Power Shift (The Charming Shifter Mysteries Book 1) Read online

  “And, what?”

  Cecil chewed his lower lip.

  “Come on, Cecil. I’m not in the place to figure things out or beg you to tell me things.”

  “Well…” He swallowed. “I know you make a show of being all tough about Hung Durand, but the dude saved your life. And he’s going to watch for signs of…what do you call them? Red Spotted Dick?”

  “Yeah. Crap. That’s going to make it harder to kill him. Now I’m going to owe him.”

  “Don’t be so hard on him. It’s obvious he cares about you. He staunched the blood flow with his own shirt, radioed the coast guard, handed you off to me so I could hold you in the back seat while he drove to where the helo could pick you up.” His fingers worked the cord attached to the bed lift.

  If her mind wasn’t so drugged, she might have felt cheered by this bit of news. “Driving what car?”

  “Your Jeep. He drove. I held you in the back seat until we arrived at the place. He got you on the stretcher. Told me to stay with you and if I let you out of my sight, I’m a dead dog. I’d have stayed no matter what, lil’ Summer. I don’t need threats to know who my friends are.”

  “You’re such a good pal, dawg-man. And Hung’s a…he’s a…he’s somewhat…” Her eyes fell shut. “What do they have me on? My eyelids feel like they’re weighted with sandbags.”

  “Morphine cocktail drip. That’s what Annette told me. If you need to adjust it, you can use this. Here. This button right here.” Cecil’s face appeared anxious.

  “Thanks, buddy,” she mumbled from her trance-like state. “Things have gotten really, really bad, haven’t they?” She opened her eyes to stare at him balefully.

  “They have, true enough.” He chuckled. “Hung said you winged one of them with your wild shots. Probably Dick. Made him laugh. He said the chances of you getting a good shot off were one in a million. Said even he couldn’t get a good sight on them.”

  “So he was the other gunner?”

  “Seems so.”

  “He sure seems to know my property well. It’s like he’s been there before…a lot.”

  “He…” Again his eyes slid away from hers.

  “Just say it, Cecil.” She blew out her breath wearily.

  “He called to check on you. He doesn’t want you to know he called. I gave him my number before we took off with the coasties. Said Red and Dick are laying low. Hiding somewhere. Things got out of hand. They panicked. They didn’t intend to shoot you, at least that’s the word from Charming.”

  “Hmmm.” Her eyelids fell shut again. How do people find out these kinds of things? “How long do I have to stay in here? What did they do to me?”

  “They had to do surgery. You should let the doctor explain. He’ll be back in the morning. Or I could get Annette.”

  “That would be great,” she murmured, halfway to sleep again. When Cecil left, she drifted away, surprised to hear voices a few minutes later. As before, she had to push through the sludge in her brain to focus. Her eyes opened, she blinked, and closed them.

  “Ms. Petit,” a lovely young woman said.

  “Mmm hmm,” she replied, attempting to pry open her eyelids once more.

  “You’re an extremely lucky woman.”

  “Define luck,” she mumbled. “I’ve been shot.”

  “Better than dead. The bullets missed the lungs, missed the major arteries.”

  “Bullets, plural?” Chia asked.

  “Yes. You were hit twice.” She tapped the bandage. “Right here. That’s where one bullet entered and exited. The other got your scapula. That’s going to hurt for a while but you should regain most, if not all of your normal limb functions, with good physical therapy.”

  “Good to know.” Chia smiled and let her eyelids fall. Too hard to keep them open.

  “It’s a miracle that you weren’t hurt worse. I doubt a sharpshooter could hit a target so cleanly.”

  “Uh huh,” Chia mumbled.

  “Your head injury…that’s what we were most worried about. You have a concussion, true enough. Got a gash in your head where you fell on your ski tip and split your forehead. We stitched it up. Might leave a scar.”

  “Uh huh.” She patted her bandaged head with her free arm. “Let me see what I look like.”

  Cecil and Annette exchanged glances.

  “Come on. Let me see.”

  “I don’t…” Cecil began.

  “We don’t…” the nurse added.

  “Let me see my goddamned face. I want to see for myself what those assholes did to me. I intend payback.”

