Authors: Cyndi Friberg
That’s enough, hellion. You don’t want me to pass out on
top of you.
She groaned but gradually released her hold on his flesh and
withdrew her fangs.
He kissed her blood-smeared lips then pushed back so he
could move again. She stared up at him, eyes wide and dazed.
You still with me?
Always.
A surprising rush of tenderness accompanied
the word. She raised her arms above her head and drew her legs up along his
sides, her surrender unmistakable.
His heart contracted and he couldn’t suppress a smile as he
pumped with long, steady strokes. She was perfect, giving and warm, yet brave
and fierce all at the same time.
He didn’t care that she tasted like blood. He had to kiss
her. Grasping her upper arms, he pulled her up and claimed her mouth. Her
tongue surged past his lips, ready to tangle, ready to play.
Despite his leisurely pace, his balls drew up tight,
threatening to fire. He clasped her to his chest and she wrapped her legs
around his waist, stubbornly fighting off the climax.
“You were amazing,” he whispered against her mouth.
“You’re still amazing,” she countered, nipping his bottom
lip.
“I’m not going to last much longer. Lie back and I’ll help
you catch up.”
She laughed and squeezed him tight with her inner muscles.
“I’m not lagging behind, I assure you. Three fast thrusts and I’ll come.”
“Promise?”
“Try me.”
He grasped her hips and moved fast and deep between her
thighs. It took six thrusts, but they went over the edge together, clinging to
each other as the pleasure took their breath away.
Reality returned to Quinn, but Carissa was still shaking. He
brushed the hair back from her face and she slowly opened her eyes. Therian
light blazed from between her spiky lashes. She panted, neck arching, mouth
open wide.
He quickly separated their bodies and zipped up his pants.
Then he scooped her up in his arms and gingerly set her on the floor. The first
shift was always the hardest and she’d just ingested blood from six different
men. There was no telling what her transformation would entail.
“I know you’re frightened, sweetheart, but don’t fight it.
Just let it come.” His heart was beating so hard he was sure it would bruise
the inside of his rib cage.
Let her be all right. Please, God, let her
survive this.
She rolled to her side and drew her legs up toward her
chest. “It hurts,” she whispered, and then released a shrill scream.
Verbal communication would likely distract her, but he could
not let her think he’d abandoned her. He slipped into her mind and radiated
affection and calm, hoping some flash of reassurance would penetrate her fear.
The distinct snap of bones reshaping made Quinn’s stomach
heave. He’d gone through this countless times himself, but this was worse. He
closed his eyes, unable to bear her obvious agony. Still, her screams went on
and on.
He hadn’t heard footsteps on the stairs, but suddenly Ian
was pulling him to his feet. “Give her some room. We don’t know where this is
leading. She could shift into anything.”
Erin was there too, her tear-bright gaze fixed on Carissa.
Therian light burst from Carissa’s body, momentarily
blinding Quinn. Her form grew, shredding her dress as her shape became more and
more feline. Her final scream transitioned with her, ending in an unmistakable
roar. The undulations were smoother now, subtler as if her body had learned the
rhythm. A sleek black coat spread across her skin, signaling the end to her
first transformation.
Hope hovered just out of reach as Quinn waited for her shift
to stabilize. She huddled on the floor, visibly shaking, legs tucked under her
feline body.
“Jaguar.” Erin looked at him and smiled. “Did you have any
doubt?”
“But her undercoat has stripes not spots,” Ian pointed out.
“A black tiger?” Erin cautiously approached and Carissa
opened her bright-blue eyes. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard of a black tiger
shifter. Even in the journals, I don’t remember one being listed.”
Quinn smiled and knelt beside Carissa. “She’s one of a kind.
Why do you sound surprised?” He held out his hand and let her sniff it before
he gently stroked her head. “You’re incredible, hellion. You’re going to
outshine us all.” She rubbed her head against his hand and began to purr.
* * * * *
“So what happens now?” It had taken several hours for
Carissa to reverse the shift. She emerged exhausted and hungry. And naked! Erin
had casually handed her a blanket to cover up with, but Carissa had no idea
where she’d gotten it. Landon had said something about Therians being used to
nudity. Judging by their lack of reaction to her predicament, Carissa was
inclined to believe.
