Authors: Tamelia Tumlin
Nightshifters
Copyright © 2012 by Tamelia Tumlin
No part
of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means,
electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any
information storage and retrieval system – except in the case of brief
quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews – without the written
permission of publisher or author, except where permitted by law.
For
Better or Worse
: First
Black Rose Edition (The Wild Rose Press) – 2008
Blind
Love
: First Black
Rose Edition (The Wild Rose Press) – 2008
Seducing
the Night
: First
Black Rose Edition (The Wild Rose Press) – 2009
Steel
Magnolia Press Collected Edition - 2012
Cover
art design by SM Reine.
OR WORSE
Kate Wentworth forced her legs to keep moving across the
driveway even though every fiber of her being violently protested against it.
Gravel crunched like brittle bones beneath her tennis shoes. A sound she
likened to fingernails scraping across a chalkboard.
An involuntary shiver slid along Kate’s spine as the
two-story plantation home loomed ahead. Her steps faltered when she reached the
porch.
It’s just a house. I’ve been here a million times, Kate
reassured herself. Still, fear held her feet hostage and made it nearly
impossible to move. Kate took a long steadying breath before she stepped onto
the bottom stair. The wood moaned beneath the shift in weight.
Cringing inwardly with each mournful creak, Kate squeezed
the wooden handrail.
“Ouch!” She yanked her hand up and stared at the offending
splinter. “Damn!”
Biting back a cry, she brushed away the tears; tears that
had nothing to do with a painful splinter and everything to do with her
breaking heart.
I can’t do this. I just can’t. No matter how much I love
him.
Every sinister shadow, silhouetted against the white frame
house sent a new wave of panic racing through her veins. Even the subtle wisp
of branches scraping along the top of the high-vaulted roof prompted her mind’s
eye to conjure new horrors. Each one more terrifying than the last.
Bitterness clenched steel bands around her heart and fear
nearly choked her. Kate leaned over the railing and struggled to breathe. Hot,
humid air seeped into her lungs. Her chest tightened and she forced herself to
take slow, deep breaths. Passing out from lack of oxygen was not an option.
Why does Louisiana have to be so muggy?
Sweat beaded
her brow and she wiped it away with her bare arm. The pale pink tank top she
wore clung to her flat stomach like a second skin.
As the panic attack subsided, she straightened her body and
tried to control her racing thoughts.
He won’t hurt me. He won’t. Not my beloved Colten.
A movement, caught her eye.
Colten!
He stood in the bay window of his bedroom, staring morosely
at the unforgiving moon. His slumped shoulders portrayed the demeanor of a
beaten man.
Her heart melted at the misery she envisioned on his
handsome face. As hard as this was for her, it had to be ten-fold for him.
Immediately, Kate’s protective instincts kicked in. This was
Colten.
Her
Colten. Not some monster.
He looked away from the moon and his gaze seemed to rest
upon her.
Icy fear reared its ugly head once again, sending prickles
of awareness across her skin.
Oh, God! Does he see me?
Her senses immediately escalated from the
I hope he
doesn’t break my heart
caution mode they’d lingered in for the past year to
full-on
run like the hounds of hell are on nipping at my heels
panic
mode.
But she couldn’t run. Colten needed her.
With a deep, fortifying breath, she climbed the small flight
of stairs and remembered the way he had brought her chicken soup when she had
been bedridden with the flu last winter. And not just the canned stuff either,
but homemade soup, with fresh vegetables and steaming hot rice. Not to mention
that without Colten’s strength and consolation after her father’s death two
months ago, she might have slid into the darkness of depression permanently. He
had been her rock. Now, it was time for her to be his.
Kate reached the front door and, hand balled into a tight
fist, she banged on the oak. This is the man who had taught her how to love
unconditionally. And now she would return the favor. She would not let him go
through this alone. Not anymore.
She waited.
Nothing.
She banged once more, harder this time. The sound seemed to
echo through the Louisiana night, going deep into the bayou behind the house
then bouncing eerily back at her. Somewhere in the distance creatures of the
night echoed their own sorrowful tune, a haunting song that sent a new wave of
panic through her. She had never been a fan of the mysteries of the bayou. Or
the horrors that lurked within.
