Dead Shifter Walking (4 page)

“Ten minutes,” Ali reported, not looking at
me.

I nodded, heading out and gaining stability as I
went.

Outside, it had rained heavily, leaving the
ground wet and the air fresh. I inhaled deeply as a black Explorer
pulled to the curb. Speedy service.

“Where to, ma’am?” The driver asked as I
situated myself in the back.

“To the manor,” I answered. I didn’t owe Tate
and Morgan an explanation as to why and how I was able to
manipulate emotions, but I knew Grams would ride my ass until I
answered their questions. If I were lucky, it would just be to
satisfy their curiosity. If I were unlucky, hell, I didn’t want to
think about that. The twinkling lights of the manor came into view,
pinpoints of light breaking through my dark thoughts, and I smiled
at the intrusion. It was peaceful, tranquil, and undisturbed by the
madness of the world outside.

“I’ll need a ride to Kitten in about an hour,” I
said to the driver.

“Very good, ma’am; I will wait here,” he
replied. I was about to leave when a thought struck me.

“Um, do you want something to eat?” I asked. No
one had ever waited on me, and while having a chauffeur was
kick-ass, I had no idea what was expected of me.

Oh crap, I didn’t even know his name. Fuck
it.

“Hey, just park and come in. Oh, and what’s your
name?”

Five minutes later, Jerry, the tall lanky
chocolate-skinned driver, and I were seated at the pine table
consuming whole-wheat pasta and salads.

“It’s nothing exciting,” I said to Jerry from
across the table in the empty kitchen.

He smiled pearly white teeth that contrasted
with his dark skin. He was older than me but had managed to keep
the carefree nature of his twenties intact.

“Ain’t no matta,” he pointed his fork at me.
“Although it is mighty odd you don’t eat meat,” he stated,
returning to his meal.

I shrugged. “Never appealed to me.”

“You ain’t never had fried chicken?” he asked,
leveling a fork knowingly at me.

I made a face. “Actually, I have; they make the
same out of tofu.”

He made his own pained face. “That just ain’t
right.”

I leaned back in my chair, my stomach full,
wanting nothing more than a soft bed for the night. I didn’t have
time for even a nap; hell, I didn’t even have a bed at the moment.
Pulling in my annoyance, I pushed away from the table.

“I need to get a few things before we leave,” I
said to Jerry.

He nodded, finishing his pasta. “I’ll meet you
outside.”

True to form, I was late; thankfully, I wasn’t
on first, which gave Gunther enough time for my makeup and hair for
the “Return of the Kitten” routine.

He smiled, admiring his handiwork. “Good to have
you back,” he said. I grinned behind the half cat mask, making my
way to the stage. Kitten was designed with a stage that could
dominate the center of the room but also could be broken apart and
moved as needed. It was currently in the middle of the room, and
for a surprise entrance, I climbed into the lighting system,
managing not to break an ankle in my high-heeled boots. I heard a
few soft whistles and “welcome home” from the techs as I made my
way above the center stage.

The announcer boomed loudly, “Ladies and
gentlemen, we have a very special surprise for you tonight. The
namesake of Kitten has returned home and…” The lights focused down
as I swung myself onto the stage with a soft thump. “Here she
is.”

The brilliant lights captured me along with the
gasps of surprise from the crowd. I smiled slowly, seductively
shaking my curled hair around my shoulders.

“Hello, dolls,” I whispered alluringly into the
earpiece, enjoying my sultry voice reverberating around the
floor.

Enthusiastic applause greeting those two words;
my smile widened. I couldn’t lie; it was fantastic to be loved,
even by these pleasure-seeking, overinflated moneybags.

My particular skill set, which Grams had alluded
to, was the simple fact that my dancing was a natural aphrodisiac,
so much so, that those attending had to sign disclaimers releasing
us from consequences of their actions after the show. Tonight was
no different; if anything, it was more powerful, given my extended
absence.

After a few refrains, the others joined me as
the stage began its slow circular motion, ensuring everyone got a
fair view while they enjoyed their gourmet dinner. I felt the
energy of my fellow dancers pulsing in my veins, mingling with my
own power sliding over my skin and amplifying every sensation. My
skin was tender where the leather halter-top didn’t cover and my
breathing felt labored from more than just the exertion of
dancing.