Her legs were so shaky she barely made it back to Erin’s
house. Quinn brought her a bathrobe then she devoured one sandwich as Erin
hastily made another. Quinn sat beside her at the kitchen table. He kept
touching her, rubbing her back and squeezing her knee. Did he think she was
going to disappear or something? Ian sat across from her, silently staring.
Carissa gulped down half a glass of milk then grumbled, “You
two are acting like you’ve never witnessed a female’s first shift.”
“You shifted into a black tiger.” Erin set the second
sandwich down in front of Carissa then slipped onto the chair beside Ian.
“That’s truly remarkable.”
“Why?” She picked up the second sandwich and started
munching.
“Your first shift accomplished something no one else has
done. You took elements from two of your guides and created something entirely
new. Quinn has the recessive gene that creates black cats, but he’s a jaguar
not a tiger.”
“So, I combined Quinn’s recessive gene with Jake’s tiger?”
“You created a shift never seen before,” Ian told her.
“There are no Therian black tigers?”
“You’re the only one.” Quinn grinned, his arm resting on the
back of her chair.
“If I can mix and match characteristics…”
“You can transform into almost anything,” Erin confirmed.
Her shift had been basically spontaneous, triggered by a
powerful orgasm. It was certainly a pleasant catalyst, but a tad impractical.
It still seemed unbelievable that one day she would intentionally transition
from one form into another.
Halfway through the second sandwich, Carissa’s head started
pounding and her eyes refused to stay open. “Just like a baby.” She smiled.
“Fill my stomach and I fall asleep.”
“You expended a massive amount of energy. Anyone would be
exhausted.” Quinn moved his hand from the chair to the back of her neck and
began to rub.
“That feels wonderful, but keep it up and you’ll have to
carry me to our room.” He reluctantly stopped, and she started to push back
from the table then her gaze flew to Ian. “You said I’d be able to sense Ava as
soon as I was defined. How do I…flip the switch?”
He shook his head. “You need to rest. Ava looked content in
her hiding place. She can wait a few more hours.”
“The primary reason I did this was so I can help find her.”
“We understand that,” Erin said. “We want to find her as
much as you do, but that doesn’t change reality. If you try to track her now,
you’ll just be frustrated. Your energy stores need time to recharge.”
She felt like a firmly wrung dishrag, so she begrudgingly
relented. Quinn followed her into their bedroom and tucked her into bed. “It
happened to me. I was there. So why doesn’t it seem real?”
He leaned down and kissed her forehead, dark gaze caressing
her face. “It will take time to adjust, but you’re well on your way.”
She nodded, appreciating the reassurance, even if her mind
was still resisting her new reality. She was a shapeshifter. A few hours ago
she’d been a black tiger!
With a heavy sigh, she rolled onto her side and tucked her
hand under her cheek. It was dark again, but she had no idea if it was 8:30
p.m. or 3:00 a.m. The events she’d just lived through were monumental. It was
hard to believe it had all taken place in just one day.
Every muscle in her body begged for sleep, but her mind
wouldn’t disengage. She saw the vault with all its priceless relics and the
mysterious journal containing the history of her kind. Her kind. She smiled.
She was an Omni Prime. An untrained, fledgling Omni Prime, but she could no
longer deny her calling.
The energy transfer had shown her so many things. She
couldn’t wait to examine them one by one. Perhaps she’d write a journal of her
own, detailing what she had learned. Or were the details already recorded?
She’d have to read the Historians’ journals, find out how much of what she’d
seen was already written down.
Go to sleep!
She rolled to her back and rested her
forearm across her eyes.
She’d taught herself some simple relaxation techniques after
her mother died. Maybe she could coax herself into slumber if she utilized them
now. She took a deep breath and pictured water flowing over her body, washing
away her worry and speculation. She consciously released the tension for each
individual muscle group, starting with her shoulders and working her way down.
