Dead Shifter Walking (3 page)

Chapter 2

The office was bathed in warm afternoon
sunlight, making me pull on the itchy wool jacket for the millionth
time as I sat in the plush chair in Grams's offices downtown and
wriggled in my seat, equally displeased with the pencil skirt she
had me wearing. Who wore wool anymore? Ugh! Grams did prove a
point, though, that I needed to go shopping. I shrugged and
wondered where in the world I would put my new outfits.

We moved from the offices into the conference
room when too many people had decided to air their grievances.
Whether it was motivated by the rumor circulating about last night
or by the fact that I was back in town, I didn’t know or really
care.

A young man sat at the other end of the mahogany
table. He might have been the eighth or ninth; I was losing track
as I ran my bare feet over the soft carpet. God, Grams had good
taste in everything! The conference room wasn’t sterile like all
those other trendy room seeking not to offend. Everything about it
bespoke elegance and grace, from the soft peach walls to the lined
bookshelves to the deep maroon carpet I was enjoying.

“Thank you, Mr. Scott,” said Grams, dismissing
the man. “We will take your suggestions into account and let you
know if we are able to adapt them into our system.”

Before Mr. Scott rose from his chair, the door
burst open, almost torn from its hinges. An incubus, wild with
blood-red eyes, was dragged in, fighting against two other incubi,
trying to reach a petite blonde human who was behind Mallory, a
vampire I knew well.

I sprung from my seat, my earlier boredom and
bare feet forgotten.

“Report,” I demanded, putting myself between the
riled incubus and Grams.

Mallory reached behind her and pulled the petite
blonde farther into the room. “She,” Mallory started annoyed,
“accidently drew first blood.”

“Fuck,” I whispered. First blood drawn by
another person for an incubus and succubus was a powerful amplifier
of whatever our current emotions were. All rational thought fled
and the need to destroy spread like wildfire.

Luckily, training could diminish the urge and
redirect the power into our fighting abilities, and, if training
started early enough, first blood was never an issue.

“She was dancing with him,” the incubus hissed.
“Liar! Cheater! Bitch!” he screamed, lunging for her.

“Mallory, how fast can you get―”

She interrupted me with a hand. “Already called;
ETA five minutes,” she said, reading my mind.

I nodded. “Did you explain?” I asked, indicating
the terrified human in our midst.

She shook her head.

I sighed, moving the girl into a seat away from
the angry words being spouted in the corner. “Do you understand
first blood?” I asked her as she wiped her tear-stained petite
face.

She nodded her platinum head, sniffling. “Good.
Now, the vampires will bleed both you and him.” Terror gripped her
features. “It’s the only way I know how to take away the desire of
first blood without killing one of you.” I decided, at that point,
not to mention it wasn’t a sure thing. I had been on cases where
even the letting of blood had not extinguished the desire.

The fear was rolling off her in sickening waves.
“What’s your name?” I asked gently.

“D-Debbie,” she stammered, casting a fearful
glance at where they were restraining the incubus.

I smiled. “Debbie, everything is going to be
okay. I am very good at my job.” I unwound a thick coil of power in
my core infusing it with compassion and contentment until I saw
Debbie visibly relax in her chair.

I glanced at Mallory, who nodded, indicating the
other vampires had arrived. Not any vamp could drain living beings
within an inch of their lives. Only those with control above the
rest could; they needed a good thirty to forty undead years to
perfect it, and even then, I had to intervene sometimes.

“All right,” I said, standing. “Debbie, you come
with me.” She stood ready to follow me out.

“No, Olivia,” said Grams, “please stay here;
everyone needs to see how to deal with this instead of someone
dying needlessly.”

I nodded. Besides Grams and myself, two of her
aides where present, watching with wide eyes. Being an aide to a
political figure in the human world was night to the day of being
an aide in the politics of the supernatural world. Aside from their
ability to fight in order to defend themselves and those around
them, they were selected because Grams believed they would someday
succeed her and have the courage to make the hard choices. Their
names were Ali and Grant and they each belonged to minor clans. Ali
was a descendant of Medusa, her blood too diluted to be considered
a demigod, but it left her with enough power not to be considered
human. Grant had a more colorful background as a gypsy. Unlike the
stereotype, Grant could contact the dead as easily as breathing and
place curses with terrifying results. They were each older than me,
and I was fairly certain they had written me off upon meeting
me.

