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Blood Shift (The Charming Shifter Mysteries Book 3) Page 4


  Chia pounded the back glass of the shell with her fists.

  The man grinned at her through the filthy pane. He dangled some keys before his face. Then, he fit one into the camper, and locked it, before striding out of sight.

  Chapter 5

  Chia clutched Cecil’s wrist the entire journey, keeping her fingertips pressed upon his pulse. Bruised from being jostled about on the rigid metal floor of the pitch black covered truck bed, her throat aching from yelling, she finally gave up her caterwauling. She peered around the truck bed, finding a pile of clothes. After tucking them under her head as a sort of sweaty-smelling pillow, she lay quietly, until the truck came to a stop.

  Sitting up, she whispered, “Cecil. Cecil. Wake up. Don’t die on me, buddy.”

  His eyelids fluttered open. “Huh? Where are we?”

  “We’re in the back of some asshole’s truck, going God knows where. Some shadow knocked the bears and me to the ground, then, an eagle shifter or his minion took us as his prisoners. Told us we’re going to see Red Mountainbear.”

  Cecil pushed up to sitting with a groan. “I’m sorry I took off like that. I reacted. I get scared of confrontation.”

  He looked so forlorn Chia wanted to wrap her arms around him. But now was not the time for hugs and consolation. “I know you do, buddy. But you came back. And you kept the leader from chewing my head off.”

  Cecil brightened, a boyish smile forming on his face. Then, his forehead furrowed. “How are you doing? Any major injuries?”

  “I think we both got lucky. I’m pretty banged up as I imagine you are, but…” She shrugged. “What are you going to do but keep on?”

  Cecil nodded. “That’s sure my way. The dog pack and I can get beat up badly sometimes when we tussle with other dog packs. We simply pick up and keep going—unless our legs don’t work.”

  “Well, mine still work. Yours?”

  He nodded again, propping himself on his forearms. “I think so.” He wiggled his toes and made circles with his feet. “Yep. A little sore but all good.”

  “Here.” She handed him the stack of clothes she’d used as a pillow. “I found these in the corner. No doubt the shifter asshole has to keep them on hand for his own purposes.”

  “Thanks.” Cecil donned the clothes as they waited for whatever came next. When done, he waved his arms around. The cuffs of the shirt came up to his forearms. “The sleeves are too short. I look like an idiot.” He fingered the waistband and held it away from his hard belly. “Dude. No fucking way. These are going to fall around my ankles when I try to walk.”

  “Dude, yourself,” Chia said, rolling her eyes. She searched around the truck bed, finding some loose wires. “Here. Put this through the belt loops and twist it together.”

  “Jesus. I’ll look like a clown, all so that you can keep your prim and proper head together.” He threaded the wire together and twisted the ends shut. “Happy now?”

  She smiled and batted her eyelashes at him. “You always look good, Cecil.”

  “And yet you never try the merchandise,” he muttered. “I could make you sing, girl.”

  The driver’s door of the truck opened and slammed shut, causing the truck bed to shudder.

  Chia put her finger to her lips. “Shhh.” She stilled as footsteps clomped near the pick-up.

  Metal striking metal met her ears like someone slid a key into the lock. The hatch door lifted, and both Chia and Cecil blinked against the glare of snowy light.

  A different man, uglier than the one who’d tossed them in the truck, came into view. His face looked pockmarked from bad acne and scarred from a knife blade or two.

  “Welcome. My house is your house…not.” He laughed at his dumb joke. “Get out.”

  Chia gave Cecil a nervous glance before scooting to the edge of the truck bed.

  “Out!”

  She and Cecil stepped into the too-bright light in a small, snow-covered parking lot.

  “Hands behind your back,” he said.

  Chia eyed the snowy field surrounding them. She gave a calculating gaze in Cecil’s direction.

  He lifted his chin almost imperceptibly.

  The ugly guy stared at her, then, Cecil. He whipped a switchblade from his pocket and snicked it open. “Going somewhere?” He tossed the blade. It spun in the air, the knife edge glinting, before landing in his palm, handle first.

  Cecil shook his head. “No, sir. Not us.”

