Filed To Story: Secret Shifters Next Door Series PDF Free
My dragon didn’t help things. I wasn’t quite feral yet, but things were slowly going that way. Over and over, like a chant, it repeated:
mate, mate, mate, mate. Anytime I wasn’t paying close attention, the dragon tried to take things into its own hands. Just the night before, while cuddling up against Harley, I awoke to find myself nuzzling her neck, my fangs already protruding, ready to bite and claim. The dragon didn’t really understand why we couldn’t do what we were being drawn to do. I had to be on my toes all the time—something else that had me mentally exhausted and put me in a shit mood. It was getting harder and harder not to sink my teeth and cock into Harley and claim her.
The hope that the curse might vanish once Emily was dead was wholly incorrect. The pull I felt and the pain in my body as I resisted, showed it was still in full effect. My feelings for Harley, and hers for me, were real. We weren’t being forced to love each other. Our choice in the matter had been taken away from us, though.
At this point, I really thought that she might accept it. Even the possibility of her becoming like me didn’t seem to terrify her the way I thought it would have. The problem was that she was pregnant. None of us knew what might happen to her or the baby if I claimed her while she was expecting. She was still three months away from giving birth. Ninety days of waiting, in slowly increased agony. My patience was being pushed to the edge, but I would have to shoulder the burden and struggle.
I pulled over about ten miles from Harley’s house, hoping I was far enough away from any prying eyes that I could safely shift. It had been years since I shifted in the daylight, but I knew it was worth it as my body morphed. The freedom of body and mind that came when I shifted was almost enough to make me forget all my problems.
The breeze poured across my body and my wings as I rose into the air. Swooping low across the tops of the trees, then lifting high into the air on a warm updraft released some of my tension. A dragon’s face couldn’t smile, but in my mind, I was grinning from ear to ear, finally relaxed.
My dragon had been cooped up and was stressed out. Mostly from me holding us back from claiming Harley. It needed the release as much as I did. So when a flock of geese heading south for winter appeared on the horizon, I let him have his fun. The godawful honking sounds and the blood and feathers that erupted made the dragon happy and excited. His belly full, and our emotions content for the moment, we made our way back to the car.
Once I was back in the car, I was calmer and a lot more relaxed. The stress was still there under the surface, but it wasn’t as bad as it had been. Regardless, I wasn’t going to stop pushing until all my girls were out of harm’s way. We’d hoped Emily could help with at least getting the hunters off our backs, but so far, there’d been no success.
The day after we found her body, all four of us had returned to her cabin. We’d searched everywhere, looking for clues or information, any hint of Emily’s life. Blayne had found a stack of old identities under a loose floorboard. Yellowed birth certificates, passports, and tax forms. Even an ancient paper driver’s license from the nineteen-thirties. She really had been much older than she looked.
Everything we found showed that, for the most part, she’d simply tried to live a normal life. Nothing there revealed to us why she hated shifters so much. Or why she would align herself with hunters. On my way back from my shift and goose buffet, the answers began to appear. Blayne called.
“Tate? You free?” he asked.
“Yeah, I guess. What’s up?”
“Get to the office.”
“Can I ask why?”
Blayne sighed. “Miles’s friend just showed up. She’s got info on Emily.”
A cloud of smoke poured from under my tires as I pulled the truck into a violent U-turn and sped toward the office.
“I’ll take that sound of squealing tires to mean you’re on the way?” Blayne asked.
“Five or six minutes. As long as I don’t get pulled over.”
“See you in a few.”
Less than five minutes later, I pulled into the office parking lot, barking my tires as I slammed it into park. Attempting to stay professional, I didn’t jump from the car and run inside.
Instead, I did a weird speed walk and had to bite my tongue not to scream when I punched in the wrong code at the front door. Inside, Kennedy said hi and leaned across her desk, showing me a clear view of her ample cleavage, but I didn’t even glance toward her. I made my way down to Miles’s office and found the guys in there, with Siobhan sitting in Miles’ chair.
Steff closed the door behind me as I entered. Siobhan looked much as she had when we first met her. Aloof, and powerful. They waited for me to take a seat before they started.
“Okay, now that everyone is here, can you tell us what you found out?” Miles asked.
Siobhan nodded. “It took some digging, and a lot of questions. I’ll be honest, I don’t usually get involved in the issues of other supernatural beings. This spell, though? It intrigued me. I wanted to know who had created and cast something so singularly interesting.”
“Interesting?” Steff blurted out. “We might all die. Is that interesting?”
Siobhan looked him steadily in the eye. “Honestly, yes.”
Steff looked nonplussed and closed his mouth, deciding he didn’t want to ask any more dumb questions.
Siobhan continued. “There is an old warlock in the north woods of Michigan I have sporadic contact with, but he has an almost encyclopedic memory when it comes to witch culture and history. I gave him your physical description and a detailed recounting of the spell she cast. Almost immediately, he gave me a name. Emiladia Wardlow.”
From within her robe, she extracted a piece of paper. She unfolded it and set it on the table for us to see. It was a photocopied image of a painting. It looked old, maybe from the sixteen or seventeen hundreds. The woman in the painting was young and lovely, dressed in clothing that had been fashionable then. Staring out at us was the face of Emily Heath.
“Holy shit,” Blayne whispered, holding the paper up to examine it closer.
“She was the youngest daughter of the Wardlow clan. The clan had been working with a splinter group of dragon shifters. Something had happened, and they were slowly going feral. The Wardlow clan was trying to develop a new spell that could hold off the process, maybe even cure them from going feral.”
“It seems, the process took too long. One day, while Emily was away in a neighboring valley collecting medicinal and magical herbs and roots, the dragons succumbed to the feralization. They attacked the clan’s small village.” Siobhan swiveled her eyes to me, and said, “It was a complete and total destruction. Men, women, children, babies, all of them. Emily returned some hours later and found that everyone she knew, everyone she had ever cared, ever loved, had been murdered, mutilated, partially devoured?—“
“Okay. We get it,” I said as shame and guilt tried to bear down on me and crush me.
Siobhan raised an eyebrow. “Obviously, Emiladia was… distraught, to say the least. She became known in most Wiccan circles for her robust and unflagging hatred for shifters, especially dragon shifters. It was part of the reason my friend knew exactly who I was looking for. Her hatred for your kind was without equal.”
I buried my face in my hands. I hadn’t thought I could feel bad for Emily. This story changed that. A group of dragon shifters had taken everything she loved. If a witch had come to Lilly Valley and killed all my friends, Harley, and the girls, took everything I cared about? Could I have done the same thing she did? Would I become some shifter vigilante scouring the world, hell-bent on killing every witch I found? I wasn’t sure, but I now understood her hatred, especially for dragon shifters. Most hunters had something similar happen in their background. It