Shifters Rule (Rule Series) Read online

  Mary impulsively threw her arms around his neck and gave him a quick hug. “Thank you. Thank you so much. I appreciate you letting me know, and I’ll try to be patient. I just hope he’s okay.” She went outside, turning around almost immediately. Doubt flooded her eyes. “If you find out something has happened to him, you’ll call me, won’t you? I know Billy has my number in his address book.”

  “I’ll call you as soon as I hear anything.”

  She left then, and Jack closed the door. He leaned against it. Tears stung the backs of his eyes because he knew something Mary didn’t know. Billy was gone, possibly lost to them forever.

  .

  *****

  .

  An hour later Silver appeared in the foyer like a beautiful apparition. Jack was watching an old movie on DVD, and he didn’t hear her car. One second he was alone and the next, she was standing there, smiling down at him. Caught off guard, he jumped off the sofa. While she waited, an amused grin on her face, he searched for the remote.

  The stupid thing wasn’t on the coffee table like it was supposed to be. It wasn’t on the floor near the sofa or between the cushions either. The television was on way too loud for her to hear him, so he didn’t try to talk. Finally, he hurried over to the TV and pushed buttons in a frantic rush until he found the right one.

  “Hey,” he said with a sheepish smile. He tripped over his own feet on the way to greet her. Blood infused his face. Smooth, real smooth. “What’s up?”

  “I wanted to see you.”

  Silver locked her arms around his neck and lifted her face. She seemed to be waiting for a kiss. Jack briefly touched his mouth to hers, nervous. He reached up, grabbed her arms by the wrists, and removed them. The words he’d overheard her say to Trina came racing back to his mind. She was going to propose marriage if he didn’t beat her to the punch. He was not ready for this conversation.

  The ring in his pocket grew heavier by the minute. He had wanted to plan a romantic evening. There wasn’t time for that now. Silver had taken that option out of his hands with her sudden appearance. He dug the ring box out of his pocket and said, “Before you leave for college I want you to know how much you mean to me.”

  Her eyes widened a fraction.

  He rushed on before she could get the wrong idea. “It’s a promise ring. Before you leave I need for you to promise me you’ll come back. Promise me you will accept an engagement ring when the time is right for both of us. Promise me you will always be my girl, no matter what.”

  She clapped her hands and jumped up and down several times. “Yes! Yes! Yes!”

  “I was hoping to do this right and make it romantic for you, but—.”

  “No. This is perfect.”

  His cell phone began to ring. It was on the coffee table. His eyes drifted over her shoulder, looking at the cell as he considered excusing himself for a moment to answer it. It could be important, maybe even news on Billy. Silver’s hands latched onto his arms. She recaptured his attention. The girl wasn’t going to let him walk away until she had the ring on her finger.

  Her over-the-top excitement elevated his nervousness. Had he been clear enough that it was just a promise ring? Had those words registered in her mind?

  He opened the box so she could get her first glimpse of the modest diamond. Her eyes grew even bigger. He slowly took the ring out of the box, stalling because something about this whole scenario seemed wrong to him. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it. The bad feeling twisting his gut was probably due to her boisterous reaction. The phone continued to ring, distracting him.

  Sighing, he pulled away from her. “Maybe I should answer my cell real quick. Whoever it is obviously isn’t going to give up until they talk to me.”

  “No,” she said, pouting. “Ignore it.”

  Jack did a double-take. Again the bad feeling hit him. Something was off. She wasn’t acting like herself. He went to answer his phone, his gut a twisted mess. While she waited in the foyer, he grabbed his cell. The Caller ID had Silver’s name on it.

  His eyes glued to the Silver in the foyer as he lifted the phone to his ear. “Hello?”

  Silver’s voice traveled down the line to him. “Do you have any idea how long I’ve been trying to get in touch with you? Did Ian tell you I called? I left a message with him, and he promised to get it to you.”

  “I need to call you back in a few.”

  “I don’t think so. I’ve been going crazy trying to figure out why you won’t talk to me. What’s going on?”

