Authors: Neely Powell
Tags: #Paranormal, #Contemporary, #Suspense, #Vampires and Shapeshifters
“Speaking of which,” I said. “What happened to Killin’s son? The last I saw of him, he was passed out cold and tied up.”
“We left him for the chimera to rescue,” Evan explained. “I expect he was back in his grandmother’s loving arms soon after we cleared out of the warehouse.”
I looked back at Hunter. “You’ll probably fight him one day, won’t you?”
“If the bloody little bastard comes after me and what’s mine, I will kill him.”
I looked from Evan to Hunter, stunned by their blind acceptance of these uncivilized traditions. I made choices about life, between right and wrong, good and evil. Now the lines were blurry. It was the same reason I had hated chasing cheating wives and husbands and dealing with broken families and helping insurance companies decide not to pay disability claims. I liked clean cuts and reasonable explanations. None of that was very likely if I fell in step with Hunter as he was now. Hell, I didn’t even know the rules of the supernatural world, and he was proposing we plunge into it headfirst.
Evan spoke up again. “What is it you want, Zoe?”
“I don’t know that I can just go along with all this.”
“What about the vision of my grandfather telling you to be my first defense?” Hunter said.
“The connection you established with Hunter last night,” Evan added. “You found him.”
“You saw through my eyes,” Hunter said. “I could feel that. I knew you were coming.”
I made a sound of frustration. “It didn’t feel like I did much more than watch you be tortured by that horrible little boy.”
“Do you think what I do just came to me one day?” Evan’s normally even voice held an edge of anger. “I had to learn everything I could from centuries of my family’s history. Nobody feels called to a destiny like this and immediately knows how to fulfill it. You’ve got to work at it, Zoe. I told you I would help you. We’ll get you more help.”
I wanted to be out there in front of Hunter, looking better than Wonder Woman in my cape, tights, and sexy super-hero outfit, telling him how to avoid the big bad Lion of Wall Street. A big, bad lion that wanted Hunter’s blood in his throat. More than anything, I didn’t want to feel useless and frightened. I had felt that way years ago, when my mother was killed and my father wouldn’t talk about it. I knew I had been searching for control ever since that awful day. I wanted the safe, the predictable.
So what was I doing with a shapeshifter?
Hunter took my hand in his. “You left me last night. It was awful. I couldn’t figure out what I’d done wrong, why you’d run away. What happened?”
I stood, unable to contain my anger any longer. “What happened? What happened? You killed a man and laid him at my feet, but you were prancing around and licking your paws like a fucking house cat that just killed a mouse!”
Hunter was quiet, his expression wounded.
I tried to explain. “You weren’t my Hunter. You were a killer, someone I’d never met.”
Hunter’s pain at my comment was obvious. His mouth opened but he couldn’t find the words. He walked to the window, his head bowed.
Evan stood now, drawing my attention. “This is who he is.” His gaze was level and darkly serious. “Make your choice. Don’t drag it out so he suffers. If you can’t handle it, just say so now.”
My resentment toward this man bubbled over. “Who are you to be telling me what I have to do?”
“This is part of me, too,” he replied with that damned certainty that made me want to claw at him.
“But—” I sputtered.
“There’s no buts, no what ifs, and only one choice—yes or no,” Evan said.
I whirled toward Hunter, but he still had his back to me, his hands on his hips.
What did he expect me to do? For Hunter, decisions are impulsive and immediate. If he bought a new car, he went to the car lot, haggled a little, and drove it home within a few hours. When I bought a new car, I did Internet research, checked all the facts and figures, and went to at least three dealers before making a decision.
What more could I speculate about? The facts were right in front of me. Hunter was a shapeshifter, a man with two distinct bodies. But he had one heart and what I knew to be a good soul. He was my family in every way that counted.
Buck up, Zoe, you’re a strong woman and you can do this.
I walked to Hunter. “Last night shook me to my core,” I said to his back. “I’ve never seen anything like that.” He turned to face me, and I put my hands on his cheeks. “Much as I hate to admit it, Evan is right. I know who you are and I know what you have to do.”
He leaned forward until his forehead touched mine. “You know I couldn’t make it without you,” he whispered fiercely. “Thank you for not making me choose.”
“So you’re in?” Evan asked.
Still not sure why I needed to answer to him, I glared his way, then turned back to Hunter. “I’m in. But I can’t promise that I’m going to like everything about you being The MacRae.”
“Understood.”
“I’m not living in that factory building with the two of you.”
A look passed between the men that I didn’t care for at all. A smug, male, we’ll-handle-her-later look. Suddenly I wished Darla were here to stir a little more estrogen into this mix.
“I even have a name for our new firm,” Hunter said. “We’ll call it ‘Seekers’.”
“Because we find answers,” I murmured.
“Among other things,” Hunter said.
We talked for hours, poring over the blueprints and discussing options for the new business. I still wasn’t happy about Evan being a full partner, but this was apparently a long, family tradition. How could my fourteen years with Hunter stack up against centuries?
Evan wasn’t going anywhere.
Neither was I.
So here we were—a shapeshifter, a dysfunctional psychic, and a man descended from an ancient line of warriors. What could possibly go wrong?
A word about the author...
Neely Powell is the pseudonym for co-writers and friends Leigh Neely and Jan Hamilton Powell.
Writing as Celeste Hamilton, Jan published 24 romance novels before leaving fiction for corporate communications. Leigh became a successful nonfiction writer and editor, though she was still interested in fiction.
Something clicked when Leigh focused her talents on the paranormal. Her short story “A Vampire in Brooklyn” was published in the anthology,
Murder New York Style: Fresh Slices
, in 2011.
Around that time, the friends started a novel together. The result was
True Nature
, and Neely Powell is contracted for several more novels about shifters, witches, weres, faeries and ghosts, mixing in shades of romance, mystery and thrillers.
Find Neely Powell online at:
http://www.neelypowell.com
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