Power Shift (The Charming Shifter Mysteries Book 1) Page 12

  Chia inhaled sharply, jealousy and arousal making her insides blaze.

  “The only option left is to get my job done and get outta here. It’s got to be up to you to figure this out and it’s going to take way more than a day to accomplish. Buy some time. Do one thing tonight then beg for more time.”

  She backed away. “Why don’t I demand it? Seems like that would be the stronger play.”

  “Good plan.” He took another step.

  “Why aren’t you glowing?” She glanced left and right, trying to plan an escape route.

  “Excuse me?” Hung looked at her as if she were nuts.

  “The world around me…enhanced by vamp…everything glows…even me.”

  “Afraid I can’t answer that.” He stepped closer.

  She stumbled into the arms of the carved bear fence post, trying to avoid the icy creek.

  “Think about it. You’ve got me by the balls, woman. Besides being framed, I can’t take care of Red, according to you or I’ll be tried for murder. There’s no such thing as self-defense, so you’ve told me, which I think is bullshit. The entire state of Alaska lives by statute 11.81.335. Justification: Use of Deadly Force in Defense of Self…may use deadly force in self-defense upon another person when and to the extent the person reasonably believes the use of deadly force is necessary.”

  “I had to make a change! People were killing shifters and calling it self-defense. It was nothing but bullshit. That’s what it was.”

  Hung ignored her. “But, no…not Charming. Charming’s a protected space. It would be so easy to rid this world of Red Mountainbear, love.” He emphasized his point with strong fingers placed along her neck, gently palpating the vulnerable bridge between her shoulders and head. “But I’m doing my best to adhere to your rules.”

  She inhaled, sharply, hypnotized by the man.

  “You’ve got to up your game. Red’s aggressive. What can you do to best him?”

  “I’ve got ideas.” She placed her hands on his chest, ready to shove if necessary.

  “I’d like to hear about them,” he said, bringing his lips within kissing distance, maneuvering his hands until his fingers laced with hers, drawing her arms overhead, pinning her to the fence post. “Later…” He brushed his nose up and down her cheek. “But you might have to break a rule or two,” he said in a voice so damned seductive she nearly forgot her whereabouts.

  Her mouth parted. Sure, she could duck under his arms, scoot out of the way, grab her gun and shoot him. Okay, maybe not…he’s got my hands in his vise grip clutches…again. Right at the moment, the kiss option appealed to her crazy, overactive hormones, holding sway over the kill option. “A smart woman never plays her whole hand,” she breathed.

  “No?”

  “Never. Not even when the big, strong male has come to save her, offering up thoughts she’s already considered.”

  “I see,” he said against her mouth.

  “Do you?” she breathed into his. Off in the distance she heard a rustle of bodies. They seemed to be racing along the snow in her direction. She heard faint barks and yips, and grumbling growls and glanced to see soft shimmers of apricot and lavender like tiny glowing seed puffs floating in her direction. Dog pack. Great. I can see the aura’s of the dogs. She extended the tip of her tongue, letting it slide along Hung’s luscious upper lip. She pushed her hips into his, feeling his hardness.

  He brought his lips to hers in a crushing, consuming kiss.

  Oh, sweet Jesus. She hummed into his mouth, overcome with sensation, staying tuned to the approaching canines. Are you telling me I’ve got the advantage over him? He can’t hear them? She sighed into his mouth as his tongue slid into hers. His solid chest pressed into her full breasts, making them ache. The dogs came closer, appearing like larger specks, their loping stride sounding more like horse hooves with her enhanced hearing. I don’t want to do this but I can’t let them see me kissing Hung Durand. She turned her head to break the kiss.

  “Playing hard to get?” he smirked. Backing away from her slightly, he positioned one hand to secure her wrists and used the other to guide her jaw back toward hers.

  “Not really. Playing another card, more like it,” she murmured. “Sorry.” She brought her knee to his groin in one swift, violent move.

  He doubled in pain, wheezing. “You little bitch. What the hell?”

  The dogs came loping into view, still yards away.

