The Great Wolf Escape (Scandalous Shifters Book 1) Page 2

  Times had been different then, of course.

  He had not yet experienced the agony of the burning pits of the cruel, dark afterworld. It had never occurred to him that he might crave the cold again.

  How many years has it been since I have felt the ground at my feet?

  “Two hundred twenty earthly years,” the Commodore answered, and Ash stifled a groan. He had hoped he had been warded off, if only for a short time, but of course Ash couldn’t be so lucky.

  “Hey, man.”

  His attention was shifted by the sound of a voice external to his head and Ash looked up at the stranger approaching him. Instantly he sensed trouble with the shifty-eyed stranger.

  The young man appeared to be no more than twenty, a red bandana wrapped around his head, under a ballcap. He wore nothing more than a thin jacket over an even thinner tank top.

  He must be cold, Ash thought idly, but the boy looked anything but cold. He was jumpy as if he were trying to free himself from his own skin. Ash had seen similar behavior before, through his travels, but being confronted was fairly uncommon. There wasn’t much that screamed approachable about the handsome but huge being that was Ashur.

  Baby fuzz tickled the boy’s chin in an unsightly strawberry-colored burn.

  “Hello,” he replied cautiously, eyeing the unkempt being. He was not a shifter of any kind but Ashur had come to realize that even mortals could cause great harm those days.

  “You looking to buy?”

  The question puzzled Ash but he didn’t show his confusion. He had anticipated differences and had prepared himself for this new world. Still, he was confused by the question.

  A peddler? Where are his wares?

  He looked about for a cart or vehicle of any sort, but he saw nothing and as the man drew closer, Ash was overwhelmed by a sense of evil.

  He was no ordinary seller.

  It wouldn’t be the first time Ash had encountered trouble, not on earth nor in the otherworld, and while he was fully prepared to contend with whatever was on the boy’s mind, he would rather not see any conflict that day.

  Not when he was feeling less melancholy for once. He had hoped to cling to the closest thing to contentment he’d felt in eons.

  He heard the Commodore laughing in his head but the ruler didn’t speak. He seemed entertained simply to watch the scene unfold as if he knew exactly what was going to happen.

  “I am not searching for anything to purchase,” Ash replied, turning his attention back toward the polluted river, hoping that his body language would speak for itself.

  The young man was not happy with the simple refusal.

  “I got whatever you’re looking for,” he insisted. “Ox, Molly, weed…”

  He paused and studied Ash’s face with pale blue eyes, a stunning contrast to the caramel of his skin. He seemed impossibly put together and yet there he stood, boggling Ash’s mind somehow.

  How strange the mortals looked now, like mutants. Ash was both awed and perplexed by what he saw in them. They were oddly beautiful yet unlike any he knew in life. In truth, Ashur had spent less and less time acknowledging the newcomers into the dark realm, but if he thought about it, he might have realized that the genetics had taken on curious turns.

  If not for the almost palpable malice emanating from the depth of the boy’s soul, Ash would have mistaken his attractiveness as angelic.

  “Hey! I asked you a question!” the pusher snapped, his body almost touching Ash’s. He almost slammed his own fragile frame against the chain-linked fence like his legs could no longer hold the weight of his body. “What you want?”

  “I do not require anything for purchase,” Ash sighed again, turning away and annoyed that his fleeting peace had been ruined.

  To his surprise, the man reached out to grab him, fist entwining through his soaked leather jacket. Ash almost laughed, wondering if the boy truly thought himself a match for a brawl. It was then that Ash felt the cold steel of a gun barrel against his ribs and he knew the day would not be redeemed.

  Everything is fleeting, he thought with some mournfulness. I cannot enjoy one hour of peace.

  “But I bet you got money on you, dontcha?” the boy rasped. “Gimme what you got, and I won’t kill you.”

  Ash swallowed one more groan of irritation.

  You fool. Why are you being so insistent? he wondered furiously. Can you not see you are no match for me whatsoever?

