Decision (Shifters Forever More Book 2) Read online

  “Something. I’m not sure.”

  Krisztián snapped his head toward Allegra who was looking right at him.

  “Where were you?” she asked him. “Because you didn’t hear a word I said.”

  “Sorry.” He gave her a smile. “I was in another world. What’d I miss?”

  “We were talking about the carved dragon.”

  The carved dragon, created by Griz, the spitting image of Allegra’s dragon, was a remarkable matter. Miraculous, really, considering Griz had started carving it when all of his memories of Allegra and his earlier life had been vanquished by sorcery.

  “What about it?” Krisztián asked.

  “We thought it had been…I’m not sure what the right word is for it, perhaps, inspired by Melina. We wondered if Melina was the reason it seems to have come to life,” Griz explained.

  The dragon appeared to have a heartbeat. It seemed to have come to life, Krisztián had witnessed that himself, but he had no answers. Sorcery was not in a bear shifter’s wheelhouse.

  “But now that Melina’s here, and we’ve taken her to see it, we know she had nothing to do with it.” Griz shrugged. “Nothing at all. But she did say she also sensed sorcery behind it.”

  Melina, Allegra’s maternal grandmother, had recently been relocated to Bear Canyon Valley and enjoyed her own quarters at Mae Forester’s B&B. As did all of the other dragon shifters and Draecenguard. To say the bed-and-breakfast was filled close to capacity with all the newcomers and other visitors who’d come to take part in the Crossroads and dragonstrike endeavor would be an understatement.

  Thankfully, all the new arrivals got along well.

  Krisztián looked from Allegra to Griz, then picked up his sandwich. Before taking a bite, he paused. “So, this carving is based on sorcery. I’d think that since it’s Allegra’s dragon, it would be someone who knows her?”

  Allegra shrugged. “But who?”

  Griz scrubbed his face. “It could be someone from before you came to live with Salvatore. Before you joined his group.”

  She shook her head, a puzzled expression of her face. “I can’t imagine who.”

  Krisztián wondered if he’d missed something during his mental meanderings. “What does this have to do with your cousin Ciara,” he asked Griz.

  Griz frowned. “Nothing. It’s on Allegra’s mind. Mine, too.”

  “Maybe Melina or Ilona can create some sort of witchy tracking spell to trace the source of the magic in the wood dragon?”

  Allegra’s eyes brightened. “Why didn’t we think of that?”

  Griz nodded. “Worth trying.”

  “So, back to your cousin…”

  “Yeah, well, when I called her to come help, well, she sounded…” Griz paused, scratched his jaw. “…off.”

  Krisztián gave him a look. “Can you define off?”

  Griz was silent for a few long minutes. His hard gaze settled on the green mountains, then finally, he turned his amber-highlighted dark eyes toward Krisztián. “She was guarded. Noncommittal. And her voice didn’t sound right.”

  “Didn’t sound right, like how?” Krisztián persisted.

  “Like she was hoarse. Or something. She was quick to get off the phone. There’s a problem. I can feel it. But when I suggested going to her place to check on her, she said absolutely not. Then ended the call.”

  “She’s a shifter, right? Bear, like you and I?” Krisztián asked.

  Griz shook his head. “Nope. She’s an intuitive. Though her paternal grandmother was a bear shifter.” Griz raised a brow, as though curious about something. “But her father wasn’t a shifter, though his mother was. Ciara’s mother was an intuitive.”

  “How was her father not a shifter?”

  “That’s a mystery to me. But I don’t like to pry.”

  “I see. So, you called, and she sounded weird and got off the phone quickly.”

  “Right. And I don’t want to be a pest by dropping in after she said she didn’t want me to.”

  “Maybe she had company. You know, a gentleman caller, or something.” Krisztián waggled his eyebrows.

  “You don’t know Ciara.”

  Krisztián refrained from rolling his eyes. Probably an old spinster woman. “So, go anyway.” He couldn’t understand why that would keep Griz away. Others, sure, they’d be timid, but Griz had never been the timid type.