  “Got a little situation here.” His eyes narrowed on the fake Silver. “I’ll call you in five, ten minutes tops. I promise.”

  He disconnected the call without giving her a chance to respond.

  The impostor laughed. “Oops. I’ve been found out, haven’t I?”

  He scowled. “Blanca.”

  As soon as he said her name she changed back to herself. Her body rippled. Blanca’s stick-skinny frame appeared. Gloating, she grinned. “Gotcha! You actually believed I was her. I wonder how the real Silver would feel if she knew you could be so easily fooled.”

  “What do you want?”

  She shrugged her narrow shoulders. “I was kind of missing you. I was your kitty for soooo long. It’s kind of hard to walk away. You’re like a drug in my system. I can’t go cold turkey. Do you miss me sometimes?”

  Jersey had asked the same ridiculous question. Knowing Blanca was bad tempered, he chose his words carefully. “I miss the way you were when you were my cat. Now that you can transform into other things, other people, you belong with Jersey. And how is my old teacher anyway? Does he have a message or anything for me? Is that why you’re here?”

  “Jersey and I don’t talk about you.”

  He didn’t believe her. “Do you know what Jersey is planning?”

  She shrugged again. “I’m not going to tell you, silly. Jersey Clifford can be scary when he’s crossed.”

  Now that he believed.

  “Is there anything you can tell me?”

  Wearing a wry smile and heading for the door, she said, “I can tell you one thing.”

  “What?”

  “Jersey has a plan to kill you, and I think it’s going to work beautifully.” Her voice lowered to an intimate level. “You’re going to die… you and the werewolf hunter, and I’m going to watch.”

  So much for missing him. He stared after her as she left, and he wondered how long it would be before she forced him to kill her. Jack made a quick call to Silver. Once he mentioned Blanca had paid him a nasty little visit, Silver forgot everything else including her urge to propose to him. They talked for hours, like old times, until his eyes refused to stay open another minute.

  .

  *****

  Chapter Three:

  POWERS TO BURN

  .

  .

  Jack froze in bed as an intruder dragged their leg over the window sill. He held his breath and focused on listening. Feet slowly crossed the room, cushioned by thick carpeting. They drew closer by the second. He reached out an unsteady hand and switched the lamp on. Bright light flooded the room, momentarily blinding him. Not the smartest move he could have made. Whatever it was could get him before he even had the chance to see it.

  It wasn’t a vampire because he hadn’t invited one into his house lately, but it might be a werewolf. Or Blanca might have returned. Silver wouldn’t climb a tree to enter his bedroom. Whoever it was, he was sure they weren’t there to kiss him goodnight.

  He waited with clenched fists.

  Nothing happened.

  His eyes adjusted to the light and a familiar shape took on detail. He’d been right with his first guess. It was a werewolf.

  Billy grinned down at him, teeth sharper than normal. He smelled like sweat and excitement, and his voice quivered as he said, “I used to dream about this moment, only our roles were reversed, and you had come to kill me.”

  Billy was on top of him in a flash. Hard fists pummeled his body fro
m head to stomach. Claws ripped at his unprotected flesh. He tried to defend himself, arms up, covering his face. Billy was too strong. There wasn’t anything he could do. He was going to die. Billy grabbed his shoulders, shaking him violently.

  “Wake up!”

  Jack’s eyes snapped open.

  Startled, he stared up at his uncle’s concerned face. It took him a moment to realize he’d actually been asleep. Lucky him. It was going to take a long time for the violent images to fade, not to mention eons before his heart stopped pounding violently within his chest.

  Ian’s fingers dug into his shoulders. With a grimace Ian released his tight hold on Jack and said, “I could hear you screaming bloody murder all the way downstairs. I thought someone was killing you. Do you have these nightmares often?”

  “No.” He noticed Ian was fully clothed. “Were you patrolling outside again?”

  “Actually, I was getting ready to hunt. I think you should come with me. It will be safer for you, and I won’t be distracted worrying about something getting to you while I’m away. Get up and get dressed.”

