Shift Into Me (Werewolf Shifter Romance) (The Alpha's Kiss) Page 2

  Suddenly, my serenity began to shake. Violent vibrations throttled my spirit’s vision, and it was like gravity finally figured out I was up in the air. I sped down, plummeting with horrible speed straight to the earth. One by one, the lights on the ground below blinked out as I sped downward.

  The tent Damon and I were in came back into clear view, no longer one point of light out of a million, but the only one I could see.

  My spirit screamed past his bike, pushed apart the tent flaps, and slammed straight into my body.

  “Lily?” Damon’s voice was the first thing I heard. “Lily? You in there?”

  I opened my eyes, staring at him and trembling, trying to get my bearings. “I… I think I just went somewhere,” I said.

  “Are you okay? You were shaking, moaning, and saying words I couldn’t make out.”

  Taking a deep breath, I held it until my thudding heart slowed a little. I was in his arms I realized. “Yeah,” I said. “It was just a dream. A really weird dream.”

  He let out a slow sigh. “Okay,” he said. “Just… making sure.” Softly, he lay back down, keeping me close.

  I curled up again, but this time threaded my fingers between his.

  “I’ve never been this far from Grandpa for so long. Well, since my parents…”

  “Hey, hey,” Damon whispered, curling his fingers against my skin. “Everything’s fine. We got each other, right?”

  Nestling down against his chest, I let Damon’s warmth fill me all the way through. “Yeah,” I said. “I’m just worried I guess. What if your friend doesn’t like me, or, I don’t know, what if I don’t fit in and just make everything harder. I never should have made you bring me. I’m just going to be in the way.”

  “Look at me,” Damon said. It wasn’t a question. “Sit up and look at me.”

  He pushed himself up in the blankets and threw the one covering him off. Sitting there, his head almost touched the top of the tent. Grabbing my hand, he pulled me onto his lap so that my legs draped over his. I could almost feel him against me. A stir distracted me for a second, but somehow I forced myself to focus on his face.

  “I’m just scared,” I said. “But you’re right, I’ve got you and—”

  “If I thought you were going to be in danger, I’d have fought you a lot harder about coming. And,” he paused. “Can I tell you something?”

  “Of course,” I said, running my hand along the bulge of his forearm.

  “I’m a little scared too.”

  A month ago it took an act of Congress to get him to talk about anything more serious than his feelings about a baseball game, and now he’s admitting he’s scared?

  I rubbed his arm softly, squeezing the muscle. “Of what?”

  He shrugged those big shoulders and let out a sigh. “Lots of things. I haven’t seen my friend Hunter in years, for one thing. I hope he’s not mad at me for being who I am. I never expected to be the big guy on the block. It’s still kind of a shock that I’m supposed to lead a whole pack.”

  “But that’s who you are, Damon. Who you were meant to be. Why be afraid of that?”

  Damon shook his head. “It’s a lot of responsibility. And that’s another thing – I don’t even know what the responsibilities actually are. It’s like I’m supposed to just pick up on everything and figure it out. It’s like… sorry,” he groaned. “I shouldn’t complain so much. We were talking about you having a bad dream, not me being tragic.”

  “Uh oh,” I said. “You’re starting to talk like me. That’s a bad sign. A real bad one.”

  A smile danced across his lips, and I instantly felt relief course through me. I didn’t want to be a burden to him. He needed me to be strong and that’s what I was going to do. He was strong for me when my parents’ death hit me like a ton of bricks. I made up my mind that no matter what it took, I was going to do the same thing for him.

  “But no,” I said softly, kissing his neck. “I don’t want you to feel like that. I want you to know you can tell me whatever you want, whenever you want. If you can be strong for me, I can do the same thing for you, okay?”

  “I… should be the strong one. I’m the Alpha. I’m supposed to—”

  “No arguments,” I said smiling. “Remember that obnoxious quote? Behind every great man there’s a woman who loves him?”

  He laughed harder than I expected. “You’re not behind me at all. You’re the award winning writer. I’m just some meathead.”

