A Shifter's Curse, Raven Steele [the top 100 crime novels of all time .TXT] 📗
- Author: Raven Steele
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She glanced up at me, eyes pleading not to finish the sentence, as if she knew that I knew. I closed my mouth tight and made the motion of turning an invisible key and tossing it away. She mouthed the words, "Thank you."
No sweat, witchy. Turning around, I leaned back into the bar. The fight was dying down. A couple of humans had some minor cuts, and a shifter feline held her arm protectively. Overall, a decent brawl.
I scanned the masses for Silas, hoping I'd just missed him earlier, but he was nowhere to be found. My gaze found his employee, the hot shifter. I averted my gaze, too embarrassed to even give him a dirty look, and turned around to face the bar.
"When can I move in?" I asked Lynx.
She was in the middle of downing her soda. With sweat still on her face and the way she guzzled her drink, using magic had taken a toll on her.
"After I do." Samira joined us at the bar and placed her glasses back on the bridge of her nose. She wasn't even breathing hard.
I turned to Lynx. "Are you really going to let goth girl room with us? Come on. It's okay to tell her no. I'm sure it won't hurt her feelings."
"Um...I..." Lynx stammered, unsure what to say.
"Goth Girl?" Samira asked "What does that mean?"
I chuckled and nudged Lynx. "You tell her."
Lynx's face reddened, and she lowered her eyes. First priority of living with this girl—teach her to speak up, especially when being sarcastic. She was a witch, and a powerful one at that. If anyone could turn her into a bitch who could stand up for herself, it was me. She'd be the wickedest witch bitch in no time.
Samira continued to speak. "From what you've told me, the home is five thousand square feet spread across three floors with seven bedrooms and five baths. That is plenty of space for three people."
I touched my forehead. "Stop. You're making my head hurt. Numbers."
Lynx cracked a smile. "There is plenty of room. Some of the rooms are even furnished. You can come check it out tonight if you want. My schedule is open, and you can move in whenever."
"I call dibs on the furnished room!" I needed furniture. Badly.
"Dibs?" Samira asked.
I sighed, and Lynx smiled again. Looks like I had two projects. For a vampire who has probably lived five lifetimes, she wasn't clued in to current culture. She must have been living alone for a very long time. Why would she suddenly want roommates?
"A toast." Lynx held up her glass. Only ice remained.
I made a motion at the bartender. "Hey, Peeper! Give us two shots of Tennessee Honey."
He poured shots of the amber whiskey and handed them to me.
"Thanks, dude. I look forward to working with you."
He muttered something and turned away.
I handed Samira the drink, but she held out her hand in a stopping motion. "I don't drink."
"I'm going to pretend you didn't say that." I forced her to take it. I lifted my glass and glanced at my new roommates. A timid witch who probably had no idea how powerful she actually was and an old vampire who clearly had an agenda. "To new friends."
As I clinked my glasses against theirs, my stomach clenched tightly. It only ever did that when something bad was about to happen, but that was ridiculous.
What could possibly go wrong in a house with a witch, a vampire, and a shifter?
The house was a huge gothic mansion backed up against a rambling forest—the best part of the property. Whenever I wanted, I could slip away and let my wolf run. The dark, angular roof of the home absorbed the full moon’s light, making the old structure appear even darker. An eerie effect that I dug.
A quick glance at Samira told me she wasn't as impressed with the house, unless deadpan was her expression to everything.
We walked up the driveway, passing several large and ancient oak trees dripping with Spanish Moss. A rope swing hanging from a thick limb reminded me of one I used to swing on as a child. I wish I could go back to those days.
Grunting, I pushed away the memory and followed them inside the house.
“This is the shit,” I breathed and looked around the wood-paneled foyer with dark stained baseboard molding. Near the top of the cathedral ceilings was a stain glass window depicting a red pentagram. Interesting.
Samira breezed past me. “Must you always curse?”
“Get used to it, roomie.” I glanced back at Lynx who was standing in the doorway biting at her lip, her complexion pale. “You okay?”
She inhaled a deep breath and on her exhale smiled and said, “I’m good. Feel free to walk around and choose the room you want, except for the master bedroom on this floor. That’s where I’m at.”
I chose the room on the third floor in the northeast corner. It was away from my roommates and more open, two things I wanted. Samira took a room in the basement. It didn't have any windows and the only exit was through the stairs. It also smelled of rust and several years’ worth of dust. Enough reasons to make me hate it.
I walked back down the stairs and into the living room where Lynx stood by the fireplace, fingering a silver chain around her neck. Samira appeared at the same moment almost as if she had been listening for me. I stepped away from her to create space between us.
“Love my room, Lynx,” I said. “It’s perfect for smoking pot.”
When her face paled, I quickly added, “I’m just messing with you, but I’d keep an eye on this one.” I shoved a thumb in Samira’s direction.
“I don’t abuse substances,” Samira said.
I dragged a hand down my face.
“I’ll get my stuff and come back in the morning.”
“I have to leave too.” Samira walked toward the door not looking at either of us.
“Will you be back tonight?” Lynx asked her. “I can leave the back door unlocked.”
“No. Tomorrow night.” She opened the door and darkness swallowed her whole.
“I can not wait to get that woman drunk.”
Lynx laughed, but it was quiet and reserved.
I rubbed at an ache behind my neck, taking in her body language. “Is this the first time you’ve had roommates?”
“Is it that obvious?”
“Don’t be nervous. Your house. Your rules. If Samira is too cranky and boring, feel free to kick her out. I’ll help. And if you find me too bossy and mouthy, then I’ll buy you a bottle of Everclear. It worked for my houseparent at the group home I stayed at when I was younger.”
“You were in a group home?”
“Um, once or twice. I should get going.” I turned away from her, scolding myself for having revealed personal information. I needed to be more careful.
I said a quick goodbye and headed into the night. I wanted to search a couple of more clubs before sunrise. Maybe I'd catch a glimpse of Silas again. But, after the rest of the night proved fruitless, I returned to my cheap motel for another restless night of sleep.
The next morning, I was ready to leave the sleazy motel and its prehistoric cockroaches for good. I returned to the house with my two suitcases, ready to move in. Lynx seemed surprised to see me so early, but she graciously let me in with a smile and showed me to my room.
It didn't take me long to settle into my room. I only had one suitcase of clothing, consisting mostly of jeans and dark t-shirts, which I shoved into dresser drawers quickly. The suitcase also held the few things I'd swiped from foster homes over the years. They didn't necessarily mean anything to me, but I kept them anyway. Simple mementos of my time in each place.
The only other suitcase I had was an ugly green one from the seventies. It was a ratty old thing, intentionally left that way so no one would think it was worth anything. The truth was, it held my most valuable possessions. I'd saved up for months to buy the items in here. I'd lovingly nicknamed it my booby trap case.
First, I pulled out my bras that looked pretty average, but if one looked closely, they would see that the material was thick and stretchy, lined with detailed stitching
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