  Jack checked the clock on his bedside table and groaned. “It’s two in the morning. Are you kidding me?”

  “I apologize for the early hour, but werewolves don’t usually gather for afternoon tea.”

  “Why do you want to go hunting now? You haven’t done anything but watch over me since you got here.”

  “Precisely. It’s been far too long for me already. I need to keep my skills sharp. Know what I mean?”

  Unfortunately, Jack knew exactly what Ian meant.

  A dash of ice cold water flooded Jack’s veins. Ian wanted to go hunting now because he was hoping to stumble across Billy. It must be difficult for a hunter to have a monster in the family.

  Jack scrambled out of bed, grabbing his discarded clothes from earlier as he went. He pulled an army green jersey over his head as he hurried down the stairs. There was no way he was going to let his newfound uncle kill his brother. If Billy showed up, Ian had better get ready to fight two instead of one.

  Ian was in the living room, packing a light duffel bag with weapons. He glanced up at Jack and said, “I’m unaware of how you usually take on this task so let me fill you in on how I handle it. We will be doing this my way since it’s my hunt.”

  That didn’t surprise Jack. Ian seemed to be a bit of a control freak.

  “I believe in a straight out fight. You won’t see me laying in wait while a werewolf wanders into a cleverly planned trap. I track the beasts using old-fashioned methods I learned from my mentor, may his soul rest in peace.”

  Jack stifled a yawn with a balled fist. Tired enough to drop on the spot, he tried to appear interested. So, the guy who had taught Ian how to hunt was dead, probably ripped to shreds by a werewolf. He hoped the student was better than the teacher.

  Ian added, “You will stay by my side the entire time. Do you understand me?”

  “I’m not a child.”

  “You are to me.” Ian approached him with slow steps designed to make Jack nervous. The man’s dark eyes, hard as the magic rock, stared into Jack’s as he repeated, “You will do everything I tell you without hesitation. Do you understand me?”

  “Yeah. I get it. I’ll stand at your right hand like an obedient dog.”

  A reluctant smile stretched Ian’s mouth. “Sometimes you can be an ungrateful git, do you know that? I am trying to keep you safe. Stop behaving like one of my freshmen students and act your age.”

  Act his age? Which one? He had turned eighteen a few months ago. In reality he was twenty-eight. That is if you counted the decade he’d spent as a vampire.

  Ian placed a hand on his arm, physically turning him and pushing him towards the front door, duffel bag in his other hand. They were going hunting even though Jack didn’t feel like doing anything other than crawling back into bed. He couldn’t wait to tell Silver about this.

  If he survived the night.

  .

  *****

  .

  Ian hunched down in an open field as Jack stayed with the car. It was a humid summer night. An occasional warm wind brought short-lived relief and played with their hair. Ian hunched down and ran a hand over the grass before pulling up a clump of soil. He smelled it. Slowly he stood, eyes on the dark horizon. The man stretched his arm straight out in front of him and opened his hand, releasing the grass and dirt. The light breeze blew it at an angle.

  Jack watched in silent fascination. His uncle reminded him of a professional tracker in the old movies he used to watch with his dad. Was it possible to tell which way the werewolves had gone by smelling the grass? Jack wanted to ask, but was afraid to disrupt his uncle’s flow. The man seemed perfectly in-tune with nature, a level above other hunters.

  Jack hated to admit it, even to himself, but Ian was totally cool. He wondered if his father had performed the same rituals when he hunted. For a brief nostalgic moment Jack wished his parents told him about their true occupation. Perhaps he could have gone hunting with his dad. Maybe the Creeds would still be alive if they’d trusted their sons with the truth.

  Ian returned to Jack’s side and said, “We’re in luck. I thought we’d have to hunt them down, but they’re coming to us. There’s a werewolf on the left and two on the right. I want you to stick with the car. You may watch the fight. However, I do not want you to engage the enemy under any circumstance. Do you understand?”

  “What if they engage me?”

  “They won’t. They’ll come straight for me as if you aren’t even here.”