I lost myself in its touch, becoming one as I
unbraided the power, slowly losing conscious awareness of my limbs,
trusting they would still keep rhythm and dance.

Eventually, as the music stopped, I had to
abandon my blissful escape flowing through the music and crashed
back to reality, pulling in my braids of power; I was disappointed,
but the show must go on. Exiting with the rest of the dance crew
below the stage, we worked our way back to the dressing rooms,
changing makeup and costumes for the rest of the evening’s
dances.

I had minor parts in the rest of the dances;
didn’t mean I kicked out less power, just less noticeably. We
finished the sets, waived goodbye to the crowd, and retired to the
dressing rooms. Checking my phone, I found a text message from
Jerry, out back when ready.

I texted him back, give me 10, I smell.

He responded, good lawd take 20. I just got the
Beast detailed.

I laughed. He called the SUV "the Beast"? We
clearly had things to discuss.

Leaving at 3 a.m. with wet hair wasn’t the
brightest idea; I was tired and wanted to catch up on the sleep I
missed yesterday. Truthfully, I should have known that wasn’t
possible. There is no rest for the wicked. Exiting from the back of
Kitten, my hopes of a quiet evening died, seeing Mark leaning
against the beast, talking with Jerry. If I were lucky, he was just
picking up on my driver, which was beyond fine with me. Just
because I wasn’t getting any, didn’t mean they shouldn’t enjoy
themselves.

I had just about convinced my delusional self
that I was correct; Jerry threw his head back, laughing full force
at something Mark said, and Mark sported an equally playful smile.
I even gave myself a mental pat on the back when Jerry casually
touched Mark’s forearm and Mark leaned forward to hear him better.
I actually stopped dead in my tracks, wondering if I should leave
them alone a little longer.

As was customary in my life, this tender moment
of love and joviality was soon disrupted. Darren jumped out of a
limo that I didn’t notice behind the SUV and demand loudly, “Is she
out yet?”

What the fuck was he doing here? I groaned as my
limbs grew cold hardly containing my desire to stomp my feet on
Kitten’s concrete steps, seeing my dreams of a fluffy bed dying a
bloody death.

Mark pulled back from Jerry’s window, equally
annoyed and embarrassed; even Jerry looked a little red. Oh hell,
he might not be my favorite person, but I was fond of Jerry, and if
he could bring tight-ass Mark around to enlightenment, I was going
to help, not hinder.

“Over here, Blondie,” I yelled, just as annoyed
at him as I began moving again. “What part of closed for business
do you have trouble with?” I taunted. He was taller than Mark but
where Mark boasted the shoulders of a linebacker, Darren was lean
with bleached-blond hair matching his store-bought tan.

He stormed over in his custom-fit suit. “I have
been waiting all night for you.”

Crossing my arms over my chest, I shifted my
backpack, kicking a hip out. “Sorry, some of us have to work for a
living, spoiled ass.”

It was his turn to sport some frustrated red
now.

“I don’t have time for this,” he said, grabbing
my upper arm and pulling me behind him. That was a classic mistake.
I had his armed pinned painfully behind him before he moved more
than a step.

“No touching,” I whispered in his ear as I
pushed him forward and away from me, ready to lay steel down in
this ally.

“Shit, Darren, back off,” Mark warned, now fully
recovered from his earlier embarrassment. “She doesn’t know.”

“And what, pray tell, should I know?” I asked,
curious, but still annoyed.

“It’s his daughter,” Jerry answered, coming out
of the car, pointing at Darren, and shrugging. “She ain’t right,”
he finished as though that was enough of an explanation.

I uncrossed my arms shifting my backpack. “You
think?” I asked, not fully voicing the question if she was one of
ours.

Jerry shrugged. “I ain’t never met her, but from
what they be describing, can’t hurt to check it out.”

I sighed, instantly regretting my decision.
“Let’s go.”

Mark hung back, whispering with Darren before
following Jerry and me to the SUV. I gave Jerry a hard look as I
got into the back seat. He smiled wildly, motioning Mark to take
shotgun.

“I like Jerry; fuck this up and I’m not above
removing a few key body parts,” I warned, snuggling down in my
seat.