Her mind went blank, her chaotic images receding into the
depths of her memory. For one blessed moment everything was calm then a circle
of light gradually expanded, bringing an image into view. Like a fancy
slideshow transition, the scene overtook the blackness and then came to life.
A man in a camo jacket sat on the lowered tailgate of a
truck. Beside him was an open case containing a rifle with a massive scope. His
black boots were crossed at the ankle and he negligently swung his legs. He
raised a pair of compact binoculars to his face and scanned from right to left.
The image rotated then the perspective shifted and she was looking out through
the binoculars.
He was spying on the cat sanctuary! Why would anyone do
that?
The vision released as suddenly as it had started and
Carissa sat up in bed.
Quinn, can you come back here please?
Clutching
the sheet to her chest, she tried not to sound alarmed though her heart was
beating wildly.
The door pushed inward and Quinn stuck his head into the
room. “What’s the matter?”
“I’m pretty sure I just saw the bastard who shot me.”
He walked across the room and sat on the edge of the bed.
“What are you talking about? Did you have a dream?”
“More like a vision.” Had those words just come out of her
mouth? She gave herself a firm mental shake. She might as well get used to it.
Mystical happenings were part of her life now. “I was trying to relax and the
image just took over my mind. I think he’s out there right now, spying on the
cat sanctuary.”
“And why do you think it’s the same man who shot you?”
“Because of the gun in the back of his truck.” He’d just
watched her undergo an ancient ritual that fundamentally altered her
physiology. Why would he doubt her vision? “I don’t know much about guns, but
it looked like a sniper’s rifle to me.”
“Could you tell where he was or did you just see the
sniper?” He sounded less doubtful though still a bit wary.
“I saw his truck, his gun and the binoculars he was looking
through. For a second the vision shifted and I could see what he was seeing.
That’s how I know he was spying on the sanctuary.”
“Throw on some clothes. I’ll see if I can catch Ian.”
She found the jeans she’d worn the day before and grabbed a
t-shirt from the closet. It was much too big to be Devon’s but at least it was
clean.
Ian and Quinn waited for her in the living room. Both looked
tense and ready for action.
“When you looked out through his eyes, describe exactly what
you saw,” Ian directed without pleasantries.
“I saw the cat sanctuary. Lots of fences and the round
building in the middle.”
“Could you see the parking lot?”
She thought for a moment then nodded. “It was on the right.”
“Then he’s east of the property.” Ian scratched his chin,
eyes narrowed thoughtfully. “Was there tree cover or any sort of building?”
She closed her eyes and recalled the image. As the vision
rotated, she caught a glimpse of his surroundings. “He’s inside a rustic
structure. Maybe a barn.”
“The old Wilson property has a dilapidated barn on it,” Erin
said as she joined them in the living room. “Eli said all is quiet. Not so much
as a perimeter alarm has been tripped.”
“He’s either waiting for reinforcements or he hasn’t spotted
his specific target,” Quinn supposed. “I say we take him before he finds what
he’s looking for.”
“I’m coming with you.” Carissa dug in her heels and prepared
for his objections.
Chapter Twelve
Carly stood in front of the conference room monitors, trying
to stare down the grim-faced backers. Trepidation sped her pulse and dried out
her mouth. She clasped her hands behind her back to hide the way they trembled
and focused on Roberto, the pirate. She had interacted with him the most and
felt more comfortable with him than the general or Madam Butterfly.
“Have you been intimate with him?” Madam Butterfly asked.
Didn’t they talk to each other? Carly had given Roberto a
full report of her progress earlier in the day. He’d referred to Madam
Butterfly as Tias, but Carly had no idea if that was her first or last name.
“I have.” She glanced at Roberto, but like the others, he
remained expressionless. “He’s starting to suspect my motivation.”
“Let him think whatever he likes,” the general dismissed.
“It makes no difference to our ultimate purpose.”
Carly didn’t agree, but she knew better than to contradict a
backer. If Osric didn’t trust her, allowing him to use her body was pointless.
“If he thinks she’s working with us, he won’t tell her
anything we don’t already know.” Tias made Carly’s point for her, and Carly
mentally smiled.