  “It’s disrespectful. I wouldn’t want someone doing that to me.”

  “So, it’s not disrespectful to send me to go check on her?”

  Griz glanced away, guilt playing on his features. “It’s a gray area.”

  Krisztián chuckled and looked at Allegra. “He hasn’t changed. After all these years, he hasn’t changed.”

  She laughed softly, her hand on Griz’s forearm. “I’m so thankful he hasn’t.” She leaned her head on his shoulder but kept her eyes on Krisztián. “Will you go? It’s troubling him. He’s not sleeping well at night.”

  “How can I say no?”

  Chapter Five

  Ciara had become an ordinary human. No skills. No intuitive abilities whatsoever.

  The loss lasted two days.

  Then this morning.

  Jeez, this morning she was brought straight out of sleep with a piercing pain that stretched out over her entire body’s nerve endings.

  She stumbled out of bed and made her way to the bathroom, each step agonizing. She needed to brush her teeth and wash her face. A painful process because of her condition—whatever condition that was—but it had to be done.

  She turned the water on, looked up into the mirror, and let out a scream.

  Her arms! Tattoos that hadn’t been there when she went to bed now garnished her forearms. Akin to tribal tattoos, they began on her wrist and climbed up her arms to her shoulders. The black ink appeared fresh, though there was none of the usual swelling or redness fresh tattoos were known to bear.

  Ciara turned the water off as the steam had started to fog up the mirror and she wanted a better view at this new development.

  Horrifying development.

  Particularly horrifying because she knew more about tattoos and their supernatural powers than the average person might. One of her intuitive skills, a skill she was highly trained in, was tattooing. Not just any old tattoos, ones that sealed in magical components, ingredients, and enchantments. She’d done several, one of which had been on MacKenzie Clarity—Mac to anyone who knew her—when she’d wanted to remove the couple-bond she had with bear shifter Lance del Cruz.

  She pulled herself from her mental meanderings and back to the ever-so-painful present she was mired in. She studied the markings. They had no specific meaning that she knew of, but she was certain the designs meant something. Except, who would know the answer to that? And was there anyone she wanted to show them to anyway? Not really, not with the current situation she was in, what with the pain and her missing intuitive skills.

  Taking slow, measured steps, she made her way to the breakfast bar and leaned against a stool. She had no idea what to do about the tattoos. But she felt certain the answers to her missing intuitive skills and this weird, agonizing pain she was dealing with would be in the tattoos. Identifying them could hold answers. But who could she turn to for help? Who would know?

  She raised her hand to trace the tattoos and flinched at the sight before her.

  On the tips of her fingers, where her nails had been, there were talons, not fingernails. She yelped and jumped back at the almost-black nails that were two inches long.

  “What the hell?” She tried to say the words, but they came out garbled and gravely. She lifted her hand to her mouth, only to feel something…strange.

  Ignoring the searing agony, she sprinted toward the bathroom to figure out what was happening. What she’d felt in her mouth.

  Ciara stormed into the bathroom, leaned against the counter, and looked in the mirror.

  She bared her teeth and immediately clamped her mouth shut. She flinched. Her lips did
n’t quite pull closed. Not exactly. Not quite. Not like they should have. She opened her mouth. Drops of blood pooled in her mouth where her teeth—fangs!—had pierced her bottom lip.

  She ran a talon-tipped fingertip over her newly formed fangs. Two on each side of her mouth. Like vampire fangs. But not really. More like the fangs she’d find on a predator.

  Wide-eyed, she studied herself in the mirror.

  And then there was a knock at the door.

  Chapter Six

  Krisztián knocked on the door of a decrepit old cabin in the middle of nowhere—okay, in the middle of a clearing—on the outskirts of a forest. Pretty much in the middle of nowhere, as far as he was concerned.

  No reply.

  He knocked again.