  “Good,” he said, slipping the blade back in his pants before fastening handcuffs over both of their wrists. Next, he bound their cuffed hands together with a chain. “Come on,” he said, shoving them. “Get your asses in gear.”

  “Where are you taking us?” Her gaze swept the building in front of her.

  Standing two stories tall, with a brick facade, it was the same abandoned structure she’d driven past plenty of times on her way out of town. It had once housed a thriving snowmobile and sky factory until the jobs were outsourced to China. Since then, it stood as a testament to brighter times.

  Her eyes swept the surrounding area.

  A stream flowed down the hill, behind the factory. It pooled about half a mile away and served as a watering hole for shifters and animals alike. A group of wolves lapped at the water’s edge. They lifted their heads and stared in her direction.

  She hoped, if they were shifters, they’d telepathically get the message that she and Cecil were in trouble.

  Instead, they turned as one and loped away.

  She sighed.

  “To see the guy who’s going to bring you down to size.”

  I’m already pretty small… barely five feet.

  Chia’s eyebrows shot up. “Guy? What guy?”

  The man shoved her along.

  “Do you have a name or should I call you fat and ugly?” She snickered. “Maybe fugly for short.”

  He sneered at her. “Get moving, bitch. The name’s Johnson. Dick Johnson.”

  She almost burst out laughing at his name until she saw the look of rage in his eyes. “Mr. Johnson. So not a pleasure to meet you.” Dick? Didn’t Hung say a guy named Dick told him there was no bounty hunter money for finding the eagle? And the guy who tossed us in the truck…he said something about the eagle providing intel. She filed that info away in her mind.

  “Chia,” Cecil cautioned in a low, whispery voice.

  “What? And what’s with the Chia? You never call me by my first name,” she hissed.

  “I am now. Stop with the sarcasm, or we’re going to get killed.”

  Dick yanked on the chains binding their cuffed hands together. “Shut the fuck up and let’s go.” He practically dragged them up the steps and into the foyer of the decrepit building. It smelled of decay and something far worse…Something like death and rotten eggs. “Sit here for a moment, will you?”

  “Do we have a choice?” Chia snapped.

  Dick affixed the long chain between them to a hook hanging from the wall, next to a couple of straight-backed chairs. “I’ll be right back.” He strode away, heading down a dark hall.

  With her hands dangling slightly above her hips, Chia whispered, “Fish in my pocket and get my phone. I can’t reach it.”

  “Can I feel around while I’m in there?’ Cecil waggled his eyebrows.

  “Ew, no!”

  “Then, no.”

  “Cecil. My hands are cuffed behind my back. Your hands are cuffed behind your back. Which one of us can back up into the other and fish free her phone, hmmm?” She batted her lashes at him. “Besides the fact you don’t have your phone.”

  “Oh. Right. But wait a second. First, you’ve got to yank up my trousers. This wire isn’t working to keep them on my hips.”

  “Right. You only want me to stroke your skin. Not happening.”

  “I’m serious. I’ve got a gangsta look starting.” His gaze dropped to his hip bones. The pants hung low, barely above his groin.

  “Okay, okay, okay.” Chia maneuvered her hands so she could hook his belt lo
op. She tugged, shimmying the pants upward.

  “Thanks. Now you.” Cecil backed up and jammed his hand down her pocket. “Got it.” He handed it to her.

  “Can you see the display?”

  Cecil craned his head around. “Sort of.”

  “I’ll press where I think the phone icon is.” Her fingers fumbled on the screen. “Did I get it?”

  “Yes.”

  “Is it on the speed dial display or the keypad?”

  “Can you twist it my way?” Cecil squinted.

  She turned it, trying to keep contact with her fingers on the screen.

  “Speed dial.”

  “What’s the top number?”

  “Mine. B big blue square with a C on it.” He smiled.

  She slid her fingertip down. “Next one?”

  “I don’t know who it is. There’s an W next to an H. White house?”

  Her cheeks grew hot. “That’s the one.”

  Cecil’s brow furrowed. “Isn’t it supposed to be HD for Hung Durand?”

  “Never mind.”

  Cecil’s eyebrows rose. “Don’t tell me you programmed him in your phone as Well Hung.” He hooted with laughter.

