Serengeti Heat: A Sexy Shifter Story. Page 8

  Ava looked around again, wondering where Kato was hiding. She was not left to wonder for long.

  A roar not heard in the pride for three months echoed across the amphitheatre from behind the platform. Leonus shifted right behind her and suddenly her brothers swept her away from the platform. Ava caught a glimpse of Landon, already in his lion form, being knocked from the platform by Leonus’s huge enforcer. They landed in a tangle in the space Ava and her brothers had just vacated, and Leonus leapt forward to swipe at Landon, claws out.

  Ava cried out in protest before her view was once again blocked by her brothers. She stared at their immobile backs in shock. Why weren’t they helping Landon? This was no true challenge, no fair fight. How could they just stand by and let him be mauled?

  She spun, scanning the crowd, looking for others springing to his aid. She saw Shana, standing back with her head tipped to one side as if watching a sporting match, with no real interest in who came out the victor. At the back of the crowd, she could see Zoe shoving her way to the front, but by the time she got there…

  Whereas Ava was right next to the action, separated only by her brothers, standing with their legs planted wide.

  She reached for the tie on her sarong, shifting and snaking between Caleb’s legs before the fabric had time to flutter to the ground.

  As she darted forward into the cleared area, Landon, his golden coat spotted with blood from the claw marks across his shoulder, shoved with his powerful hind legs, throwing Kato’s bulk off him and rolling clear of Leonus’s snapping jaws. He scrambled away from them, freezing in a defensive crouch when the small white lioness suddenly appeared at his side.

  Leonus and Kato squared off against them, hesitating now that the odds had been leveled against them.

  Ava snarled, trying to look formidable and less like a puny little weakling who had never fought for anything in her life, never dared dispute her place in the pride. Landon stepped forward, his body shielding hers from the aggressive males, but she would not let herself be protected. Not at his expense. She stepped forward with him, all but shaking with fear but determined to stand by him.

  Then suddenly Caleb appeared at her other shoulder, shaking his red-black mane. Tyler roared from Landon’s side as her other brothers prowled forward, aggressively circling Leonus and Kato. Zoe broke from the crowd in time to feint at the would-be usurpers, hissing and barking. With a ripple of movement, the rest of the pride quickly took their lion forms, crowding around with bared teeth and claws.

  Landon drew himself up and roared, the fierce vocalization echoing in the amphitheatre. The shadows of that roar chased his attackers as they turned tail and fled. Zoe and Michael leapt after them, intent on driving them out of the Three Rocks territory. Half a dozen others quickly joined them, eager for a run.

  In the chaos that followed their departure, as some shifted back to human form and others celebrated the pride’s victory in lion form, Landon nipped Ava’s ear to get her attention and herded her away from the roiling crowd to the relative privacy behind the platform.

  He shifted back to human form and she followed suit, accepting the sarong he whipped off the shelf behind the platform and wrapped around her. Careless of his own nudity, his eyes raced over her as if to assure himself she was whole. Ava’s did the same, her eyes drawn again and again to the gashes across his shoulder where Leonus’s claws had gouged him.

  “Those cuts look deep. You should—”

  “It’s nothing,” he said roughly, brushing aside her concern. “What were you thinking?”

  Ava blinked, startled by the abrupt question. “What?”

  “You could have been hurt, Ava.”

  “You were being hurt, Landon. What did you expect me to do?”

  His face twisted, his expression conflicted, as if he couldn’t decide whether he ought to be angry or elated. “The lioness who is brave enough to fight at my side, throwing all concern for her own safety out the window, is my true mate, Ava.”

  His words were like treasures, but Ava knew better than to think she’d be allowed to keep them. “I’m not strong or fast…”

  “No. You’re smart and brave. And you tell me when you think I’m being a foolish idealist.”

  “You are,” she insisted. “The pride won’t accept me as your mate any more than they will accept all your other changes.”

  “They will accept you and you will help me show them how to accept the other changes.”