  “Don’t you ever assume I’m weak or need answers, asshole,” she yelled at the top of her lungs, hoping the dogs would hear her. In the blink of an eye, she unsheathed her gun, pointing it at Hung’s folded over body. Damn, damn, damn, he’s never going to want me now, she thought, remorse making a quick appearance.

  She fired the gun, aiming near his head, barely missing him as Hung quickly shifted into some kind of winged creature and weeble-wobbled into the sky, away from the pack.

  So much for shifters not being able to shift under duress. That kick had to hurt his stiff, hard…. She almost groaned. So close!

  The dogs increased their pace, the brown and white husky in the lead. Cecil burst into human form, sprinting toward her, concern evident on his face.

  “Who was that? Hung Durand?” Cecil, naked of course, stood panting, trying to catch his breath while the other dogs jostled around him, tongues lolling, heaving from their exertions.

  “Yeah.” She spit the taste of him into the snow in a show of toughness. “Jackass was snooping around my property. I showed him.”

  “Are you all right, lil’ Summer?” His eyes scanned her face.

  “Yeah, I’m fine, I’m fine, dawg-man. Is it time to rest already? So soon? I didn’t put out your signpost.”

  “No, nothing like that. It’s barely eight. We came out to tell you we found Red’s den. His hideout. We’ve got to move like stealth dogs. Grab your cross-country skis. Get them. Go!”

  Chia turned and ran toward the barn.

  When she returned, skis and boots in place, gliding effortlessly along the snow, backpack on her back, she asked, “Where to?”

  “We’re headed for that hill way over there.” Cecil studied her. “What’s in the backpack?”

  “Snow shoes in case the terrain gets rough.”

  “Good call. Do you have any kind of halter or rope? I’m thinking of pulling you so you can keep up with the pack. We’re fast.”

  She rolled her eyes. “I’m pretty fast on these skis.”

  “Lil’ Summer, please get a halter. It’s called skijoring. It’s a known sport.” He told her as if patiently explaining something to a stupid or slow person. “Top speed of the pack is about forty five miles per hour. Of course, I’ll slow having to pull you but I think I can still pull you faster than you can ski. And together?” He whistled. “We’ll ride the winds.”

  “Okay, okay, be right back.” Chia slid back to the barn, removed her ski boots, and rummaged around for an old halter her grandpa used when plowing fields with his donkey. He’d developed a method for thawing the frozen soil, clearing and nourishing each field with manure, composted tundra and a “slurry” of salmon, some creek water, and a small amount of other ingredients to “increase biological life.”

  He grew greens and root vegetables in raised beds amidst endless protests that he couldn’t do it. Not only did he do it, the entire town partook of his bounty. Not possessing a green thumb, Chia hadn’t been able to keep up the tradition. Still, she was proud of the kind of stock she came from. Her people gave back to the community. She carried the tradition in her own way.

  She grabbed the halter and hustled back to the pack. Cecil had already shifted to husky. He threw back his head and made some sort of rumbling bark which Chia interpreted as, “Saddle me up, lil’ Summer and let’s go!” She fastened the halter around him, making it as small as she could, grabbed the reins, stood tall, and said, “Mush.” Almost jerked from her balance as Cecil found his rhythm, she began to glide across the plains, leading to the hills….leading to the pla
ce her enemy—one of them, at least—hid…on her land.

  That thought alone nearly made her cupcake-frosted hair burst into flames. She would not, could not let the presence of the man who wanted her job, who wanted the shifters gone, who wanted Hung Durand, sully the land she treasured.

  Chapter Thirteen

  The sky spit sleet as she joggled over the snow, as if sent as a deterrent. It stung her eyes, making her wish she’d brought ski goggles. It also tended to blur the light show around her, which seemed helpful for the task at hand…namely, keeping her wits about her, keeping grip of the leather halter, and trying to keep track of where they were headed.

  They traversed several miles until Chia felt so chilled, she’d bet her life her blood moved through her ice-cold veins like a Slurpee. She’d bundled in her usual winter attire, from high tech undergarments, to tried and true outerwear, layer by layer, head to toe. The weather, though, had turned frightful, making her wonder if it were infused with magic. She’d been so busy she hadn’t had a chance to look into the history and use of magic in these regions. Perhaps another law would need to be implemented on its use and practice.