  Even without his shifting abilities, Ashur towered over the boy. It was clear to see that the kid had far too much faith in his weapon.

  “You do not wish to do this,” he explained, checking his temper as he eyed the mugger. He wanted to give the boy a chance to walk away, unscathed. Violence was not in his true nature, after all, despite what he had done to survive in the dark realm.

  “Shut up, Bambi, and give me what you got,” he snarled, digging the barrel of the gun deeper into Ash’s back.

  The wolf did not argue, reaching into the depths of his pocket to retrieve his wallet.

  They are ill-gotten gains anyway, he thought without regret, handing it over to him. He didn’t claim to understand the currency which the Commodore had given him and he had no issue handing the paper bills to the mugger.

  “That all you got?” the kid demanded. “What about a watch? You got a watch? Hurry the dark afterlife up!”

  The young drug dealer seemed to be growing more agitated by the minute, but Ash was in no major rush. It wasn’t as if the man could kill him, no matter how hard he tried.

  Not even if that gun is laden with silver bullets.

  Another car drove past, and Ash turned to look as the driver peered curiously out the window.

  To his shock, the assailant turned and pointed the firearm toward the woman, who gaped in horror.

  Ash watched as her face turned opaque with fear and the car seemed to slow as she froze in shock.

  “What are you looking at, bitch?” the boy screamed, waving the gun wildly. “Get the hell out of here before I blow your brains out!”

  “There is no need to threaten her,” Ash sighed conversationally. “Your quarrel is with me, although I cannot say why. I have given you all I have. You may be on your way now.”

  “Shut the hell up, you punk-ass weirdo!” he screeched, but to Ash’s relief, he turned his attention back toward the wolf, seeming to forget about the driver for a moment. “I’ll leave when I’m good and ready.”

  He inhaled shakily as if he was trying to figure out what to do next.

  “Where’s your watch, freak?” he demanded, and Ash shrugged.

  “I have no use for time,” he replied honestly. “I do not carry a timing device.”

  “You have use for time!” the Commodore laughed in his head. “You are wasting time right now, indulging this fool instead of ending this charade. If I did not know better, Ashur, I would say you have no desire to ever leave the world in which you have been cast. I think you rather prefer being dead.”

  Ash cringed, wishing the Commodore would keep his commentary to himself.

  “You have everything you need,” Ash told the boy quietly, trying his best to ignore the Commodore’s voice. “Go now.”

  A cold fury washed over the younger being’s face.

  “You telling me what to do, prick?” he asked, cocking the pistol and raising it in a way he could have only seen in some terrible gangster flick. “Nobody tells me what to do.”

  “You do not want to do this,” Ash told him evenly. “Go now.”

  The boy aimed the weapon and fired once, his face contorted in rage. He tried again, panic registering on his face as he realized his mistake. Nothing happened and Ash shook his dark curls, sighing aloud.

  “You see? This is an exercise in futility,” he told the boy. “Off you go now.”

  To his surprise, the boy tried a third time. Still, nothing happened.

  “What the f… what did you do?” he growled, a terrified understanding filling his eyes. His anger seemed to be
mounting and he stepped toward Ash, the butt raised.

  “If you do this,” Ash told him with a sigh, “you will regret—”

  The cold steel smashed into his face and Ash collapsed onto the muddy grass as his assaulter turned to flee.

  Through bleary eyes, Ash watched him run off, glancing over his shoulder as if he expected to be followed, but Ash didn’t rise even though the urge to shift was overwhelming him.

  He didn’t need to chase his attacker. The boy was no longer a threat to him or the woman in the car and his own anger was already dissipating.

  “Are you going to let him get away?” the Commodore asked, his voice wrought with shock. “Stop him!”

  “We had a deal,” Ash replied evenly. “I cannot use my abilities.”

  “The deal pertains to—” the Commodore began to say, but Ash stopped him midsentence. He knew the rules and he didn’t need correction. He just wanted to be on his way too and forget about the messiness of the day.

  “I do not wish to pursue it,” Ash interrupted flatly, falling back onto the grass and touching his hands to his face.