  “Landon,” she sighed. It was a lovely dream, but one of them had to stay awake and face reality. “The consort is never someone like me.”

  “No, but maybe she should be.”

  “And if the pride won’t accept me? What then?”

  “Then we find another pride. It isn’t so bad, you know, being a nomad. I would rather be an Alpha without a pride to rule than to rule this one without you.” He cupped her face between his hands. “Be my mate, Ava. Be my love. Be all the things that only you can be. Please, just say yes.”

  He was a fool. It would never work, but staring into the gorgeous green-gold eyes of the man she loved, she couldn’t think of a single reason why. All she could think was what a miracle it was that he wanted her, lowly little Ava. He saw her answer in the tiny feline smile curving her lips before she gave him the single word that would seal their fates.

  “Yes.”

  Landon whooped and swept her up against his chest, spinning her around until she was laughing and dizzy. When he stopped spinning, he continue to hold her pressed tightly against him, her feet inches off the ground. His lips brushed across hers, a soft question. She tightened her arms around his neck and answered him the only way she knew how, with her mouth on his. Passion spiked instantly, sharp and hot between them, even though her heat had long since subsided.

  When she pulled back, they were both breathless and the light in Landon’s eyes promised that she would not be given a chance to catch her breath back.

  “I suppose we’d better introduce you to the pride,” he said, slowly easing her feet back down to solid ground.

  Anxiety tangled in her stomach. That was the one hitch in her perfect dream. He had said he would be her mate without a pride, but he obviously did not believe they would repudiate her as his mate. What would he do when it came time to put actions to his words? Would he choose her? Or the pride he had fought for and won?

  Landon leapt up onto the platform, tugging her behind him. As Landon raised his hands for silence, Ava looked out over the crowd. Those who had run off Leonus and Kato had returned. She saw Zoe looking unbearably smug and her brothers frowning up at her as Landon held her hand tightly in his own, preventing her retreat.

  She didn’t hear the words Landon called out over the crowd. Her nerves buzzed too loudly in her ears. She saw surprise on many faces, frowns on some—her brothers among them—and, amazingly, smiles on more than a few. The buzzing in her ears diminished when Landon raised their entwined fingers to his lips, brushing a kiss across her knuckles, and a rough cheer went up. Ava flinched a little at the sound, blinking owlishly. They were cheering her? Pathetic little Ava?

  “Now, to the Hunt!” Landon shouted. A thousand golden hues of fur sprang out in the crowd as the pride shifted. Zoe was among the first to tear out of the clearing, leading the charge toward the poor cattle herd on the menu tonight.

  As the amphitheatre emptied, Ava looked at Landon, still standing beside her, watching his pride depart with an easy smile on his lips and her hand clasped tightly in his.

  “Wouldn’t you like to join them?” she asked softly.

  Her lover, her mate, turned to her and smiled wickedly. “I only have one kind of prey on my mind tonight.”

  Ava smiled, feeling a female, feline power she had never known before this man came into her life. “You’ll have to catch me first.”

  She leapt from the platform, shifting in the air, and landed on all fours in a run. She heard a masculine chuckle transform into a distinctly leonine sound and the
sounds of pursuit behind her, but she did not look back. She raced through the compound toward his bungalow, feeling him close on her heels, knowing he was letting her win, matching his pace to hers, but she didn’t care. For once it wasn’t about being the fastest or the strongest, just about running with her mate. Laughter she couldn’t express in this form bubbled in her heart like champagne.

  She bounded up onto the front step of his bungalow inches in front of Landon, shifting as he did. His arms wrapped around her and he pressed her against the door, his stunning heat and strength warming her to her core. His mouth closed over hers. Ava’s dizzy happiness would not be contained and she laughed against his lips, coiling her arms around him.

  She felt him fumbling for the doorknob. He drew back from the laughing kiss, a small frown pinching his eyebrows as he raised his hand between them. Dangling from his fingers was the green-gold pendant. Ava gasped and Landon arched his brow in question.

  “What is it? Some kind of pride mating medallion?”