  The nurse left and returned a few minutes later. She handed Chia a mirror.

  Chia winced, regarding herself. Her left eye still somewhat swollen, a huge white bandage across her forehead, scrapes and scratches on her cheeks, her arm in a humungous sling, it strangely comforted her to see the damage done. Not as bad as I thought. And it fuels my need for revenge. “This bandage. It goes past my hairline. Did the slice go that far?”

  “Yes,” said Annette, reaching for the mirror. “We had to alter your hair somewhat.” She smiled ruefully. “Shave if off in places.”

  “That sucks. Pink frosted hair doesn’t come cheap.”

  “It’s cheaper than a life. You could have nicked an artery, collapsed a lung…you could be dead now, Ms. Petit. Consider yourself lucky.”

  “Oh, I do. Sort of. Real luck would have had me not shot at all. But…I’m good. And tired.” Satisfied with what she’d been told, she fell into darkness once more, soaring on soft, white, downy wings to the soft chatter of Annette and Cecil, planning their date, discussing her options, talking all manner of blah, de blah, blah.

  Chapter Fifteen

  As the red and white DeHavilland Beaver bush plane approached the landing strip near Chia’s home, Cecil, outfitted with a voice-activated headset, like Chia, said for the thousandth time, “I sure hope nothing happens to you from flying. You sure can be stubborn.”

  “Did you want to be transported to a trucker, who would have driven us to the harbor to take a pokey tugboat back to Charming? Or become a dog pulling a sled and show your nurse your true colors? Oh, and face the townspeople first thing?” She flashed him a dark look. “I only want to get home, not take the long, slow way home and face my public.”

  “Yeah, but Annette said they strongly advise against flying after a concussion.”

  “And I don’t care what Annette advises,” Chia scowled. While she’d been the “patient under observation,” the entirety of the last few days had hit her, hard. She’d slipped into a dark hole of depression and anger, ping ponging between the two until Cecil had stalked from the room in a rare, pissed off mood. And they’d been quibbling ever since.

  She shifted in the small seat, attempting to get comfortable. They’d fitted her with a sturdy sling that crisscrossed along her back, holding her broken scapula in place, and bisected her front, making her boobs stick out. A large band, attached to the top straps, wrapped around her waist like a corset. No doubt a man made this device, she grumbled, once she’d been swathed in it. At least it beats the table-like sling. Before, I could have served beer using my arm as the serving tray with my dumb ghosts draped over like towels. She glared at them, as they circled the cockpit, pestering no one but her.

  She had no idea what she’d be home to face. Guess I’ll have to deal with my indecision, first, she thought. And find out what’s happened since I’ve been gone. She looked at Cecil, and narrowed her eyes. “Sorry. While you were off screwing Annette, I had loads of time on my hands to think. My thoughts drifted into the negative.”

  “I didn’t simply screw her,” Cecil said, his voice a few decibels louder than needed.

  The pilot let out a guffaw.

  “We conversed, too. She told me what you should expect as you heal.”

  “Why couldn’t she tell me?” Chia supposed she was taking out her bad mood on her buddy but it felt good to let it all out.

  “You told her to get lost. You
told me to get lost. Where was I supposed to sleep? What was I supposed to do? Sit on my hands until they decided on your release date? I think I’ve been more than a good friend to you these last few days.”

  “You two were ridiculously goofy,” Chia said, rolling her eyes. “Oh, Cecil, I’m going to miss you,” she said in a high-pitched voice. “I’ll be back, Annette. Don’t worry, baby,” she countered in a low voice. She pinned him with her gaze. “You know you won’t be back, dawg-man. You’re a nomad, remember? You’re setting her up for heartbreak.”

  Cecil’s forehead furrowed. “What’s got you into such a bitchy mood, huh? My business is my business.” His face brightened, as if his inner light bulb lit. “Oh,” he said, stretching out the word. “I’m the one who’s sorry, lil’ Summer. You have every right to be upset. This is about Hung, huh?”

  Angry tears pricked at her eyes. “No,” she said, a little too quickly. “It’s about…it’s about everything. That news report…”

  “Yeah,” Cecil said. “I should never have turned it on last night.”

