A young man who believes rules aren't meant for him. A by the book law enforcer. An interrogation gone wrong puts them in each other's paths.
Half-shifter, half-vampire, Alec doesn't really feel he fits in with either species. He likes to use his lo...
Last month's extra was an intro about what shifters are and I thought I'd keep the theme and write a bit more about them but... It's a festive month and I want something special.
➝ Who would be interested in me interviewing the pets from the Dogs, Bats & Monkeys series: Luna, Luca and Bear?
Do YOU have any questions for them?
Even if they are random ones like "Luca, what underwear does Alec wear?" or "Bear, what is Adrian's favorite workout exercise?" or "Luna, where do you, Rhys and Riley go for walks?"
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I paid the cab driver fifty bucks and sent him off, not having the patience to be gawked at any longer. Being drop dead gorgeous had its downsides, namely attracting attention when you were in no mood to do so. Thankfully, my grim expression had successfully halted the man's one and only attempt at a conversation.
I faced the black wrought iron gates of my grandfather's mansion and was just about to push the button to get buzzed in, when I heard a distant rumble coming from the road behind me and getting progressively louder. I turned my head and saw a motorbike approach. Even from that great distance, I knew it was Vika and the thought that she'd ride in on the machine our family detested made me smirk.
Perhaps I should've borrowed a bike and came on one too, but I've always had mixed feelings about the things. They were loud, too loud even, but when you rode on one the world around seemed to vanish in a blur of images. They gave certain freedom in that sense, which had its charm, but I also tended to associate them with my father and his pack. Many of the wolf shifters had a bike and Everett himself had offered to teach me how to ride his. I'd refused, of course, returning to their grounds on one of the machines - I'd borrowed it from a guy I'd been fucking at the time - a couple of months later, just to show dear ol' dad I didn't need him to teach me anything.
Vika stopped her bike - nothing flashy, but a simple, elegant and sporty black creature of metal - next to me, removed her shiny helmet and grinned.
"Couldn't help myself," she said. "I know I'd get an earful, but it's worth annoying them."
An electric buzz came from our side and the gate slung open silently; the security guards had probably decided we'd been outside long enough for them to let us in even without us touching the panel mounted on the column next to the gate. There was a buzzer button on it and a camera, stationary and much smaller than the rotating ones perched over the fence every ten or so feet.
"I guess that's our cue to get moving," my cousin voiced my thoughts, then beckoned me with her chin. "Hop on?"
She scooted forward and I slung my leg over the seat behind her, straddling it. Vika turned the handles, revving the engine, and off we went over the paved road splitting the garden in two and carrying us towards the monstrosity of a building that was our grandfather's mansion. It was constructed in an old, regal style, but had all the modern amenities one might need and the latest security system. We passed several guys in their uniform black suits and white shirts, and even though I couldn't see their guns, I knew they were carrying.
