Shift After Dark Read online

  Above, a bird called as it burst from the branches. Glancing up, she spied a large black raven alighting from branch to branch, its weight making the snow fall. It cocked its sharp head as if it were looking at her... waiting.

  It flapped its wings and cawed loudly before swooping down and circling her before zooming back up to the branches.

  Pushing past her fear Isla clamored through the snow as the bird hopped and flew from treetop to treetop above it ahead of her. When it took a sharp left, going deeper into the forest, she put all sense of realism aside and followed. She couldn’t stop looking back this time, positive something was going to pounce on her back and drag her down.

  When the trees thinned with the barest parting of branches, she came face-to-face with the cabin. It appeared out of nowhere, so perfectly set in the middle of thick pines that it took on the perfect camouflage. The siding was a strange beige/white that made it hard to distinguish from the snowy surroundings. The metal roof was a neatly blended shade of green. Dark wood trim and a door that looked like it was covered in bark from a white pine furthered the efforts to assimilate the cabin into the surroundings.

  Digging the key from her pocket, Isla glanced up to see the bird sitting on the porch railing. Its beady eyes blinked with reptilian quickness, the small orbs taking on a human blush with the depth of inquisitive light. Did she... did she really believe the bird had led her here?

  The snap of branches filled the air. The bird squawked and startled from its perch. A low rumble sounded from the ominous depths of the forest.

  Oh no.

  Bursting into action, Isla fumbled to unlock the door. The lock gave way; she tumbled inside. Catching herself, she hurried to close the door, faltered against its unexpected weight. It was thick and shut hard against the jamb with a metallic clang. Three dead bolts waited to be locked.

  Three? With a shudder, she engaged them all then pressed her back to the wall and listened.

  The snow crunched; branches snapped like fragile bones. Heavy breathing paused as if it too, were listening.

  For her.

  A squeak on the porch. Another followed by a thud. Shuffling. And then, quiet.

  Would it try to get in? Death was sacred to the Ahpret, at least from her brother’s report. They killed their enemies without mercy. But those who sought death or offered themselves as a sacrifice to a hungry beast had to give permission before the Ahpret could act.

  Isla breathed slowly through her nose, her chest and throat burning with the need to draw and exhale full breaths.

  The wall suddenly vibrated with the force of something banging it from the outside. She screeched and scrambled away, covering her head with her arms as if the entire house might come down.

  “Don’t come out until dawn!”

  The barked words were a mangled mixture of human speech and animalistic growl, the resonance of it bringing terrified tears to her eyes.

  They fell, wetting her cheeks, dipping into her lips as she curled herself as tightly as she could. Pain began to uncurl at the base of her skull, a familiar precursor to what was to come. Her thoughts shifted from fear over the Ahpret to dread over what the next few hours would bring. The pain would become excruciating, reducing her to a moaning, writing mess on the floor. Sweat lined her hairline, weakness swept over her body, tipping her onto her side in a fetal position. Her screams would draw the monster back.

  Maybe death would come early tonight.

  Chapter Two

  Isla jerked awake.

  Her senses awakened all at once—the heavy air, and a metallic taste on her tongue. Dark shapes and objects created unfamiliar shapes all around her. Where was she?

  A loud sound cracked the air.

  She jerked to her feet.

  Another solid boom vibrated around her... a gunshot?

  Moving to the window beside the door, she pulled back the edge of the curtain and peeked out. Memory of the massive shape near the porch passed through her mind. The dark night was punched with rays of moonlight streaking over the snow. Expecting to see something horrible, Isla sighed in relief when nothing growled back at her. There were only trees, and snow, and fractured, silver light.

  She must have fallen asleep. She’d been dreaming in that weird half-asleep, half-awake state. The pain had germinated in her skull but hadn’t blossomed as it usually did. Sometimes she got lucky like that. What luck that it had been tame. Otherwise her screams might have drawn the beast back to her door.

  Hearing nothing else, she moved to turn on a light and got her first full view of the cabin.