Kate shot a nervous look over her shoulder, half-expecting
to see some terrifying entity emerge from the black, swampy waters. Her knees
trembled as she waited.
Still, he did not come.
She fished the key out of her jean pocket and, after three
attempts, managed to fit it into the keyhole. It finally clicked, and she
turned the knob.
She rubbed her arms with the palms of her hands and closed
her eyes a moment.
I can do this. I can
.
With as much determination as she could muster, Kate pushed
the door open knowing she was about to witness the most horrifying event of her
life. And she was powerless to stop it.
Colten James flicked open the chamber of his father’s
revolver then spun the cylinder containing the lone silver bullet.
One shot.
One bullet.
That’s all it would take.
Through the white sheer curtains that covered the bedroom
window, the moon hovered just below the tops of the live oaks lining his drive.
Damn moon!
He hated the way it mocked him every month. Taunted him,
mercilessly, with each painful ascent. He hated the moon. And he hated what he
was.
Suddenly, his nostrils flared. Primal urges alerted the
bloodlust within him, predatory desires that he had no wish to ever fulfill.
Kate! She’s here.
He scented her. And not just the familiar citrus shampoo she
used to wash her long blonde hair. But her. The woman. The human essence.
“You shouldn’t be here, Kate.” The words sounded rough,
coarse, and thick with emotion. He stood stiff, his back to her, not daring to
turn around.
“Colten, I…”
“You shouldn’t be here, Kate!” he choked out.
White-knuckled, he gripped the revolver in his hand.
Oh, God! Why is she
here?
He had always been so careful. Always planning an excuse to be apart
during each full moon. It had always worked.
Until now…
He heard her movement across the room towards him. Soft,
feather-like brushes across the hardwood floor. His grip tightened on the
revolver cramping his already stiff fingers. Out of the corner of his eye, he
caught a glimpse of the moon slowly inching its way above the trees,
illuminating the room with a bright, soft hue.
Bile rose in his throat; he gagged and swallowed rapidly to
keep from retching. God, it was so close. His stomach burned like the fires of
hell.
“Go away, Kate! Now! I don’t want you here.”
The whisper of her soft-soled shoes hesitated on the
hardwood floor. “Colten, let me help you.”
“You can’t help me. No one can.” The words were flat, but
his shoulders shook as he spoke.
“Tell me what I can do.” Her voice trembled, but he heard
the determination in her words.
He spun away from the window to face her. “Nothing! Don’t
you understand? I don’t want you here!”
Her back stiffened and she lifted her chin a notch. The
familiar stubborn gleam in her eyes told him all he needed to know.
She wasn’t going to leave. Instead, she would witness his
darkest secret.
The first tingle touched his nerves, burning through his
veins like the poison it was. It started in his hands then exploded into a
white-hot wildfire consuming his body.
He shook his arms in sharp, jerky movements wishing he could
rid them of the tainted blood. “Why did you come here tonight? I told you that
I would be out of town.”
“But you’re not.” She said, twisting a long blonde curl
between her fingers. A nervous habit he had become used to over the past year.
She stood several few feet away but, with the heightening of
his senses, he heard the rapid beat of her heart and sensed her unease through
its wild staccato.
Colten sniffed the air in two quick fluid movements drawing
in the sharp scent of adrenaline mingled with perspiration.
He knew that scent well.
Fear.
“How did you find out?”
“I found this when I was straightening up last week.” She
reached into her pocket and pulled out a yellowed, torn piece of paper. She
held it out to him with trembling fingers.
He reached for the paper then dropped it as if it had
scorched his fingers. A low guttural moan escaped him.
He didn’t have to read it to know what it said. The words
his father had written to him on his twelfth birthday were forever branded in
his mind.
You’re a man now, Colten. The curse will come with the
first full moon of each month. You will become a predator of the night. You
cannot change it. You cannot hide from it. But if it becomes too much to bear,
then use the silver bullet. It’s the only way to stop it.