  There was a lot of blood and he lay flat, waiting for the throbbing to subside, but in a strange way, Ash was enjoying the pain. He had been so numb for so long. The agony throbbing through his nose made him feel, well, alive.

  It would all be gone in a matter of seconds, after all. He could already feel his body healing as he remained on the ground. In a way, he was surprised he had landed on the ground at all.

  I must be weaker than I think.

  “Get up!” the Commodore growled. “Go stop him. What sort of wolf allows a man to get away with such a thing?”

  Ashur almost waved his hand but he shook his head instead.

  “No.”

  In his ear, the Commodore grunted.

  “Your stubbornness is the reason you are in this position in the first place,” the dark ruler reminded him.

  “These are your conditions,” Ash answered, wishing the Commodore would stop talking.

  “You jammed the weapon,” the Commodore replied. “What is the difference if you hunt him down and kill him? You already used your powers for one thing.”

  “Protecting my life and exacting revenge are two very different concepts. Anyway, I did not jam the gun.”

  It was a lie, of course, but he did not want to further argue semantics with the king of dispute.

  “Uh huh,” the Commodore replied skeptically.

  “Commodore, please go away,” Ash groaned. “Please! You are cheating by being in my ear.”

  “I am not!” the Commodore denied. “I am completely within my rights—”

  “You should not be here,” Ash interjected, knowing that arguing with the Commodore was like arguing with the wind.

  “I will win any which way I must,” the Commodore retorted, sounding sullen at being called on his own antics.

  “Ah,” Ash laughed. “So, you admit you must cheat to win to me. That does not speak well to your prowess, Com.”

  A long silence filled his mind and Ash knew he had incensed the ruler of darkness, but he made no apologies.

  The result would be well worth it.

  “One day you will go too far, Ashur, and it will not bode well for you,” the Commodore finally said. “You take advantage of my good nature, but one day you may find yourself on the wrong end of my bad nature.” He said his piece, then he was gone, and Ash was surprised there was not more drama attached to his departure.

  His good nature. If he were not so dangerous, he would be quite witty.

  Ash shook his head as if trying to make sense of his own thoughts.

  How long have I bought myself before he returns? A day? Two days? More likely an hour.

  However long it was, Ash hoped it was enough time for him to secure his future.

  “Are you hurt? Oh my God! You’re hurt! I called the police.”

  He opened his eyes and stared at the woman who had passed by in the car moments earlier.

  “Oh, no,” he muttered, struggling to sit up. “I am unharmed.”

  “Thank God!” she screeched. “I thought you were dead! Shot in the face by that lunatic. I’m sorry I didn’t stop. I was so scared, but don’t worry, baby, the police are coming!”

  She knelt at his side, but Ash waved her off.

  “Thank you, but I am fine,” he assured her, eyeing her carefully. “I am not shot.”

  She is wed and possibly out of my age group, he thought, glancing at her ring finger and all-white cap of hair. Still, he considered it. The Commodore was right; the clock was ticking after all. If he wanted to win the wager, he was going to need to work much, much faster.

  “Come and sit in my car, baby,” the kindly woman urged, trying to move him, but Ash rose easily to his feet. He wanted her to see that he was not in need of any help.

  “I am fine,” he insisted. “I should be on my way—”

  The sirens approached, and Ash groaned in exasperation.

  He had no time for such trivialities.

  “Oh good! The cops will take good care of you, baby,” she cooed, pressing a coffee-black hand against his face. “And don’t you worry none. I got a good picture of him on my camera phone. I bet he’ll be arrested in no time.”

  Ash offered her a weak smile as the policemen scurried toward the scene, barking questions about the gunman in rapid fire succession.

  Slowly, Ash lumbered to his feet.

  He had been back on earth for three weeks.

  I only have one more week to win the bet with the Commodore. It is not enough time.

  “What’s your name, sir?” the first uniformed officer asked, looking over his face with scrutiny.