  A scream ripped through the air, the sound slicing through the house as if it were inside. The tone was human... and male.

  Racing to the curtain, she pulled it back and peered out again while keeping herself small against the wall. Muffled sounds beat their way to her ears, but she saw nothing.

  There! A human voice, shouting. Two types of humans could be out there, the shifter-vampire kind, or hunters. Neither were a breed she wanted to face on her own. But the strain of the voice, filled with fear and the unmistakable thickness of pain, pushed a nerve.

  Years of working as a physician in a hospital that gave priority to those with deep pockets made it hard to ignore what she heard. Someone needed help. For the past five years, she and Bjorn had given good care to those who couldn’t afford it. Secretive and illegal care to those who would have otherwise died. Maybe it was her “help everyone” mentality, or maybe it was the root of humanity itself. Could she really stay inside and not help?

  Pushing fear aside, Isla pulled the ends of her coat together and maneuvered the locks. Cracking the door just enough to look, she peered out. Seeing, hearing nothing, she pulled the door back a fraction more. Crisp air burned her throat, and the threshold mocked her, reminding her that its narrow width was all that that separated her from the wild. Perhaps if she just listened and better heard what was going on, she could make a choice to help or hide. But her pulse rushed in her ears, blocking out almost everything else.

  “No! Help me!”

  The cry came from directly ahead, deep in the shadows. Her breath came in shaking waves, the cold air burning her throat. What the hell could she possibly do? An Ahpret had likely trapped a human hunter—unfortunate, but that was the risk of trespassing on forbidden land to hunt something that would hunt you back— and win. This wasn’t her fight... yet, she couldn’t just walk away.

  Fuck, I’ve been hit!

  She whipped a look side to side. The voice whispered in her ear. She touched the side of her face, expecting to feel someone close, to feel something. Icy shivers ran over her skin. There was nothing there.

  This isn’t good.

  “Hello?” The word popped from her mouth with no forethought. A stupid, human reaction to fear and uncertainty. To know someone else was there, either good or bad.

  She crept to the edge of the porch and perched at the top of the stairs. The door was close enough that she could dart back inside and bolt the deadbolts—comforting, but not enough to ease her nerves as a scuffling sound came from her right. The air was crystalline and conductive, every sound amplifying while cloaking its location. She looked around, her throat going tight as the night went completely still.

  This was stupid. She should have stayed inside.

  A gunshot ripped over her head. She ducked, her foot sliding forward on the slick lip of the steps. In a rush, momentum propelled her forward. She made a desperate grab for the railing, but it was too late as she tumbled down the steps. The back of her head hit the middle step as she slid down and landed in the snow.

  Lights darted behind her eyes as she gasped for breath. She blinked, dazed by stars that dripped from the sky and danced in front of her face. Her breathing was loud in her ears, the bound of her pulse hard against her neck. Noises assaulted her from every direction — running footfalls, breaking branches. The crunch of underbrush.

  Heavy breathing laced with a snarling rumble.

 
; Panic flared through her, but she couldn’t move. The breathing got closer until it nearly enveloped her. She sensed something near the trees, close enough she could feel its presence but far enough back that its warmth didn’t touch her.

  “You ruined my hunt.” The masculine voice was gravelly and dark.

  The turmoil of panic inside her did nothing to inspire movement. Struggling to gather her senses, Isla grabbed the back of her aching head with one hand and slowly pushed herself into a sitting position. The hulking figure was half concealed by a tree close to the house.

  It moved into a sliver of moonlight that highlighted the reddish brown of its fur. It was a bear! This Ahpret was a bear shifter, a huge one.

  “I’m... I’m sorry.” Isla whispered. She pushed herself backward with her feet and grappled for the step behind her, but it wasn’t there. Remembering the gunshot, she thrust both hands out in front of her.

  “I’m unarmed.”

  The form doubled over as if in pain and moved farther behind the tree. If her eyes weren’t cemented on the figure, she would have thought it had left. But then it moved slowly, gracefully stepping in front of the tree. She saw an arm—human—the shoulder and dip of neck. But the face and the rest of the body were still bear.