  Jack shook his head in confused irritation. He might not be an experienced hunter, but he knew a few things about werewolves. They didn’t ignore anyone, especially not the former vampire named Jack Creed. The smell of vampire still clung to him like a second skin.

  Jack asked, “Why did you bring me with you? I thought we were going to do this together.”

  “What made you think that?”

  “Back at the house you said we were going to do it your way.”

  “We are. My way is for you to stand next to the car while I kill a few werewolves.”

  Ian dropped the duffel bag on the ground before he took several steps forward. Jack did as he was told even though he thought the whole thing was ridiculous. He walked backwards until there was enough space between them to drive a truck through. It was then Jack realized his uncle didn’t have a weapon in his hand. He opened his mouth to yell a warning, to remind Ian that he was unarmed. The sound of oncoming violence distracted him.

  Growls and snarls floated on the night air. Three wolves watched them from the other side of the field. As if in mutual agreement the werewolves began to run, coming straight for Ian. They changed at midpoint from wolves to men, yet continued to travel on all fours until they were almost on top of Jack’s uncle. It would have been funny seeing grown men in suits running like dogs if not for the seriousness of the situation.

  In the final seconds before reaching Ian, they stood erect.

  Some werewolves preferred to fight in canine form while others enjoyed using their fists instead of teeth. Either way they could use their invisible claws. Either way they were dangerous.

  Jack went to his knees and dug inside the bag for a weapon, frantic. He dragged a dagger free while keeping both eyes on Ian. For a great hunter Ian seemed unprepared. Jack opened his mouth to yell to Ian that he had a weapon for him. The words stuck in his throat.

  Ian hit a werewolf in the chest with his open palm. The beast cried out in pain. Ian’s hand glowed as if it was on fire. The fire spread, burning the werewolf. Clothes and flesh were eaten away by hungry orange embers. The embers worked like tiny locusts, feeding on everything they touched. The werewolf turned black, ashes to ashes, dust to dust. It fell in a clump of filth at Ian’s feet.

  Nothing Silver could do to a werewolf matched this man’s power. And Jack had thought Jersey was scary. Perhaps it was time to redefine the word. Ian Carver was beyond terrifying.

>   Jack moved backwards and considered running for home. He could lock the doors, barricade himself inside. Of course Ian wasn’t a vampire or even a werewolf. It was possible he could burn his way through the door.

  True to his word, Ian killed the three werewolves without breaking a sweat. After he finished, he approached Jack with a somber look in his eyes. He was waiting for Jack’s reaction. He stopped a couple of feet away as if he didn’t dare get any closer. Maybe he was waiting for the questions to begin. There should be a zillion, but...

  Jack was speechless.

  Ian bent down and retrieved the duffel bag. He went to the car and got inside without a single word. The engine revved to life. The headlights hit Jack, blinding him so he couldn’t see Ian’s face behind the dark windshield. Bugs danced in the light. Jack swatted at the ones closest to his face. He experienced the urge to run once again, stronger this time. If he was smart, he would use his vampire-speed to reach the house before Ian.

  What if Ian could run fast?

  Feeling defeated, Jack climbed into the passenger seat. He took his time in shutting the door. His seatbelt remained unfastened. It wasn’t a good idea to strap yourself into a car with a person who burned werewolves to death. He might need to make a quick exit. He wanted to look at Ian, ask the question on his tongue, but he was afraid to open his mouth.

  They sat in silence for several minutes.

  The car began to roll backwards. When they reached the main road, Ian turned them in the right direction. They were headed for home. The car’s dark interior was suffocating. Jack rolled the window down and leaned his head out. The warm air blew his hair out of his eyes. He gulped it in and took strength from it.

  Ian’s deep voice rumbled above the sound of the engine. “When we first met, I had trouble looking at you without hating every fiber of your being. Do you know why that is?”

  Jack reluctantly pulled his head back inside the car. “I have no idea.”

  “You remind me of my father.” Ian sneered. “I loathed everything about the man from the second I was born. If I had the power, I would kill him without hesitation.”