  “Yes, you should have. I need to know what we’re dealing with when we get home. I wouldn’t have been ready for such mass chaos.” She blew out her breath. “Frankly, I wish I’d violated my own rules and killed Dick. Whoever put him in the hospital I should give an award,” she said, swamped in self-pity. “I’m modifying that frigging self-defense rule. People need to defend themselves.

  “Red’s got to be hiding somewhere up north. I bet that Mike White guy the news mentioned was one of Red’s relatives joining in. Who the hell killed him…with my frigging gun…in my frigging town?

  “And that reporter looked positively gleeful when he said Hung’s the wanted man, asking the residents of Charming to call the police if they see any signs of him. He’s probably finished his business in Charming and is in the wind, literally.” And I’ll have to come home to a burned down house, thanks to D’Raynged and his grief over losing Sultana. “I know Hung didn’t kill the female vamp.”

  “They said his fingerprints were all over the gun.”

  “That’s because he took it from me. He dropped it in the woods outside the arcane club when he led me out into the woods.”

  Cecil’s eyes narrowed and he smirked. “To do what, lil’ Summer?” He began to laugh, easing the tension somewhat.

  “Not that,” Chia snapped, making sure the arguments continued. “Shut up.” Although I sure would’ve liked to. “It’s a long story.” She let out another deep breath. “What do you think about the news saying Charming being overrun with animals? We have as many animals as the next town, even more if you count the shifters.”

  “I don’t know. It’s probably some kind of spin on something. Probably one of Red’s takes on your hunting laws.”

  “I don’t know, it sure seemed odd.”

  “Okay, get ready,” their pilot said. “We’re landing in about ten minutes. It turned out to be a beautiful day, didn’t it folks?”

  Chia glanced out the window, barely registering the breathtaking, snow-kissed landscape. “Did you leave the Jeep at the landing strip? Who’s going to drive us home? It sure won’t be me.”

  “Uh,” Cecil said, glancing out the window.

  “Uh, what, dawg-man?”

  “Uh,” he said again.

  Chia let her head fall back on the headrest. “Cecil, please. I’m not in the mood.”

  “You’re not in the mood to hear good news, let alone dubious news.” Cecil glared at her.

  “So tell me, already, so I can blow up and we can get it over with.”

  “I can’t wait to go for a run with my boys and get away from you, you know that?”

  Chia began to laugh. “We sound like kids, don’t we?” She reached for Cecil’s hand.

  He squeezed it and let his next words out in a burst. “That guy you don’t want to let anyone know you care about is picking us up.”

  “What?” She snatched her hand away, glancing at the pilot, hoping he’d mind his own business. “Have you been in contact with him?”

  “Maybe,” Cecil said, his eyes darting back and forth.

  Chia banged her head once against the headrest, then stopped when it began to throb. “Ow.”

  “Take it easy. You only have a few painkillers left. We have to fill your prescription when we get back.”

  “I don’t want to live on painkillers. Dag nab it. I can’t even express myself by banging my head against something.”

  “Try howling. Or, here’s a great idea…adjust your attitude.” Cecil glared at her, making her feel like crap on burnt bread.

  She groaned as the wheels touched down, not wanting to see Hung Durand and wanting nothing more than to feel Hung Durand, all in the same breath. Make up your goddamned mind.

  They taxied to a stop and Cecil and the pilot helped her from the plane and onto the ground with minimal jostling and pain.

  Chia scanned the snowy surroundings, looking for signs of the sexy male. Her Jeep sat several yards away, but no one sat inside. “He’s not here. Do you have keys?”

  “Just wait,” Cecil said. “We’ve got this,” he said to the pilot. “Thanks a million for the ride.”

  “Oh, you’re welcome, but you can thank Joseph Ashoroc. He paid for it.”

  Chia turned to Cecil. “I thought you told me the plane ride had been donated.”

  “That’s what Annette said,” Cecil remarked.