  Ava laughed. “Something like that.” She raised her hand and cupped the pendant in her hand, smiling to herself. Shana must have run here to leave it for her. Ava’s eyes filled with tears and she blinked them back, surprising herself by how affected she was by Shana’s small concession. Landon was still frowning, now with concern. She reassured him with a blinding smile. “You know, love, I think your idealistic fantasy might just have a chance of working.”

  His frown eased into a cocky grin. “I never doubted it for a second.”

  She held the pendant up next to her mate’s eyes, comparing the color. She sighed, “Perfect.”

  He traced the curve of her face with one finger, his eyes trained steadily on hers. “My thoughts exactly.”

  She raised up on her tiptoes to meet his kiss, a wild dizzy heat spiraling through her body at the first brush of contact. He shoved the door open and swept her into his arms. Landon carried her across the threshold and kicked the door shut, all without lifting his mouth from hers. Ava curled into his arms, a feline smile curving the mouth he held captive, and purred.

  He laid her on the bed, lowering himself beside her and she stretched like the cat she was, at home in her skin and in his arms.

  “So there’s only a risk of shifting at climax when I’m in heat?” she asked him as he nuzzled the side of her neck, inhaling deeply.

  “No, anytime you lose control it could happen,” he murmured, sliding down her body.

  Ava arched against him and smiled. “Make me lose control, Landon.”

  Her lover laughed low against her skin and bent his head to do just that.

  About the Author

  To learn more about Vivi Andrews, please visit her website at www.viviandrews.com or stop by her blog at http://viviandrews.blogspot.com. Vivi loves to hear from readers. You can email her at vivi@viviandrews.com.

  Look for these titles by Vivi Andrews

  Now Available:

  The Ghost Shrink, the Accidental Gigolo & the Poltergeist Accountant

  Brotherly love? Oh hell no…

  Kiss and Kin

  © 2009 Kinsey W. Holley

  A Shifter Dreams story.

  On the surface, court reporter Lark Manning looks like the luckiest girl in the world, blessed with great friends and a wonderful family. Underneath, she harbors a hopelessly unrequited love for the sexy werewolf everyone thinks of as her cousin. Taran rarely notices her except to condescend or lecture. He’s treated her the same way since she was eight years old, and there’s no reason to think he’ll ever change.

  Taran Lloyd, a detective in the Houston Police Department’s Shifters Investigations Unit (SIU), lives for those rare moments he gets to spend around Lark, torturing himself with what he can’t have. Kin only by marriage, she thinks of him as her big brother. He couldn’t bear her pity—or her disgust—if she learned he wants her for his mate.

  When weres from a rival pack attack her, Lark screams out the first name that comes to mind—Taran. Only this sexy alpha can keep her safe until they find out who wants her dead, and why. But keeping her safe means keeping her close. And the closer they get, the harder it gets for these not-really-cousins to honor their commitment to keep their paws off.

  Warning: Contains a heroine with the world’s worst poker face, a hero with more honor than sense, and explicit shifter sex that makes you wish werewolves really were part of the gene pool.

  Enjoy the following excerpt for Kiss and Kin:

  Lark inspected her reflection in her antique full-length mirror. Applying final touches to her makeup, she pursed her lips and smudged her gloss just a bit. She pulled her auburn chestnut hair into a carefully messy chignon, touchable stray wisps framing her face the way Taran liked it.

  Dressed in a purple lace bra, boyshorts and four-inch stilettos, she struck a little pose. Which dress to wear?

  They both showed off her legs. The chic black cocktail number featured a fun little twirly skit, and she fancied herself a fun twirly kind of girl. On the other hand, she liked to look like a bad girl sometimes, which she did in the lavender sheath with the plunging neckline and the slit up to mid thigh.

  She held up each dress beneath her chin, one at a time, and eyed herself critically. Lavender, black. Lavender, black.

