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Shift Happens(83)

By:J. C. McKenzie


The men had already parked and ambled out of the vehicles. The community playground, downwind from Ethan’s mansion, filled with naked pre-shift Werewolves and Vampires, all milling about finalizing plans. More cavalry occupied the other parks surrounding the house, far enough away to be undetectable to the Wereleopards’ noses and sentries. Not only would it be too late to run, but by the time Ethan sensed the attack, there’d be nowhere to run to.

“Remember, you’re going to wait,” Wick said to me. “When we give the signal for you to come in, stay behind me. Let me and my wolves take care of Ethan for you.”

I shot him a quick smile and nodded. Wick planned to immobilize Ethan for me, so I’d only have to waltz in and sever his head from his body. I couldn’t let Wick do that. No way would I let someone else do my fighting, or chance something going wrong. Clint and Allan’s presence made my skin itch. I also didn’t want Wick to put himself in unnecessary danger. Not for me.

Wick growled when I yanked off my shirt.

“I said I’d wait, not how I would wait,” I said. I crossed my arms over my bra.

He shut his mouth and stalked off. Only to stop twenty paces away before marching back to stand in front of me. Planting his feet in a wide stance inches from mine, he gripped both my arms and loomed over me. “Be careful,” he said with a gruff voice, as if his vocal cords sprouted coarse wolf hair. He leaned down and pressed his lips tenderly against mine before whirling around and running off to join his pack. Fucking alphas. He didn’t even give me a chance to slip him some tongue.

When the assault team spread out, turning their backs on me, I shucked off the rest of my clothes and willed the change. Skin folded in on itself, feathers sprouted, my body condensed. I launched into the air.

Circling the mansion, I made out the wolves and Vampires moving into position. ‘Team Lucien’ easily maneuvered around Ethan’s sentries, having scouted them out beforehand. Angling closer to the house, I searched for an open window. There were several. But which one would lead to Ethan? And what did he look like? I didn’t know because no one had a picture.

I’d look for the pompous ass who ordered everyone around with a flick of his wrist—a stereotype, sure, but it hadn’t led me wrong yet.

A grand ballroom with giant floor to ceiling windows faced the ocean. Long black out curtains were pulled to the side, but the edges still showed to the outside world. Seeing nothing to perch on outside, I battled the offshore wind to do a number of fly-bys. A few vamps sauntered about, but the large, red velour chair at the end of the room, looking an awful lot like a throne, remained empty. I couldn’t make this stuff up. Who had a chair like that? Ethan. That’s who. It practically screamed Vampire Master because without fail, they were all over the top and easy to spot. Lucien had a similar chair.

If Ethan wasn’t sitting in his throne, lording over his minions, where was he?

I kept looking. If Ethan wasn’t a permanent fixture in the area, how did he have a posh place like this, outfitted with dungeons and his own special home décor? Vampires must have their own definition for a visit. Then again, being so old, a few years would be a short-term stay in comparison to their age. Something weird about the whole situation, but regardless, Ethan must’ve been pretty sneaky with his set-up to not raise any alarms with Lucien’s horde until now.

The volatile winds fought me as I pumped my wings harder to gain elevation. The master suite had to be the room on the top floor with a wall of windows. I quickly circled around and careened toward the patio. Wick’s group would attack soon and I needed to be poised to strike at the right time.

Light flickered in the otherwise dark room. Candles? Some of the older Vampires couldn’t evolve well to the changing times despite the horde of money they made over the years. The dull light reflected off two intertwined bodies. Good thing I wasn’t in wolf form. Vampire sex reeked of mildew and the dregs of a wine barrel. I’d never choose to bottle that fragrance. Gross.

The only windows open on this level were tiny—more vents than entrances—and even if I dropped a few pounds, I’d never fit through them. A screech threatened to erupt from my throat. I clamped down on it and flew around to the second floor, circling, desperately looking for an opening.

Casting my gaze to the surrounding foliage, I made out dark shapes moving toward the mansion.

There! A larger window on the second floor level, open just enough for me to fit. I pulled my wings in and barrelled through the opening just as cries of alarm rose in the house. Chaos reigned.





Chapter Thirty-Four