Jerry glared at me in the rearview mirror
“Really?” he mouthed.

“Geez, just kidding,” I said to relieve the
tension in the air. I suppose I should cut Mark some marginal sort
of slack; at least he was finally venturing to where his heart
led.

“Do you want to know what we have observed?”
Mark said as I put my ear buds in.

“Nope,” I answered, moving my hair from the wet
mark it had created on my black t-shirt, still regretting not
drying it.

He raised an eyebrow, so I explained, “I’m going
to enjoy my music while you and Jerry discuss whatever the hell you
want, or nothing. Not interested.” I hit play, shoving my ear buds
in.

Mark opened his mouth to say something, but I
saw Jerry’s mouth moving and Mark closed his own, turning around to
talk with him.

I closed my eyes, listening to Miranda Lambert,
my favorite female county artist. She was a woman after my own
heart, without the Executioner job title, but with an unstable life
and desire for revenge.

I sighed, letting my thoughts run wild. My
control was renewed after dancing and I had no worries of leaking
into their conversation. Darren’s daughter being a succubus was
wildly possible. I had never met his wife, but occasionally the
power of a succubus ran untapped, never exposed or weak enough, it
was never noticed, and those lucky souls blended into humankind,
never knowing they had a minefield of power. Blend untapped
succubus blood with the powerful shifter blood of Darren and it
wasn’t surprising at all that, at four years old, Hannah was
starting to display unmanageable traits. I could only imagine how
annoyed Darren must be, a genuine smile spreading across my face,
imagining his little angel’s outbursts.

I pulled my focus back to the SUV, watching
Jerry and Mark’s conversation change as Mark gave the final
direction, pulling into a long driveway that led to an equally
massive house. It was less Georgia mansion and more modern with
clean lines and chrome.

Pulling out my ear buds, I exited the SUV
without waiting for Jerry and Mark, pulling in a clean breath in
the predawn hours. It was quiet; I didn’t feel any kick, no
lingering emotions to denote an untrained child of our
bloodline.

Darren exited the house almost running towards
us. “Took you three long enough to get here. I’ve been
waiting.”

I gave Mark an annoyed look. “He’s scared,
Olivia,” he whispered.

I reigned in my annoyance, walking towards him.
“She awake?” I asked tucking away my mp3 player.

He flicked a glance toward Mark, running his
hands through his disheveled hair. I took a new look at Darren,
noticing the black bags under his eyes, which I had originally
assumed to be from excessive drinking and partying, the wrinkled
outfit, and the fear in his eyes. Mark was right. He was more than
scared; he was terrified. True to my form, I was only making things
worse not better; I didn’t want to kill anyone tonight.

“Darren,” I said softly, standing in front of
him, easing my tense shoulders and relaxing my stance, “take me to
her, please.”

He searched my eyes, noticing the change.
“Olivia, she is everything to me,” he pleaded, his eyes moist.

“I know,” I said with a small smile and a gentle
touch on his arm. “I will help her.”

He nodded, turning to lead us inside the house.
I turned to find Jerry still in the car. Oh, hell no. I shook my
head, indicating he needed to get his ass over here.

Jogging to catch up with Mark and me, he gave a
tentative smile. I ignored him.

If the outside was modern, the inside was
ultra-modern with a side of too sterile for normal. The quick first
impression was all I had time to notice as Darren was at the back
and up the stairs before I could take a second look. As I jogged
after him up the stairs, my calves and quads complained due to the
dancing earlier. I pushed on, starting to feel unsettled in the pit
of my stomach.

Darren paused outside an open doorway. I pushed
past him, sickened by the sight in front of me. Hannah was strapped
down to a small hospital bed, an IV in one arm, feeding tube, and
oxygen generating her breathing.

Slowly, I made my way to her side. The last time
I had seen her was two years ago, I guessed. She had been a normal,
happy little troublemaker.

“When did her mother pass?” I asked, pausing at
her side, my hands gripping the steel bed frame.

Without looking away from his dying daughter,
Darren answered, “Right after her third birthday.”

I nodded. “Is there a nurse on call right now?”
I asked gently.

He tore his attention from Hannah, releasing a
ragged breath as he answered, “Yes.”