  “John Smith,” Ash replied flatly, remembering his character. Not that he had introduced himself to too many beings, but when he did, he recalled that he was to use the name “John Smith”.

  All he wanted was to be on his way and he waited impatiently for them to finish asking their questions.

  If I don’t find a woman to fall in love with me by then, I will never get another chance to leave the dark afterlife.

  “Mr. Smith, huh?” the cop crinkled his nose in disbelief. “Do you have any ID?”

  “I am afraid the ruffian took it,” Ash answered evenly.

  And if I do not find such a woman and win my opportunity to stay on earth, I can never set matters right.

  Ash knew he would never again return to the good afterlife, not with what he had been forced to do to survive, but there was not a day that went by that he did not think of his brother who betrayed him in the worst way a brother could.

  First, I will win the wager with the Commodore. Then I will avenge my exile.

  He wondered if he was lying to himself about the last part. After all, what did Ashur really know about revenge?

  “Okay, John Smith. I’ll take your statement at the hospital.”

  The policeman signaled for a paramedic to take him and Ash bit on the insides of his cheeks. He knew that fighting law enforcement would only suffer him worse consequences in the long run. They were no match for him, even in hordes, but if there was even one shifter in the lot, it would not be a matter of a simple escape.

  He shook his head. Resisting would only waste time.

  Today I deal with this robbery. Tomorrow I focus on my purpose for being here.

  “Let’s go, John Smith,” the cop muttered and as he was led toward the ambulance, Ash heard the officer comment to his partner.

  His partner snorted.

  “Yeah, I bet. He was probably buying,” the other beat cop muttered in a low enough voice that a normal person would not hear.

  But Ashur was not a normal person.

  I am not even a normal shifter.

  “Let’s find a way to run this guy’s prints too. Something tells me he’s got a rap sheet. John Smith, my ass.”

  They both agreed, and Ash smiled serenely.

  He had nothing to worry about; he didn’t have
fingerprints at all anymore.

  Chapter Two

  A Step Down

  Staring out the window of the office, Serafina was reminded of her last work environment in New York City during the days of the Duvall trial. Somehow, everything reminded her of the days she’d worked for Chatham, Crowe and Fiend, under the watchful eye of Samuel Crowe.

  Once upon a time, it had a been a dream job, but as Ryker Duvall’s scandal had unfolded upon the firm, Sera had been eager to get out of the city and as far away from that mess as possible. In her mind, Ryker Duvall had put unnecessary scrutiny not only on the company, but on shifters too. The last thing the paralegal had needed was extra eyes watching her.

  As she continued to study the stormy morning, Sera wondered which was more depressing: the sodden mess on Grand River Avenue or the overcrowded, undusted, dark hellhole in which she worked.

  It seemed to her that it didn’t matter which direction she looked—they all made her want to vomit.

  God, I hate this city. I hate this job. I hate my life, Sera thought miserably as she reluctantly turned back toward the too bright workspace, the fluorescent lighting causing her head to pound. It defied reason in this day and age that such lighting should still exist.

  This is definitely not my safe space, she thought bitterly, wondering for the umpteenth time if she should pack it up and move again.

  Every day she asked herself why she had stayed in Michigan, where the winters were deadly and the summers smelled like pork rinds.

  I belong somewhere warm and friendly, not in a city where I drive through an entire neighborhood of burned-down houses to get to work on a bus which reeks of cat spray.

  “Sera! What are you doing?” Jacob appeared at the doorway and she started although she didn’t know why; he was notorious for his unexpected appearances. He wasn’t a shifter but he should have been with his stealthy arrivals.

  “Trying to find my will to live,” she muttered, but the senior—and only—partner of the firm stalked inside, his pudgy body popping out of his tweed suit. It seemed impossible to Sera that the buttons had not exploded at his chest and into her morning coffee by now.

  Do they even make tweed anymore? she wondered dully, but it was just another question that she asked every single day. Jacob wore the damned outfit at least three times a week while the other two were reserved for a dress pant and Hawaiian shirt ensemble. Both outfit choices made Sera cringe.