Authors: Kassanna
a meaty fist. He lifted his head and gazed at each man. “With the extenuating circumstances, I think
now would be the time to sign off on everything. Jamison?”
Jamison yanked a chair up and set it down next to Percel’s. “Anybody got a pen?”
* * * *
next to her feet. Through the binoculars she spied her dad, Percel. Other than the dusting of white
amongst the red hair, he hadn’t changed much. Her momma apparently hadn’t stopped cooking since
her father’s girth had widened. She looked past her daddy. Loubel combed his fingers through his
blond strands, pushing a lock off his forehead. Colorful tattoos covered both his arms and spread
under his shirt. He always did act first and ask questions later. Loubel was a street fighter who didn’t
care how he won.
She focused on her target, Jamison. It was damn near a hundred degrees and that fool was wearing a
suit, minus the jacket that hung across the back of a chair. He definitely hadn’t changed. Well, he had,
she glanced at his head and wondered if he shaved his head because was going bald. Marree would’ve
had her head when they were younger for questioning anything about that damn Anaconda.
Kiele watched over Marree from the time her Aunt Loretta put her on the bus in Rattler, TX until
she arrived on Sint’s doorstep. Marree had been her best friend growing up and given what she knew
Cheryl could do to a person, she needed to make sure Marree made it to Betaille. Early on in the
Shadow Clan, she didn’t trust the bastards and checked periodically on her family. That’s when she
discovered Marree was pregnant and living with her Aunt Loretta. It was the only time she’d ever
asked her handler for a favor. She asked that they make arrangements for her best friend to be sent to
Betaille and sent a note to Loubel asking that he watch out for the non-shifter.
Marree was the only one who knew the identity of Darcel’s daddy. She knew the woman had never
revealed her secrets. There had to be a way to keep Jamison alive, it was the least she could do for
Marree.
Growing up, Marree was an oddity, being a shifter that couldn’t change forms. One day she was just
there, a reed thin, dirty little girl that walked across the railroad tracks in a torn dress and shoes with
holes in them. Aunt Loretta took her in and when no one came looking for Marree, she simply
continued to stay. Everyone assumed she was an abandoned snake shifter. As a child sometimes when
she got really mad her eyes would change or her skin would ripple but not once had she ever made the
transition into her beast.
Being kids, no one questioned how she just appeared. Marree was quiet with such a gentle spirit
about her. If anyone teased her about her handicap, they’d been right there to defend her. Jamison
could be especially brutal and he was always the one to throw the first punch. His attitude got them
many an ass whooping for fighting. She should have known back then those two were destined for
each other.
A flash caught her eye and she spun on the tree stump, looking for the source of the sparkle. Some
of the bushes on the adjacent bank rustled. Kiele narrowed her eyes and waited. She slipped the
glasses in her bag and stood. Whoever sat in the foliage wasn’t trained very well. A seasoned killer
would know how to watch people without being seen. She turned her head and lifted the binoculars to
watch Marree enter the community center. There was an unknown player in her game. Kiele rose from
her seat.
She pushed through the foliage to the forgotten dirt road she’d been using to get back and forth
from her base position. Kiele circled around to get downwind of the bastard watching her friends and
family. Her phone buzzed and she dug into her pocket to retrieve it.
“What?” Kiele slipped into a copse of trees.
“Why isn’t he dead?” Heinrich’s voice grated in her ear.
“Because I’m thorough. Dude, this is a bad time since I’m trying to do the job I was hired to do.
Reception is spotty, so if this call gets dropped I want you to know it wasn’t me.” She hung up and
stuffed the phone in her back pocket.
Kiele felt the ripple in the air as a bullet whizzed past her head. Son of a bitch was using a silencer.
She took off in a dead run, leaping over a felled tree, and started stripping. Behind a thick dogwood
she stuffed the clothes in her bag and jammed it under an exposed root. Within minutes she became
her boar.
She navigated the marsh, moving forward and doubling back in an effort to lead her shooter deeper
into the swamp. First she would take care of the intruder trying to muck up her plans, then she would
find a way to keep Jamison safe. After that, she’d need to take care of Heinrich. But hey, it was
doable. Actually, that was a short list for her.
Chapter Seven
Marree checked the coyote’s pulse. The thud against her fingers was strong, and at some point
through the long night he was able to shift into his human form. A very good sign. He’d recover from
the venomous bite Loubel inflicted. She grabbed the saline bag intravenously attached to his arm and
added seven cc’s of anti-venom to his drip just to be on the safe side. The way their bodies
metabolized drugs, the original dose had most likely already disappeared from the coyote’s system.
She tucked the blankets around his shoulders before moving into the next room. It would be another
tedious night of watching and waiting. The immediate danger was over and now it was just a simple
case of giving his body time to heal, which would be accelerated given a shifter’s regenerative
attributes. What could drop a human might knock out the numerous species which made up her
community, but it wouldn’t kill them.
She pulled the chair free of her desk and sat down to make notes in Rolo’s chart. A knock at her
door had her glancing back into the waiting area. Jamison stood at the door, his hand poised to rap on
the glass again. With a sigh, she rose. Yesterday she’d made it clear to both him and Loubel that she
didn’t want to see either man for a long time. She dropped her head. Talking to those two was like
speaking to a concrete block.
When she’d arrived at the community center, the men were sitting around a damaged table, buck-
assed naked, signing papers on their knees. A cat shifter was bellowing from his roost on a file cabinet
and the coyote was laid out in a corner, barely breathing. At that point she went into action and
administered the medication which would negate the poison coursing through the canine’s system.