  “Shut up, or someone will come running.” She jabbed the screen. “It is connecting?”

  “Yep.”

  “Can you hear a dial tone? Ringing? Anything?”

  Cecil tilted his head. “Nope. It looks like it's hanging there, unable to connect. Maybe you have no bars. That’s odd. I’ve driven past this building hundreds of times. I usually get the strongest connection out here.”

  “Maybe they cast a cellphone blocking spell.” Cecil slid an anxious gaze in the direction Dick had disappeared.

  “Yeah, maybe.”

  At the sound of clomping boots, she said, “Quick. He’s coming back. Here, back up into me and put my phone back.”

  Cecil did as told.

  “Ready?” Dick said as he approached from the hallway.

  “For what?” Chia asked.

  “Don’t be stupid.” Dick unlocked them from the wall, caught the chain binding them, and hauled them forward.

  Chia stumbled along, next to Cecil.

  His legs shook as he tottered by her side.

  They made their way down a long hallway, then down a flight of stairs where they emerged into a large room, nearly the size of a football field. Chia frowned, peering at the strange factory setting. Large machines covered the entire floor.

  “What is this place?”

  “Oh, this?” Dick said in a congenial manner. “This here factory is going to provide jobs to the people of Charming. It’s job security is what it is.”

  “But why? They don’t need jobs. Business is booming.” Chia chewed on her lip.

  As if he hadn’t heard her, Dick gave them a wide smile. “The boss. He wanted me to show you around. He’s upstairs.”

  “I didn’t ask you about your boss.”

  “Yep, he’s awaiting you.” Dick lifted his finger and pointed overhead.

  Chia’s gaze lifted. She peered and blinked at the tiny window overlooking the factory. “He’s up there?”

  “Sure is. Say hi. He’s monitoring this whole conversation.”

  “Hell, no. I can’t stand the man. Why would I say hello?” Chia lifted her chin and glared, hoping Red could see her. Then, she pivoted, so her back faced Red’s presumed office, dragging Cecil in a circle by the chain that cinched them together. She gave Red the finger from behind her back.

  A loud laugh boomed.

  Chia scanned the ceiling, finding loudspeakers hanging from the ceiling.

  “Bring her up. Such a delight, that one,” Red said.

  “You got it, boss.” Dick yanked on their chains.

  They shuffled toward an industrial looking elevator and entered.

  Once the doors closed, Chia slammed her knee into Dick’s groin, her favorite go-to move. He doubled over.

  “You fucking asshole,” she hissed. “You’re going to pay for this.”

  “Lil’ Summer!” Cecil cautioned. “You’re going to get us killed!”

  Once Dick caught his breath, he wheezed, “I don’t think so. You’re the one who’s going to pay.”

  “Yeah?” Chia said. “How’s it going to look to your boss that I ground your junk into your stomach in the elevator, huh? Someone’s not doing his job, thinking I’m nothing but a piece of fluff.”

  The elevator stopped, and the doors slid open, revealing a spacious office. She tried to step forward, out of the lift.

  Cecil yanked her back. “Wait!”

  Dick huddled in the corner, trying to recover from her knee to his nuts.

  “We’re going, Dawg-man.” She tugged him from the elevator.

  Once outside the lift, Chia cocked her head, seeing no one. Then, the room grew completely dark, obscured by shadow. The temperature dropped to sub-zero.

  Frosty prickles formed on her neck and scalp. Her mouth grew dry. Even her skin seemed parched and papery, as if something drained the fresh air from the room. A foul, acrid smell, like rotting eggs, met her nose.

  Dick straightened.

  Chia glowered.

  Cecil shook like a dog.

  The black, shadowy figure gathered over the desk and crackled into fractal light patterns and symbols, like dancing swastikas. Then, it congealed into the visage of Red Mountainbear. He sat at his desk, grinning expansively.

  Chia’s stomach recoiled, stabbed by forks of horror. Several months ago, she’d had the pleasure of shooting the bastard. He’d disappeared into black nothing, but not before fading into the same patterns. Later, Hung had confirmed—the dude was no doubt a shadow shifter. But knowing that and witnessing that were two different things.