  “Yeah,” I said. “I guess you’re right. But you’re sure a hell of a meathead. Those big arms, I couldn’t imagine better eye candy, you know?”

  I sat there, watching his face draw up until I knew he was about to protest and then I punched him in the ribs. “We’re good together, Damon. I shifted back to lying down, and pulled him with me, resting my head in the crook of his arm. We’ve both got our things, but we’re really good together.”

  “Not good,” he said. “Perfect.”

  There was nothing else to say. Nothing would be better than that. Instead I just nodded, and kissed the inside of his arm before curling up and nestling down, safe and secure, beside my Alpha.

  That time when I fell asleep, there was a blink of blackness, and then morning came early.

  Two

  “Oh my God, Damon.” I swung my leg over the saddle and stood up, stretching my legs, then bending over to pop my back. The rest of the night before passed without much excitement, and we were up with the sun, back on the road. The last bit of the trip was about eight hours, but it seemed like a whole lot longer.

  Scagg’s Valley, our tiny destination, was even smaller than I ever imagined it could be. “You grew up here?”

  He nodded. There was a telling smile on his face that made me realize he missed this place. “Home sweet home,” he said.

  The place we parked was an old-style town square, the kind you only really see in towns that haven’t changed since the turn of the last century. A two story courthouse rose in the middle. The building had brown, mottled bricks, which were about the same color as the bark on the trees that circled it. After so long in the desert, I had been surprised that the place we ended up was more green and wooded than back home.

  Two men in dress shirts emerged from a diner and exchanged a handshake before parting ways. One of them went right past us, nodding slightly. Damon returned his glance, but remained quiet. An almost palpable tension hung in the air.

  “What are you doing?” he asked.

  “Taking pictures,” I said. I turned my phone sideways, snapped a couple shots of the courthouse, then stepped out into the road to get some of the square. “Figure if we’re going to be here I might as well make a story out of it. How fun would this be? Werewolf town that no one knows about? There’s got to be something to that.”

  He grunted in assent, and then turned to look at a dark-haired man who walked past him, almost bumping against Damon’s shoulder. Across the way, coming out of a thrift shop next to a cute ice cream parlor, another very large man looked down at his telephone, then back up into the sun.

  It hit me a little slower than it should have.

  “Damon. Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Tell you what?” he looked slightly irritated, and checked his watch. He refused to carry a phone, so he told time like Grandpa Joe. “Listen, we’ve got to—”

  “This is… Damon,” I said pausing for a moment. “They all look like you.”

  He narrowed his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, is that supposed to be some kind of small town joke? Fort Branch isn’t exactly Chicago.”

  “No,” I said. “Well okay kinda. But they all look like… Damon, are these all Skarachee?”

  “Shh!” he put up a hand as someone – of course, another huge man with a thickly muscled neck – approached.

  The man extended a hand, which Damon took. “Hello?” he said. “Have we met?”

  “Yep,” the man said. “Well, I mean not formally. Everyone knows who you are though.”

  Damon
cleared his throat. “Everyone?”

  “It’s good to meet you sir, I’m Steve Jacobs. I work over there at the ice cream parlor.”

  This guy who is almost as big as Damon… is a soda jerk? Concentrating on not laughing or inserting some kind of obnoxious joke, I watched Damon shake the guy’s hand very slowly, and for a very long time.

  “Well,” Damon finally said. “Good to meet you, I, uh…”

  “Oh yeah, of course,” Steve pulled his hand away and wiped it on the apron around his waist. “Sorry to waste your time. I’m sure you have better things to do than talk to me.” He laughed nervously and turned away.

  “Actually,” Damon said, “it’s not like that. I’m sorry to be rude.” He shook his head and grabbed the guy’s shoulder. “We just got here, and are kinda worn out from the road.” He looked back at me. “You got food over there? Burgers or something?”

  Steve, surprised, said, “Yeah of course, come on over. I’ll make you something special. It’s not every day the new Alpha comes back to town, you know.”

