One True Mate: Shifter's Solace (Kindle Worlds Novella)(8)

He must have shifted back into his human form blindingly fast, because he was at the door before her, barring her way. She struck out at him, pummelling him with her fists, but he grabbed her wrists and pulled her close up against his body so she couldn’t even knee him in the balls.

“Stop it,” he rumbled. “Just stop it. None of us are going to hurt you. Just the opposite – we want to protect you. I want to protect you.”

“Forgive my scepticism,” she said icily, “but you dragged me here unconscious, and now you’re physically stopping me from leaving.” She paused, then added in a slightly strangled voice, “And you have no clothes on.”

It wasn’t actually unpleasant being held up against his big, hard, warm body. Not unpleasant at all. In fact tension coiled low in her belly, a sensation that had nothing at all to do with fear or outrage. She was almost disappointed when he released her wrists and stepped back, pressing his back against the door. Sending the message, she supposed, that she still wasn’t going anywhere but he really didn’t want to hurt her.

They stood, eyes locked, both breathing hard.

Then a voice from behind her made her turn. “Anyone would be horrified by the sight of Rory’s junk. The Light knows, we make him cover up in the locker room. But he’s telling the truth. We had a really good reason for bringing you here.”

The speaker was a huge guy with a shock of overlong white-blonde hair and black tattoos winding their way up his muscular arms. He held out his hand.

“I’m Brady,” he said. “Sit down with us, and I’ll explain it to you. Then, if you still want to leave, you can. I promise.”

There was a growl from Rory – the firefighter at the door, the one she was fighting not to think of as “her” firefighter.

“Tone it down, Rory, you’re scaring the lady,” said Brady. “In fact, make yourself useful and go into the kitchen and make us all some coffee.” He returned his gaze to Ivy. “Well?” he said.

She studied him carefully. An explanation would be nice. And anyway, how was she going to fight her way out of here if half a dozen firefighters and a bear wanted to stop her? She reached out tentatively and took his hand. “Okay,” she said. “But once you’ve explained, I’m leaving.”

Brady nodded. “If you still want to,” he promised her, “you can.”

A few minutes later, introductions made, they were seated around a long table, each of them with a large mug of steaming coffee.

“So, the first thing you need to know is about shiften,” Brady began.

“Shifters?” Ivy asked. She nodded at Rory, noticing how large his hands were, cradling his mug of coffee. “Like him. He’s…a were-bear, right?”

A firefighter called Ben sucked in a pained breath between his teeth. “Ixnay on the erebear-way,” he said. “We’re bearen. And for The Light’s sake don’t call felen cats unless you want them to make you eat kitty-litter.”

“We?” Ivy looked around the table at the men she’d been introduced to. Ben, Brady, the Chief, twins Jasper and Jake, and her firefighter, Rory.

Not yours, she scolded herself. As soon as this is over, you’re getting out of here, moving to another state – hell, maybe even another country – crawling into the bottom of a bottle and staying there until you’ve killed enough brain cells to forget this ever happened.

“You’re all were-b— I mean bearen? Are all firefighters bearen?”

That was a ridiculous question, obviously, but then it had been a ridiculous day.

Brady smiled at her. “Not all firefighters are bearen, but most bearen are firefighters,” he said.

Then the Chief chimed in. He was a handsome black man who looked to be in his early forties, with a deep, musical voice that made Ivy feel safe and reassured, even though she knew she should feel anything but.

“There are three types of shiften,” he told her. “Bearen, like us. Usually firefighters. Wolven – what you’d call werewolves. They usually work as cops. Then there are the felen. Cat-shifters. Mostly they’re…soldiers, I guess you’d call them. Some of them are guards, or medics. Lots of them are mercenaries; some are in the government. Usually, we leave them alone and they leave us alone. Most bearen aren’t really cat people.”

“No,” Ivy said, slightly hysterically. “You’re bear people.”

The Chief went on. “All three types of shiften have one purpose; to defend humanity from a demon called Khain.”

“And that’s where you come in,” Rory interrupted. “The prophecy…”

Brady cleared his throat, and all eyes turned to him. His gaze turned soft and misty, as though he were looking at something elsewhere. And he began to recite.

In twenty-five years, half-angel, half-human mates will be discovered living among you.

This is how you will rebuild.

Warriors, all, with names like flora.

Save them from themselves, for they will not know their foreordination.

They will not be bound by shiften law, but their destinies entwine so strongly with their fated mates, that any not mated by their thirtieth year will be moonstruck. Those who are lost may be dangerous.

He shuddered as he came back from wherever he’d just been.

“So now you see,” Rory said, reaching out to gently take her hand. Her slender fingers were swallowed up in his. “You’re one of the women the prophecy talks about. Your name is Ivy. You’re twenty-five years old. And I bet you never knew your father, right?