I am not political, and whatever agendas they
were pushing, I couldn’t care less, unless, of course, they crossed
one of our laws, and I had to put them down.

I turned back to Debbie. “Okay, let’s sit back
down,” I said, smiling.

She didn't respond; she was turned away from me,
intently watching the two vamps who had just entered the room.
These dolls had apparently been reading too many vamp love stories,
judging from their outfits. They were decked out in designer pants,
dark sunglasses, and, I’m fairly certain, silk button down shirts.
I almost laughed out loud.

They shared a nod with Mallory, who looked
underdressed for her vamp part in jeans and a tank top, but I was
impressed that she wasn’t being intimidated in the least.

“How did this happen?” Ali asked from behind
me.

Mallory answered, “They were preparing for
tonight at Kitten when we heard the crash. A case of glasses fell
and broke; best guess, it was an accident, which is why we brought
them here instead of letting nature take its course.”

“Smart move,” the vamp with the longer brown
hair said, removing his sunglasses to reveal piercing green
eyes.

“Thanks, Morgan, your approval moves mountains,”
Mallory responded blandly.

He smiled at her and was about to say something
else when the incubus in the corner started up again.

“Let’s get this over with,” I reminded them.

Morgan nodded and said, “Tate, you take the big
boy. I’ll have myself the lady.”

He slid up with a practiced smoothness.

“Hi there,” he said looking down at Debbie. He
only had a few inches on me; at five feet ten inches, I was tall
for a female in whatever race we were comparing.

He slid a finger down her bare arm, achieving
the shiver he had been going for. “What’s your name?” he asked
gently.

“Debbie,” she breathed out in awe.

Morgan smiled without showing his pointed teeth.
“Debbie,” he said, making her name sound like a promise, “can you
sit for me?”

I couldn't deny it; up close, he was devilishly
handsome. His green eyes danced as he made us all feel we were
imposing by being there, the pale vamp skin was a perfect contrast
to his chestnut shoulder-length hair, but the kicker had to be his
blood-red lips.

Debbie slid into the seat at his request, and he
followed her down on one knee. Gently, he took her wrist into his
own large hands, careful not to lose eye contact as he lowered his
lips to her pulse beating there, placing a most tender kiss.

I rolled my shoulders; I really needed to get
laid. He wasn’t touching me, and I wanted him to sink his fangs
into me as well.

“Please,” Debbie whispered.

Morgan raised an eyebrow seeking confirmation;
blood given freely was a monumental deal for some vampires. It
seemed Morgan fit into this category.

“Yes, please,” she said again just as
softly.

A primal growl came from Morgan, revealing his
fangs biting gently down on her soft flesh. I released the breath I
didn’t realize I had been holding. Debbie’s head rolled forward and
Morgan moved to support her body.

I slowly moved away from the pair, my eyes
searching for the incubus. Tate was having a more difficult time
subduing him, but he told the guards to move away from him as he
continued his hypnotic talk. Was he actually sporting a Mohawk? I
think he was.

I watched the incubus try to break away from
Tate’s gaze, and then as Tate took a deep breath, reaching out, the
incubus’s eyes caught sight of Debbie and Morgan. The roar he let
out was deafening.

“Protect her,” I said to Morgan as the incubus
broke free and scrambled onto the table.

Sliding across the table on my ass, I sucked a
deep breath. He hit like a bull, knocking us both off the table,
with me landing on top after our roll. Quickly, I pulled my
thickest ropes out, telling his limbs they were immobile. I had to
admit it was a cheap trick, and it was usually seen through
immediately; however, that was usually with a rational individual,
not a first-blood-driven beast. I would also admit that I kicked
out more power than most. But don’t worry; that will come back to
bite me soon enough. There’s a price for going against another’s
immediate desires, even when I have their best interests at
heart.