  “If you were armed, I’d have to kill you.”

  He slipped back into the shadows and Isla scrambled to her knees, ready to push herself up. But an overwhelming wave of dizziness went through her and she fell forward onto her hands. A spiral of pain—so familiar—uncurled in the back of her head.

  “No, no, no,” she mumbled. “Not now.”

  Her body had to make up for lost time seeing how she’d been pain free the night before. A band tightened around her head and she knew she was about to pay for yesterday’s reprieve.

  She tried to look up, to face the creature head on, but couldn’t find the strength.

  “I sorry,” she said, but her voice was small.

  The snow crunched. Isla’s heart pounded painfully in her throat. She wanted to look, to see if he was moving closer, but her body wouldn’t obey. She didn’t want to die like this. Not tonight. Not without a few more hours, at least, to prepare for it. She drew a shaking breath.

  “Please, may I go back inside?”

  “No, you may not.” Its sigh was deep and impatient. “Get up.”

  Pain pressurized inside her head, the dizziness prompting nausea to churn in her gut. The Ahpret could sense her weakness, she was sure. Why was he toying with her?

  She managed to push herself unsteadily to her feet. In the span of time it took her to get her balance and stop floundering like weak prey, the bear could have struck and pounced on her. But he didn't. Why? The last of her ponytail set free, her hair spilling around her shoulders. She straightened, her head rolling back, so she had a perfect visual of the beast. Two preternaturally blue eyes stared back at her from his shadow-covered face. She trembled, unable to look away.

  Warmth crept up from her feet and spread through her legs, over her middle and flushed out to the rest of her body. Eerie calm settled her nerves, all her fear suddenly... gone. Isla swallowed hard. It was some method the Ahpret had, she thought, to subdue prey before draining them dry. A compulsion, probably.

  A low grumble came from deep in his throat.

  “Lower your eyes.” Each word was impacted with that throaty rumble.

  The throb in her head pounded like a bass drum. Isla dropped her eyes and cringed against the pain. Meeting his eyes was a sign of aggression. Just another of the many mistakes she’d already made in the few hours she’d been here.

  The Ahpret remained silent and still. Each second that passed seemed more like minutes. A sound similar to a purred growl rumbled from deep within him. “Go inside.”

  Isla’s hands tingled at the finality in his voice. It was a warning, a threat.

  “Thank you,” she conceded tightly and turned to go.

  “Wait.” His voice turned silky, seductive. Her body responded, the heat she’d felt earlier pooling between her legs with a desperate ache. Isla pressed her thighs together, blindsided by her body’s reaction. When was the last time she’d felt this? Lust, desire? She was suddenly desperate to see him, all of him. The urge to go to him, to be closer made her step back and grapple for the railing.

  He was using compulsion on her; he had to be.

  “You distracted me before I could drink from the hunter. It’s only fair that you provide me an offering.”

  Oh, God. Her body seemed to shrink into itself though the demanding lust was as potent as ever. Did he know she was having this crazy reaction? What exactly did he want as an offering?

  “Your blood.” He dropped the words as if he’d read her mind. “Bare your neck and let me feed.”

  Just then, the beast dropped onto all fours and rambled from the shadows. Each inch of receding shadow revealed the bulk and lines of his massive body, the amber fur, and fierce blue eyes. He was larger than any bear she’d seen in the media or in a zoo, the sheer width of him rolling with muscle and strength. And his paws... one could cover her entire head and then some, the hooked, lethal claws enough to rip her wide open. Blood trickled from deep within the fur on his side, flattening the hairs in a dark river.

  She swept all of him with disbelief.

  “Please,” she whispered. I’m not ready! Not yet. He could feed from her just enough that she’d make new blood and come away unscathed. But the sheer power radiating off him suggested he might not leave a single drop left.

  A hiss followed by a deep rumble echoed through the crisp air. The shifter whipped his head to the side and opened his mouth wide. Two knife-like fangs dropped down where his canine teeth had been.