  “Annette, Annette, Annette. Find another topic.” Chia’s hands would have flown into the air had she not been strapped into a sling. “Now I’m going to owe him, too? He should be owing me!” A thought whispered through her head that maybe Joseph felt some guilt and wanted to appease it by offering her the plane. Wouldn’t that be swell if someone owed me for a change? She continued her rant. “D’Raynged is pissed, Hung Durand wants my hide, Red Spotted Dick wants my job…what next?”

  “Stop with the bad mood, girl, or I’m going to leave you here to cope by yourself.” Cecil slipped back into quarreling sibling mode.

  “Well, I’ll leave you two now. Got to head to the other side of Charming and fuel up.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry, where are my manners? Thank you for saving me from a long, arduous journey. Safe travels.” She smiled and shook hands with the man, and Cecil did the same.

  “So you do have manners,” Cecil snapped.

  “Of course, I have manners. Politeness matters when you’re in public service.”

  “What about friendship?”

  Chia sighed. “I know, I know. Sorry, sorry, sorry.”

  “You said that already and yet still you snipe at me.”

  They stopped speaking and watched the plane taxi down the short runway.

  After the plane departed, Chia said, “Do you have any kind of backup plan?”

  “Don’t worry. He said he’d be here. Since he’s a wanted man, he couldn’t actually be sitting here, waiting to be found, could he?”

  “He’s probably a hornet or a vulture or a gnat or something. He’s probably sitting in your hair.”

  “Nothing quite so glamourous,” a sexy male voice said to the back of her head. “No shifting for me, I’m afraid.”

  Chia felt an instant jolt of arousal. “What do you mean?” She whirled to face him, noticing the fatigue etched on his face. “How did you sneak up on us? There’s no tree cover for miles.”

  “It wasn’t hard. I was hiding behind the rise back there…downwind, lest you really can detect my scent.” He stabbed his thumb behind him. “You two are yapping like a couple of dogs. All I had to do was ghost walk over here.” He shook Cecil’s hand and said, “Thanks for watching over her.”

  “I’d have done it no matter what,” Cecil said.

  Hung nodded, then, he tipped his head to the side to study her.

  She lowered her eyes, suddenly shy and uncomfortable.

  “Let me see, woman.” He placed his finger under her chin to lift her jaw, touching her cheek tenderly with his other hand. �
��Eye’s still bruised. Cut’s scabbed over. Looks like its healing nicely. Sorry about the scapula. I’ve kicked myself for days for not getting a good shot off. I should have protected you.”

  Her heart jumped for joy at his kind regard. Endlessly suspicious, she sobered it with a practical question. “Speaking of shots, did you…”

  “Nope,” Hung said, quickly stopping her line of questioning. “I’ve had other things to deal with, like not being able to get out of Charming. I didn’t kill Mike White.”

  “Why can’t you leave? Didn’t get your last job done?” Her need to take out her frustrations on others got the best of her.

  His lips pressed together but he didn’t explain. “Let’s get you comfortable in the truck. Love, whatever they used to brace you,” he said, eyeing her with appreciation. “It works.”

  “It wasn’t done for your enjoyment.” She pulled her coat closed over her shirt, scowling and wincing from the stabs of pain.

  “Easy, sugar. You should probably leave everything on display. So you don’t, you know…” He gave her a gold glinted, blue-eyed wink. “Hurt yourself.”

  “Shut up, Hung.” She stalked ahead of him and Cecil.

  When they reached the SUV, Hung said, “You’re in the front with me, dog.”

  “He has a name,” Chia groused.

  “Dog’s fine,” Cecil said. “Don’t sweat it. Don’t start again, okay?”

  “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I’m taking out my frustrations on you both.”

  “I’ve prepared the back as best I could for you.” He opened the door and guided Chia into the seat on the passenger side. Having lined it with pillows, he positioned his glorious, musky smelling, heat radiating body around her to adjust everything until she rested comfortably on the cushy pile. He paused, lingering, their bodies inches apart. His eyes swept over her face, examining every square inch again. His lips parted as if he wanted to say something, but then he shut them and smiled slightly. “Good that you’re still here,” he said, quietly.

  “Thank you, Hung.” Her eyebrows drew together at his show of compassion. “I don’t know what to say, other than thanks.”