I felt more than saw Tate behind me.

“Now,” I whispered as he knelt next to me.

Sparing a glance, I saw the conflict on his
sharply formed face; it wasn’t freely given anymore. I pulled more
power from my core, mimicking the contentment and security I felt
with Morgan, leaving out the sexual attraction.

The incubus heaved a sigh, his limbs going
weak.

Tate looked at me and I nodded in response as he
took the limp wrist from me and waited, poised.

“Say it,” I commanded.

As in a dream, the words sounded from his mouth.
“Freely given; it is freely given,” he repeated, looking in Tate’s
eyes.

Tate flicked a final look towards me before
drawing the wrist to his mouth and pulling down his fangs as they
entered into his skin.

Again, I released the breath I was keeping in my
chest. Checking my outfit, I belatedly realized I had torn the
skirt clean up the side. Oops. I shrugged, meeting Grams
disapproving scowl.

Pulling the braids off the incubus wrists, I
watched carefully for any movement to buck Tate and me off, finding
none I slowly, ever so gently eased off the contentment. He
stirred, slurring a sentence I couldn’t understand.

I waited, holding my breath again before pulling
off the rest. I left one strand to ground myself; once all my magic
was pulled back into me, it would hurt like hell.

“Grams,” I said, my voice sounding strained,
“make sure even if they touch, there’s no reaction; otherwise, when
he’s strong enough, we’ll be back in the same situation.”

She nodded.

“Where are you going?” Grant asked from behind
his glasses.

I smiled, staggering back a few paces.

“Shit,” Grams said. “Everyone cover their eyes,”
she yelled with authority.

Hitting the floor in between the bookshelves, I
made sure Tate had covered his feast’s eyes before I pulled all my
magic in. The rebound effect was awful; golden light swarmed in my
closed eyes and lit my skin, making it raw. Concentrating only on
my breathing, I braided the pain and magic into thicker and thicker
cords, until I lost myself in the braids with no sense of self or
pain.

Pulling in a ragged breath, my limbs started to
regain sensation. Everything seemed fairly normal, nothing broken
or severely bruised. My ears began to register sounds, although my
eyes refused to open yet.

“I assure you Mr. Morgan, Olivia will be just
fine; there is no need for medical attention,” Grams said
soothingly.

“I have a few questions I would like to ask
her,” said a voice I didn’t instantly recognize.

“Yes, Mr. Tate, I do realize her ability to
manipulate emotions leaves many questions,” Grams said
diplomatically. “However, as you can see, she isn’t in a position
to answer you at this moment.”

“Do you know how she did it?” Tate asked
softly.

“No, Mr. Tate, I do not. Olivia…” She paused,
unsure about how to proceed. “Olivia deals with people and
circumstances most of us never have to worry about; how she was
able to do what she did is not known to me.”

“Will you have her call us once she is up and
about?” Morgan asked clipped.

“Yes,” Grams assured, “I most certainly
will.”

I heard the door close and Grams letting out a
long-winded sigh.

Trying my eyes again, I found them more
cooperative. Letting out a groan, I rolled to my side, attempting
to sit up.

“One quiet day, Olie, is that too much to ask
for?” she said, still staring at the door.

“Yes,” I whispered hoarsely, “it always is.”

Blinking rapidly, my vision returned to me,
revealing Grant and Ali still sitting in their seats, looking a tad
pale. Stumbling into an upright position, I fell into the nearest
chair, rubbing my temples.

“Did it work?” I asked hoarsely.

“Yes” Grams said, returning to her seat across
the table. “He had no lingering effects of first blood.”

I let a sigh out. “Good.”

Lifting my head, I checked the time, 9 p.m.
Unlike most organizations, we started our day around noon and
finished around midnight four days a week of business hours. Today
was a Friday, what was supposed to be our day off, canceled due to
a high caseload and the meeting last night.

I had two hours before I had to be a Kitten,
enough time for dinner and a shower.

“Can I get a car to the house?” I said, standing
on wobbly legs. “I’ve gotta get ready to go to Kitten.”

Grams nodded absentmindedly as Ali picked up the
phone.