  Finally, the sleet turned into tiny snow spits, as if the cloud gods were intermittently coughing. The air still clung to sub-zero promises. This damn weather is warm one day, back to arctic temps the next. At least I can see. Chia looked around as she glided across the icy snow, once again immersed in a sparkling wonderland.

  The landscape felt familiar, the way things feel when you’re dreaming, and then you wake up and say, “that wasn’t my home, but in the dream, I was certain it was.” She wondered if they’d transported through a space warp kind of divide. This is so odd. I’ve traversed this land for miles. I’m as familiar with it as my own skin and bones. This place looks both known yet completely unfamiliar.

  Cecil, in keeping with his husky spirit, tugged tirelessly, keeping up with the pack.

  As they approached Two Mile Lake, Chia yelled, “Can you dogs do the lake?”

  The husky barked and entered the solid, arctic mass at a sprint. His legs spread into a sprawling clip and he, Chia, and all the dogs slid along the ice on their backs, sides, or bellies.

  “Okay, I guess that’s a negative.” She got up, dusted herself off, grabbed the halter and they gingerly made their way to the edge of the lake. They proceeded through the snow at a slow, lumbering gait.

  They reached the base of a sharp incline bordering the glacier and the group came to a stop. Without thinking, he blurred into human form, standing naked, trussed by the straps.

  Chia burst into laughter. “Nice, Cecil. You’re my submissive.”

  “I’ll play that way with you if you scratch my belly,” he grinned. “Or fondle other areas.”

  “Stop it,” Chia said, blushing. “Yours are…” She glanced at his crotch despite her inner admonition to not look. “Sort of in hiding at the moment.”

  “Don’t you worry. They’ll come out of hiding for you like that.” He snapped his fingers. “I’ll leave on these leather straps for inspiration.”

  Chia’s blush grew warmer. “What’s going on that makes this place look unfamiliar? It doesn’t look like my property.”

  “Didn’t you see the wall of energy we ran through?”

  “I could barely see anything at all. The sleet kept stinging my face.”

  “That’s it. That’s the wall of energy. Canines sense energy,” he said proudly.

  “Huh. So then…where are we?”

  “Your property as seen through the eyes of someone else.”

  Chia cast her eyes about. The contours of the land looked the same but something didn’t feel right. Something felt alien and unfamiliar. “It doesn’t look all that…inviting.”

  “Nope, it doesn’t. This is how it looks through Red and Dick’s eyes, I imagine. Like enemy land.”

  “Makes no sense. So, are you telling me, someone, maybe Red or maybe Dick, cast some super spell out here? On my land?”

  “They’re up to no good. You’ll see. And if they cast it on or near your land, there’s a reason for it. They’re sourcing you.”

  “Sourcing me how? Like my ghosts? Apparently, I’m their food source.”

  Cecil scratched the side of his head. “I don’t know about that. Either you have some mega power none of us are aware of that they’re trying to tap into, or…I’m not all that familiar with magical practices but one of the women I fuc…” He glanced warily at Chia. “One of my sex partners told me about the laws of magic. When you cast a spell against someone, or against something that person loves or cares for, you have to use something of theirs. Everyone in town knows how much this land means to you, being as it was your granddads. Since they don’t have a lock of your hair or one of your teeth…”

  “One of my teeth?” Chia asked, horrified. Her hand pressed against her mouth as if to protect the contents.

  Cecil waved his hand in the air. “I wasn’t paying all that much attention to her when she told me. We were busy doing other things. Anyway, something about sourcing and the size of the spell. This promises to be a big one.”

  “Dag nab it! I’ve spent the last three years making this a safe place to live and haven’t put much time into understanding or even being aware of magic. I assumed it wasn’t a…you know, a thing.”

  “Oh, it’s a thing, all right. You need to keep your ears open. Sniff around more. There’s a lot that goes on around here under your radar.”