  Damon shot a perturbed glance around, but shrugged as soon as his new best friend turned around and started leading us up the street. As soon as he was out of earshot, I tugged on his hand. “Is this what you were talking about? Being some kind of local celebrity?”

  He shook his head. “I had no idea. I mean the last time I was here, I wasn’t really aware of this whole wolf pack thing, not really.”

  “Where you guys from?” Steve turned. “Well I know you’re from here, all of us know that.” He paused, like we needed to digest that information for a second. “I mean where did you go after your parents left. Sad news about them, too, sorry about all that.”

  “My parents are traveling,” Damon said, with an almost defensive tone in his voice.

  I pulled on his hand.

  “Oh, yeah, of course. I didn’t mean anything by it.”

  Damon shot me a glance. “Fort Branch,” I said. “In Ariz—”

  “Of course! How’s the elder alpha?” Steve looked down, and his voice took on a weird, reverent whisper.

  “Poko?” Damon said, looking at me with a comically confused face. “He’s fine… I suppose?”

  Thankfully, the ice cream parlor’s jingling door drew a merciful close to Steve’s overly friendly inquisition. “So what do you two want? Burgers? Good. That’s all we’ve got.”

  He was gone before either of us could say anything in response.

  “Well then,” Damon exhaled, sitting down in a booth that was large enough for him to comfortably slide underneath.

  When I sat, I felt like a little kid. “Does this seem big to you?” I asked. “Or…”

  Insistent buzzing in my purse interrupted me. I reached in, fished out my phone and stared at the number. “Huh,” I said. “Yet another California number I don’t recognize. Why won’t you get a phone?”

  “Who is it?”

  “I just said I—”

  “Is it Hunter?”

  Sighing, I handed him the phone. “They’re really cheap these days,” I mumbled. “We could get a family plan or something.”

  “Hunter?” Damon said, too loudly, into the phone. “Is that you? Oh man, is it good to hear your voice.”

  I’d never heard him get so excited over a phone call. Even one from me, I thought, then decided that it was probably better to bury that before it grew anywhere. As he talked – about where to go, if we could stay, all kinds of things – a growing number of people filtered into the restaurant.

  At first I didn’t pay any attention. Not all of them were Skarachee, or I guessed they weren’t anyway, from their size, but they all walked past our table very slowly. Everyone made sure to get a good look at Damon, who was just chatting away, oblivious.

  “Go on!” Steve pushed through the door and parted the growing crowd. “Leave these two alone.” After setting our plates down, he turned around and started waving his arms above his head. Damon finally figured out something was happening, and said his goodbyes, then slid my phone back across the table top to me.

  Face up of course.

  “Uh,” he said. “Is something the matter?”

  “Somethin’ the matter. Is somethin’ the matter, he says.” One of the smaller, older men stepped up to the side of our table.

  There was nowhere to go, nowhere to hide. I wanted to crawl inside my purse. We couldn’t stand up, couldn’t get out. Damon seemed fairly at ease though, which made me feel even more trapped, like I was the only one panicking.

  I looked at Damon, but he was staring the old man in the eyes.

  “Well,” he began. “Is something the matter? I’m not sure why I’ve drawn a crowd like this.”

  Steve shook his head vehemently.

  Even though there was nothing overtly wrong, not yet anyway, I began to get the sense that there was something slightly askew about all this.

  “Takes a murder to get the Alpha to come to town,” the old man said. “It’s like we don’t even exist. Kin folk don’t matter when you’re living in some other town, doing whatever it is you do, is that right?”

  Steve turned away from us and got surprisingly loud. “Okay, all right, you all need to leave Damon alone. He’s got other things to do that worry about you all squabbling.”

  Damon put his hand on Steve’s arm. “You don’t need to defend me. I’m perfectly capable.” His voice was a little too loud for my comfort, a little too proud. This was a side of him I’d never really seen before.