  She heard Taran getting ready in the bathroom, but when he suddenly appeared behind her—a werewolf could move so swiftly and silently it seemed he teleported—he wore nothing but skin. Taking a hanger in each hand, he tossed the dresses aside. He laid a large, warm hand on her stomach and pulled her tightly against him while his other hand cupped her breast. His thumb rubbed circles around her nipple through the thin lace.

  “What are you doing here?” he growled softly. His stubble tickled her neck as he nuzzled. It made her laugh.

  He rolled her nipple between two fingers and she sighed, reaching back to run her fingers through his dark gold hair. His other hand now cupped her mound, barely touching, and she ground her hips, silently urging him to press harder. He chuckled.

  “I’m trying to choose a dress,” she smiled. “Which do you like?”

  “Neither,” he replied. “I vote for naked.” He nipped her shoulder and slid his hand inside the boyshorts.

  Their gazes met in the mirror, the only way she could maintain eye contact with him. Lust glittered in his eyes, making them shine like emeralds. Her dark blue eyes melted in submission. In heels, she stood almost as tall as he did, but she looked petite against his much larger body.

  “I can’t go to dinner like this, and neither can you,” she murmured.

  “True.” He ran his tongue lightly down the back of her neck. “Anthony’s has a dress code. Reservations at eight, right?”

  “Yes.” She shivered.

  She gasped as his middle finger sank into her folds and stroked.

  “So…” he smiled against her neck, “…I’ve got ten minutes to make you come. I can do that with one arm tied behind your back.”

  He took his hand out of her panties, spun her around and pinned one of her arms behind her. She moaned in anticipation as his mouth came down on hers, and she woke up.

  Damn it. Shit. Damn, damn, damn, shit.

  Lark rolled over and slammed her head into the pillow.

  She couldn’t even manage a decent sex dream about him—she always woke up when it got to the good part. Her subconscious just rolled its eyes and said, “This is too farfetched for me to handle, kiddo. Dream about someone in your league—like George Clooney, maybe. He’ll ask you out before Taran notices you’re grown, much less shows any interest.”

  She showered, trying not to think about Taran as she did it.

  ***

  Detective Taran Lloyd yawned with boredom as he stood by the bar and observed the patrons of Le Monde on a typical Saturday night. A pricey club, it attracted an affluent crowd, and a mixed one: humans, werewolves and other shifters, people who looked a little more than a little fae. The only thing they had in common was a willingness to pay fi
ve bucks for a bottle of domestic beer and seven for well drinks—or the ability to find someone who would do it for them.

  He grimaced. He’d like a drink himself, but regulations prohibited drinking on duty.

  The intimate nightclub featured wood-paneled walls, polished hardwood floors and a lot of recessed lighting. Music loud enough to dance but not too loud to talk, waitresses pretty but not too sexy, bartenders fast but friendly—if not for the fact that three women reported missing this month were last seen here, it would’ve been a great place to bring a date.

  He tried to remember the last time he’d gone on a date.

  “Detective?” Daniel Denardo, the HPD Shifter Investigations Unit’s rookie, interrupted Taran’s musings.

  “Yeah, Danny?”

  “What are we supposed to look for here?”

  Taran smiled wryly. “If we get lucky, some guy will pick up a chick, throw her over his shoulder and run out, and we’ll arrest him. But I don’t think we’ll get lucky. So we hang around and watch, talk to people, ask if anyone saw the women, noticed unusual behavior, that sort of thing. I’d rather no one know we’re cops yet.”

  As soon as he said it, he noticed Lark across the room at a banquette with another woman and four slimy-looking wolves in suits. Taran automatically considered any guy with Lark slimy-looking. These wolves looked like Eurotrash. Eastern European wolves ran drugs and weapons in and out of the country, and SIU suspected they’d expanded into the sex trade. Rich European werewolves frequented Le Monde. Apparently Lark did, too.

  She sauntered toward the bar.

  “Shit,” he muttered.

  “What’s the matter?”

  “I’ll be back in a second. Why don’t you mingle.”

  “I can do that,” Denardo replied cheerfully.

  “What are you doing here?” he growled softly.