  “What’s with the swastikas, Red? You a white supremacist now?” Chia tried to move her arms but the jangling chains prevented it.

  “I’m nothing of the sort. These symbols are five-thousand years old. They represent good luck and good fortune.”

  “Ha-ha. Very funny. How’d that work out for Adolf Hitler? He murdered countless innocent individuals to support his cause, using that symbol as his own. And then, in the end, he lost. This symbol has been transformed into one of terror. Should I be worried for my town?” The cuffs were grinding into Chia’s skin, causing pain. She used the pain to fuel her anger.

  “It’s not going to be your town for much longer.” Red turned to Dick, frowning. “Everything okay, Dick?”

  “Fine, fine.” He shuffled in the room in obvious pain.

  “What do you mean it’s not going to be my town much longer?” Chia took a step forward, dragging Cecil along.

  Red shrugged, turning his attention back to Dick. “Well?”

  “Where do you want them?”

  “They’re my guests. Remove their handcuffs, please. They’ll think we’re bad hosts.” He faced Chia and Cecil. “Can I get you anything? An aperitif? Beer? Wine? Soda?”

  “What you can get, is far away from our town.” Chia practically spat the words from her lips.

  Dick fiddled with their handcuffs and bindings.

  “I’m here legally. My property transaction went through, fair and square.” A cold smile formed on his lips.

  “Like hell it did. I was duped!” Her hands-free, Chia rubbed at her raw wrists. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught Cecil doing the same.

  His gaze darted around the room as if seeking escape.

  My poor, poor Dawg-man. He’s such a scaredy cat.

  “No. You weren’t paying attention.” Red looked smug. “I hear you’ve been consorting with a certain vampire.”

  She bristled. “What? What the hell do you know about anything?” She wanted to fly at him, to shift into a lion and tear his throat out, but sadly, she had no super powers. Instead, her teeth ground together. She willed herself to look taller than she was and badder than she felt. “I’m going to run your ass out of here. You’re never going to be allowed within a hundred acres of Charming.�


  Red’s eyes narrowed into slits. He placed his palms on the desk. Then, he straightened a notepad that lay on the gleaming wood.

  Taking a deep breath, he said, “That’s where you’re wrong, Ms. Petit. You made this a shifter sanctuary, did you not?”

  “Yeah, so?”

  “So…I and others like me are shadow shifters. According to laws you put into place, I’m welcome here. Protected, even.”

  Chia wanted to explode. Her hands flew up in the air, gesturing wildly. “What? No way. You’re not a real shifter. You’re something evil. Something despicable.”

  “I had my lawyers look over the bylaws put so carefully into place by you. There’s no designation about what kind of shifter is protected. In fact, I read something about ‘shifters of all sizes, shapes, and persuasions are welcome.’ How would it look if you were to discriminate against someone like me? Why, you’d look like a racist.”

  “A racist? Me? No way. I welcome everyone!” Chia stomped in a circle, unable to believe her ears. She came to a halt in front of Red’s desk. Gripping the edge of the desk to keep from doing something stupid—more like something else stupid besides putting an ordinance in place that protected the asshole before her—she said, “And what do you mean others like you are shadow shifters?”

  “Dick,” Red said, gesturing with his hand. “Call in the others.”

  Dick exited the room through a small door near the back. When he returned, a host of shadowy shapes followed him. As they entered, the room became darker and darker, and colder and colder, until Chia couldn’t see her hand in front of her face or feel her fingers.

  “Chia,” Cecil whispered. “I think we’re in big shit trouble.”

  She reached for his fingers and clutched them hard. “I think you’re right.”

  A light show of fractal patterns exploded around them, as the shadow shifters resumed human form. They shone with a sickly, yellowish light, like filthy kerosene lanterns.

  Soon, she and Cecil were surrounded by naked men and women, each one uglier than the next.

  Chia took a step back, bumping into one of them. She yelped.

  Red got up from his desk and strode toward the throng. “Meet my fellow shadow shifters. We’ll soon be making ourselves at home in these parts. Oh, and, by the way, Ms. Petit. This is private property.”