  “I guess so. I’ll have to add it to my growing to-do list. This is alarming.”

  “There’s nothing you can do about it now, lil’ Summer. Save it for another time.”

  She blew out a breath of despair wondering what on God’s green earth she’d done to set off everything happening around her. “A couple days ago, life was simple,” she groused.

  “For some,” Cecil answered. “But not for everyone. There’s been growing discontent. Some feel like industry and trade are gridlocked because of all the rules. Others feel the shifters don’t pull their weight around here. You’ve been too preoccupied to pay it any mind.” His eyes dropped to the other dogs. “Sorry, but I had to say it.”

  Chia felt dumbfounded. How could I have been so blind? It’s my obsession with sex, isn’t it? Maybe a nun’s life is in the cards for me. Angry tears welled in her eyes. She brushed them away with her glove, turning her attention to the dogs.

  A fine looking boxer, Shep, Peatey the border collie, a standard poodle, and a couple mutts, all stood in the snow panting from their run.

  “Don’t cry, lil’ Summer.” Cecil patted her back. “You got any kind of backup plan?”

  “No,” she shot back. “Didn’t think I needed one.”

  An awkward silence fell between them.

  Cecil shifted back and forth in the snow. “The fellas are tuckered. You’d best get on your way so we can head back sooner than later.”

  Chia glanced at Cecil’s nakedness. “You’ve got to be cold. Here,” she said, turning away. “Lucky for you, on impulse I brought your new pants.” She removed her backpack and dug around for Hung’s pants. She handed them to Cecil, averting her eyes from his lower region, crisscrossed with leather straps.

  “Thanks. But I only shifted to give you the skinny on what’s next. You’re going to have to climb that hill. Snow shoes will cut it halfway up, but right there?” He pointed to a distant high up ledge.

  Chia stared up the side of the mountain, grateful for her enhanced senses. Otherwise, she might have been unable to see it. “Yeah?”

  “That’s where you’re headed.”

  “And what will you be doing?”

  He shifted uncomfortably back and forth. “I’ll, uh…I’ll need to be here with my homeys.” He patted Shep’s head. “Right, boy?”

  The German shepherd barked in agreement.

  “I don’t think so, Cecil. I’m not climbing up there by myself.”

  “You need to see for yourself. Go ahead. Go on now. Get on up the
re.” Cecil shooed her with his hands. “Once you’re up on the ledge, look down toward the east. Plain as day.”

  “Come on, Cecil. You’re the guide. Guide me.”

  His head shook back and forth like a rattlesnake tail, his blue eyes terrified.

  “You’re not…you’re not scared of heights are you?”

  “Nah. Nothing like that.” He looked away from her.

  “You’re scared of heights.” Her jaw hung open. “Your breed are known climbers, Cecil.”

  “You’d better go. They might have left already.” He quickly shifted back to canine, the leather straps hanging around his sides, leaving her gaping.

  “Whatever. Watch my skis at least.” She removed her equipment, thrusting the skis, points up, into the snow, and retrieved her hiking boots from her pack. Once she’d donned her snowshoes, she took off up the hill, moving carefully with catlike grace. She glanced over her shoulder once, to see the brown and white husky watching her. He barked encouragement…or something…to her. She lifted her hand in acknowledgement and continued.

  She performed a herring bone step up the hill until it grew too steep, then switched to a kick-step, jamming her toe several inches into the powdery incline, forming small steps. She winced, realizing the climb down would be a real bitch and a half.

  When snow shoeing no longer seemed prudent, she removed them, stuck them into a drift, and looked up at her destination, squinting into the darkness. Not a lot of illumination out here. Must not be much life. Or else the vamp blood exchange is wearing off. She carefully proceeded up the icy, slippery slope, wishing she had her crampons and climbing gear. “Cecil could have mentioned this part,” she grumbled. Her body neared exhaustion, muscles shaking like a sewing machine needle as she pulled with her arms, pushed with her legs, and paused, resting against the snow. Why, again, is this important? Can’t I merely take someone’s word for it that Red and Dick are up to no good?