  He knew someone was home. He’d heard a squeal. And this was the location Griz had put in the GPS. And Griz had said Ciara lived alone. So, that little yelp had to have been her. But it didn’t sound like…

  No, he couldn’t have said it sounded like she was under duress. Well, maybe. A little.

  He knocked once more.

  Still, no reply.

  He huffed and tried the door. Locked. Of course, it would be locked, wouldn’t it? It wouldn’t make sense for a woman who lived alone—he glanced around—in an isolated area, not to lock her door.

  Yet, he couldn’t just walk away. First of all, he owed it to Griz to see this through and check on his cousin. Second, the small cry he’d heard couldn’t be ignored.

  No. It couldn’t.

  With that final thought, he summoned his bear shifter strength and rammed his shoulder into the door. The wood splintered, giving in to the brutal power behind his animal’s muscle.

  Krisztián stepped into a hallway and surveyed the area, scanning for Griz’s cousin Ciara, who was more than likely the source of the squeal he’d heard. Not one to jump in without knowing what he was getting into, he assessed his surroundings. It wasn’t much more than a one-room cottage, with a living area and kitchen area in an open floorplan. Across from him a short hallway seemed to lead to a bedroom. A door cattycorner to the bedroom would have to be the bathroom. And, for all that the outside of her cottage looked primeval—dilapidated, even—the inside seemed to have the latest in furniture, accessories, and technology.

  He flattened himself against the wall, keeping a low profile while he assessed the situation. The space was empty. Which meant that whoever—Ciara?—made the sound was probably in the bedroom or the bathroom.

  Surely, his entrance had been noticed? Standing still, he focused his energy on his supernatural shifter hearing, trying to pick up a sound. Specifically, a heartbeat.

  There it was! The sound of a single heart, beating fast. Way faster than an individual’s heart would beat at rest.

  That had to be Ciara. Of course, it was. What if she thought he was a criminal with ill intentions? What if she came out, guns blazing, and took a shot at him? That was the last thing he needed. What he should do was let her know he wasn’t a stranger with malicious purposes.

  “Ciara?” He kept his voice low and non-threatening.

  Nothing.

  “Ciara?” This time a little louder.

  A figure stepped out of the doorway to what he was certain was a bathroom. He stared at the being, taking in what his eyes beheld in disbelief.

  A woman, in a long dress and bare feet. Her hair so light a blonde as to appear translucent, her eyes a blue color also light, making them almost vanish in the whites of her eyes. She was stunning. Beautiful in a way he’d never seen beauty before. Tattoos garnished her arms, starting just above her wrists and extending up her arms to the shoulder strap of her sleeveless flowing dress.

  Her beauty, her unusually striking looks, her tattoos, these were not what made his brow rise. No, it was the talons where her fingernails should have been. Those razor-sharp tips. Krisztián was well familiar with those claws. He had his own set of them when he shifted into his bear. She couldn’t be a bear shifter. Griz had said she wasn’t. She was an intuitive. But those claws…

  The woman remained silent, staring at him with those eerie eyes of hers. There was something in their depths. He couldn’t place it for certain. Fear? Pain? Anguish?

  “Ciara. I’m Krisztián.”

  His bear reacted to the woman. And to something else. What else? He couldn’t have said. But whatever it was, his bear was roaring in his mind, insisting on making its presence known. Clearly wanting to—

  To what? He wasn’t sure. He wasn’t sure about any of this.

  Her gaze remained locked on him. Her lips unmoving as she took in his measure. Still, she said nothing, though her posture indicated she was in fight or flight.

  For both their sake, Krisztián hoped it was neither. He had no interest in fighting a woman, especially one that was cousin to his best friend. And he was tired from the long drive and not particularly interested in chasing her down.