  Nothing Bjorn had told her prepared her for the reality of seeing an Ahpret unleashed. He was a freaking vampire! She’d always known, of course, but hadn’t really known until now. She put her hands out palm up, though the urge to go to him, to... touch him, made it hard to stay put. His intelligent eyes locked on her, his body going still. The fangs began to recede.

  “You’re ill.” His gravelly voice was laced with surprise.

  Isla held her breath for two beats. Of course, he could tell she was sick; he could probably smell her cancer or taste it with some primeval sense. Would he attack now that he knew she was weak?

  Shivering uncontrollably, Isla clenched her eyes, afraid to look, afraid to make a wrong move. There was nowhere she could go; she had no way to defend herself. And now that he sensed her weakness, there was no telling what he’d do.

  “Don’t come out after dark again. I won’t be so forgiving next time, human.”

  A gunshot burst through the air, quickly followed by another which seemed to come from a different direction. She crouched low with a gasp.

  “Go!” The Ahpret’s words died off to the sound of another blast. A deep grunt preceded the crack of breaking branches and something falling heavily to the ground.

  Isla froze. The air went still. No movement, no footfalls of a hunter moving in. No sound of the Ahpret. Only her pulse and the increasing pain playing bass in her skull.

  The sickening sound of a bullet making contact and the Ahpret’s agonized cry left little doubt that he’d been shot. So, why wasn’t the hunter coming to claim him?

  When nothing happened, she scanned the woods. There... a deep growl followed by a groan coming from the trees where she’d first seen the beast. The resonance of the sound was remarkably human. Agonized.

  Isla grabbed a small tree trunk with one hand to steady herself, cautiously looking at the ground. Shadows stared back at her. The fear she’d experienced before was gone, replaced by adrenaline. The same adrenaline that prompted her into action as a doctor—it fueled the drive to help. Sometimes, even at personal cost.

  She called softly. “Where are you?”

  No response. She focused her hearing to pick up the smallest sounds.

  “Leave.”

  One word soaked in pain.
/>   Trembling, she moved around the trees. The moonlight highlighted the broad imprint of the Ahpret’s body in the snow. Isla blinked twice; positive she was seeing an illusion. She peered closer, quickly realizing this was no trick of the eye. His body transformed into the shape of a man, the shag of fur receding into skin. Claws morphing into fingernails. Within seconds, the transformation was complete, leaving her dumbfounded... until she realized the beast had turned into a man, lying naked in the snow and a puddle of his own blood.

  He’d been shot in the chest.

  She dropped to her knees, fighting her own pain, and spread her hands inches above the chest wound as if she could stop the sheer amount of bleeding. Isla shrugged out of her jacket, wadded it up and pressed it against the wound. He made no response, not even a flinch. In humans, this wound would be fatal. Bjorn had told her how differently the Ahpret healed. Even with their remarkable healing abilities, this man had a hole blasted in his chest.

  How could anything survive that?

  He needed a hospital. A trauma center. He needed fluids and blood and a chest tube—

  Sickening desperation welled inside her. Tears hit her eyes and rolled down her face as a primal sense of longing clawed at her emotions. The possibility of losing him seemed monumental and devastating—ridiculous considering he’d been seconds from sinking his teeth into her neck and taking her blood. They had no connection, yet they somehow did.

  “Hey!” Isla whisper shouted. The shooter could show up any moment. They had to get into the cabin and lock it up tight. Pressing the jacket hard with one hand, she ground the knuckles of her other hand into his muscular chest to see if he’d flinch. Nothing.

  Blood soaked through the jacket, warming her fingers. Feeling for a pulse at the side of his neck, she nearly cried in relief to feel a soft beat.

  “Are you with me?”

  A fresh well of tears spilled over her cheeks as she pushed to her feet. The pain in her head clawed to her temples, steadily increasing in its anger. It wouldn’t be long before she was incapacitated herself. The tumor burrowed deep in her brain didn’t play around; if it wanted to shut her down for a nice little nap, or debilitate her with ripping pain, she had no control to stop it. Just not now!