  “Why don’t we have any answers?” That same old man pushed past Steve and reached out to grab Damon who let him get a fist full of collar without reacting. “We deserve answers! If this cub’s our Alpha, he needs to act like it!”

  A storm that only I would recognize gathered on Damon’s face. When he looked back at the man, that glance could have stopped a truck. The whole room went quiet. Seated at the booth, with an open-faced hamburger in front of him, Damon cleared his throat and grabbed the edge of the table.

  “I don’t know what’s happened here,” he said softly.

  Everyone leaned closer to listen.

  That was when I noticed several smaller couples, two of them with babies, sitting around other parts of the restaurant. They were all just staring at the gathering in front of our table, but it was obvious from the looks on their faces that they didn’t have the slightest clue what was going on. I wonder if they think we’re about to have a town meeting?

  “Then what—”

  Damon silenced the old man with another glance. “I’m here to find out. And you’ll keep your voices down about our business. The safest thing to do is keep this all quiet. At least until we know what happened.”

  “But I know what happened,” the old man interjected. “I saw it. It was Carak—”

  “You know what you want to have happened.” Damon’s voice was absolutely flat. The last time he talked like that was when he threw his brother out of Fort Branch.

  A shiver crept through me. Damon put his hands flat on the top of the table and looked down at it before turning his eyes back to the old Skarachee. “I didn’t expect to run into this. My parents never told me anything about this place’s politics, or anything else. But I’ll say this. I’m the leader,” he said the word clearly and slowly, punctuating it with an arch of his eyebrow. “I was chosen, by the elder, to lead this pa— this group, and that’s what I’m going to do. What’s your name?”

  “Me?” the old man asked, slightly taken aback.

  Damon just glared. I could feel the power emanating from him.

  “Uh, Christopher Merton, sir.” The old man’s voice shook when he replied.

  “All right, Christopher. I promise you, and everyone else, that if you let me have some time, I’ll figure out what’s going on.”

  “Y – yes sir,” Christopher mumbled.

  The crowd started backing away, and seizing the opportunity before anything else happened, Damon grabbed my hand and urged me to my feet. “Good. Now,
I also want you to stop blaming others for things we don’t know they did.”

  His point was obvious. He didn’t like the way Old Christopher threw around his accusation that the Carak – Damon’s brother’s pack – was behind the murders.

  “But sir,” he said, “the Ca—”

  Damon laid his hand on the man’s shoulder and squeezed slightly. Then he shook his head. “We don’t know anything. We will, though. I promise. That’ll just have to be good enough.”

  With that, he pulled me close to him, apologized to Steve for the uneaten burger, and we made our way to the door.

  In the few steps between our table and freedom, an aged hand grabbed my shoulder. I turned, and Damon tried to wrench me away.

  “Let her go,” he snarled.

  “No,” I whispered. “He doesn’t mean any harm. Who are you?” I asked the man who grabbed me. “I feel like I’ve seen you before, or…”

  “I’m the shaman,” he answered in a hushed tone. “I found the bodies.”

  “Wilton, right?”

  He nodded. His eyes were something from another world. Unearthly and so pale blue they were almost clear, as he studied my face, it felt like he was plumbing my brain. “You’ve been having the visions,” he said so low that only I could hear. “I see the marks on your soul.”

  “What are you…?”

  Before I could finish, Damon jerked me again, as the crowd grew tighter. The spell of Wilton’s eyes snapped off.

  “We’ll speak again, green one,” he said. “Soon.”

  As soon as the bell on the front door jingled, and I felt the brisk wind whip through my hair, reality hit me right in the stomach. I blinked, not sure if my speaking to the shaman was real or a hallucination. When I turned back, the Skarachee were staring at us through the store’s glass front.

  There was no sign of the shaman.

  “Damon,” I whispered. “They’re all just watching.”

  His hand on my waist felt like fire tingling against my skin. “Let them,” he said, not turning back. “Come on. We’ve got somewhere to be. Hunter’s expecting us. I promise that won’t be quite as strange.”

  “Do you know any of them? I mean, you lived here your whole life, right?”