  Before he could complete his thought process, she launched herself in his direction, talons extended, lips bared. Shock registered the second she bared her fangs. Not vampire fangs, he noted. More like a predator’s set of canines. It wasn’t an unfamiliar sight. It reminded him of what his own teeth did when he shifted into his bear, but she—

  Ciara—it had to be her based on Griz’s description of her long almost-white hair—rammed into him, her shoulder catching him off-guard. For a reason he couldn’t have anticipated, the thought that she would actually have slowed down, not truly ran into him didn’t occur to him.

  They went flying back into the door he’d just entered. She was far stronger than he’d anticipated. Snarls far from human came from this she-beast.

  “Cia—”

  Her claws slashed across his face, cutting off his entreaties for her to listen to reason.

  She raised her other hand, talons at the ready, aiming for his throat.

  The onslaught was too much for his bear to be expected to remain passive for. Krisztián typically had a handle on his bear and shifting into his animal, but the bear’s instinct for self-preservation was kicking in and it was stronger than Krisztián’s will. The transformation began, whether he was ready for it or not.

  His bones lengthened, painfully, the sound of popping and crunching barely audible over the she-beast’s snarls. Sinew stretched, muscle packed on, fur sprouted, and, seconds later, he was in his bear, a massive brown bear, more than a thousand pounds, filling up the room.

  He shook his massive bear frame then rose onto his hind feet, his ears against the ceiling, then dropped to all fours, raised his head and roared. He shouldered her, showing her how easily she could be overtaken.

  The she-beast stepped back, assessing the situation she now found herself in.

  Krisztián took a chance. The only one he thought he had because, in his human form, her strength might have been enough to kill him, so he had to stay in bear form, and yet he had to communicate with her. There was only one way he could do this. Sync.

  Syncing was a form of communication between shifters that allowed them to establish a link and speak silently in their minds. Hopefully, she would figure this out and talk to him because he was certain she wasn’t going to end her campaign to attack, and he was more than certain his bear could kill her. It wasn’t like she had morphed into an animal. She was a half-beast, half-human entity which was stronger than a man, but not as strong as a full grown massive brown bear well-skilled in the art of fighting, thanks to Salvatore’s efforts and training.

  She bared her teeth and raised her razor-tipped hands, ready to take him on again.

  He had to act now.

  “Ciara.”

  She faltered. Her eyes widened, confusion played on her face. Clearly, she was unsure where the voice had come from, since they were the only two.

  Mission accomplished; she’d stopped attacking. Now to get her to communicate.

  “Ciara. I know you heard me.” Now to get her to trust him. “Griz sent me.”

  A flicker of
acknowledgment crossed her face.

  Chapter Seven

  Ciara stared at the massive bear before her. A bear that was now talking to her in her mind. How the hell was it doing that?

  She opened her mouth to ask him that and many more questions, but only snarling came out. She’d lost her ability to speak. She had an idea of what was happening to her. It was something that shouldn’t be. She realized she was shifting into an animal and, knowing her grandmother was a bear shifter, felt certain whatever was happening to her was bear-related.

  “Ciara.” The bear before her said again, the sound reverberating in her mind.

  How did he do that? She opened her mouth to ask him, and the only thing that came out was a series of growls. Tears of fury welled at her inability to communicate with him. To ask what was happening to her.

  “Slow down,” the bear said in her mind. “You can talk to me.”

  She paused, staring at the large brown bear that regarded her with dark eyes with ember flames in their depths.

  “I mean it,” his voice said softly in her mind.

  She pondered that voice. Smooth, deep, kind, and with a measure of sincerity. A lot of sincerity. She cocked her head and regarded him, wondering how they could talk.

  “Trust me. You can do this, too.”

  She shrugged and spread her hands wide—then noticed her talons, dripping with his blood—and put her hands behind her back swiftly, unwilling to gaze upon what she’d done.

  The bear’s muzzle gleamed with the darkness of blood he’s shed. Blood she’d caused. She averted her gaze, concentrating on his eyes, instead.

  “Listen.” The bear stepped closer. “You can do this, too; you can speak to me in my mind. It’s a thing shifters do.”

  She startled at being called a shifter.