The men continued with their political wrangling as if she wasn’t there. She had to coax the neurotic
Puma from his perch, which took a majority of her time. The poor thing kept changing forms as if he
couldn’t decide on what he wanted to be. By the time the sentry party that was supposedly the
committee’s protection arrived, Jamison was shaking hands with the Alphas of Betaille. And Jac, the
cat, was still threatening retribution from behind Evian’s broad shoulders.
Marree shook her head. Shifter politics were worse than the humans. Loubel immediately caught
sight of the mate’s mark as she directed the sentinels to place Rolo in her truck. Loubel’s tongue
licked the air, and she was too late to stop him as he leapt from his seat at Jamison. They shifted mid-
fall, landing in a heap. The Alpha’s surrounding them smirked as they watched the two men battle it
out. The Volkshire wolves started taking bets instead of moving the coyote’s body as she’d requested.
Her beast prowled across the forefront to her mind and for a moment she thought she could almost
feel her creature pushing for control. She shook her head and the urge was gone. Assholes were still
standing around. At a loss to do anything else, she marched out to her truck and snatched up her dart
gun. She filled the projectiles with a powerful sedative and loaded her weapon. When she stomped
back into the center the men had widened their circle and no one had bothered to stop the writhing
snakes from killing each other. The coyote shifter was being ignored altogether.
Marree lifted the rifle, took aim, and fired. The tranquilizer loaded bullet whizzed through the air
and lodged itself into the dense middle of Jamison’s body. Jamison shifted and looked down at the
feather tipped dart hanging from his belly. Quickly she cocked the gun again and shot the next round.
Loubel dropped from Jamison’s leg with a
thump
and reclaimed his human form, weaving as he
rose to his feet. “You shot me,” he accused, his features etched with disbelief as his eyes widened.
Jamison nodded in agreement.
“Damn right.” She’d swung the muzzle in a half circle and held the gaze of every shifter before
turning her eyes on Jamison and Loubel. “Seriously, you two will play nice or I swear I will put you
both down. And when you come to, remember to leave me the hell alone! Now, who else wants to
sleep for a couple days?”
Loubel and Jamison dropped to the floor.
Percel burst out in gut-shaking laughter. “Dammit girl, I didn’t think you had it in you.” He turned
to Eivan. “You heard Marree, get that old dog into her truck. Wait till I tell Sint about this.”
People rushed into a blur of movement following the gruff orders.
“Go to hell, Percel. I’m still mad at Sint.” She’d pressed her lips together to keep from smirking
and got out of there, leaving Jamison sound asleep.
The tapping resumed and Marree was jarred back to the present. She turned to meet Jamison’s gaze
through the glass. He cocked a brow. If she disappeared into the small surgical suite where Rolo was
resting she could ignore the man. She rubbed her neck and felt the scar tissue left from his bite.
Fucking snakes, arrogant asshole, she huffed as she stalked to the door. No doubt letting him into her
domain was a bad idea. However she knew if she didn’t he would stand there all night.
Marree stared at him with her hand on the lock. He pursed his lips and held up his other hand. When
she still hadn’t turned the deadbolt he shook the bag he clutched.
“Sint sent you something to eat,” he yelled through the glass.
“No thanks. I don’t want n’thing from you or Sint at the moment.” Marree pulled her hand away.
He narrowed his eyes. “Open the door, Marree, or I will bust the fucker in.”
“You’re not faster than a bullet, Jami, and I swear to the Goddess by the time I’m done, you will
wake up in somebody’s circus,” she screamed as she backed away.
“Woman!” He dropped the bag, took off his jacket and wrapped it around his hand.
Glass shattered. Shards rained down on the linoleum floor. Jamison pulled his hand back and dipped
under the metal bar to get into the waiting area. Marree spun on her heel and ran for her office. She
slammed the thin wooden door knowing it wouldn’t be much of a barrier for shifter like Jamison. She
jogged to the second filing cabinet and yanked out the pistol she kept in the top drawer. Marree
grabbed a handful of darts but they slipped through her trembling fingers. She dropped to her knees
and scrambled to retrieve one, but in her haste they skittered across the slick floor. She glanced up.
The molding framing the doorway was ripped from their anchors as the door, knob and lock still
connected slammed into the back wall.
Jamison lowered his leg and tilted his head to the side to stare at her. “You will never put a locked
door between us again, mate.”
She wrapped her fingers around a thin projectile and slid the top back to move the dart into the
chamber. With her arm straight, she rose form her position. “Get it through your thick head. We are
not mates. That train left the station years ago. Just leave. I’m sure the silent alarm has already alerted
Etienne and he or one of his deputies are probably on their way.”
“They can come.” Jamison shrugged.
She waved the gun. “You are such an idiot. Go already.”
“Shoot me because that is the only way you’re going to get rid of me.”
“Don’t damn tempt me!”
He huffed and backed up. His tone softened. “All I want to do is talk. You know better than I do
there is no reversal of a true claiming and this…” he circled his hand, “…has been a long time
coming.” Jamison grimaced. “I’ll even make nice with Loubel. If that is what it takes to make you
happy. We belong together.” He took a step toward her.
She shuffled back.
“Take a ride with me. Remember in college how much fun we use to have sneaking off?”
Marree snorted. “Yeah we took bottles of cheap wine and a blanket. We would watch the stars from
the bed of your truck parked in the desert. I do believe it was on one of those occasions that Karma
was conceived.”
“Want to try and recreate that?” He chuckled.