, filled with naked pre-shift Werewolves and Vampires, all milling about finalizing plans. More cavalry occupied the other parks surrounding the house, far enough away to be undetectable to the Wereleopards’ noses and sentries. Not only would it be too late to run, but by the time Ethan sensed the attack, there’d be nowhere to run to.

“Remember, you’re going to wait,” Wick said to me. “When we give the signal for you to come in, stay behind me. Let me and my wolves take care of Ethan for you.”

I shot him a quick smile and nodded. Wick planned to immobilize Ethan for me, so I’d only have to waltz in and sever his head from his body. I couldn’t let Wick do that. No way would I let someone else do my fighting, or chance something going wrong. Clint and Allan’s presence made my skin itch. I also didn’t want Wick to put himself in unnecessary danger. Not for me.

Wick growled when I yanked off my shirt.

“I said I’d wait, not
how
I would wait,” I said. I crossed my arms over my bra.

He shut his mouth and stalked off. Only to stop twenty paces away before marching back to stand in front of me. Planting his feet in a wide stance inches from mine, he gripped both my arms and loomed over me. “Be careful,” he said with a gruff voice, as if his vocal cords sprouted coarse wolf hair. He leaned down and pressed his lips tenderly against mine before whirling around and running off to join his pack.
Fucking alphas
. He didn’t even give me a chance to slip him some tongue.

When the assault team spread out, turning their backs on me, I shucked off the rest of my clothes and willed the change. Skin folded in on itself, feathers sprouted, my body condensed. I launched into the air.

Circling the mansion, I made out the wolves and Vampires moving into position. ‘Team Lucien’ easily maneuvered around Ethan’s sentries, having scouted them out beforehand. Angling closer to the house, I searched for an open window. There were several. But which one would lead to Ethan? And what did he look like? I didn’t know because no one had a picture.

I’d look for the pompous ass who ordered everyone around with a flick of his wrist—a stereotype, sure, but it hadn’t led me wrong yet.

A grand ballroom with giant floor to ceiling windows faced the ocean. Long black out curtains were pulled to the side, but the edges still showed to the outside world. Seeing nothing to perch on outside, I battled the offshore wind to do a number of fly-bys. A few vamps sauntered about, but the large, red velour chair at the end of the room, looking an awful lot like a throne, remained empty. I couldn’t make this stuff up. Who had a chair like that? Ethan. That’s who. It practically screamed Vampire Master because without fail, they were all over the top and easy to spot. Lucien had a similar chair.