A Shifter's Curse by Raven Steele (books to read fiction .txt) 📕

He shouldn't be in this place. It was a dick move for a vampire. Everyone knew only shifters hung out at Sinsual, a human dance club. But here the bastard was slipping in and out of the crowd like a shark in a tank full of bottom-feeders. I wouldn't call them that, but it was evident by the vampire's face he sure did. He wore disgust and disdain like a bad Halloween mask. He hated being among shifters just as bad as I hated looking at him. Not that he was bad looking, mind you. With a sharp jaw, roman nose, and big grey eyes, he had the kind of face artists would piss themselves to paint.

"Are you drinking tonight?" a man behind the bar asked for the third time. He had an earring in his eyebrow and a tattoo of a target on his throat. A perfectly round circle plastered on his ridiculously long neck.

"I've been wanting to order all night, but I was waiting for you to stop staring at my tits."

His face reddened, and I snickered. Yeah, I caught you eyeing me, you little pervert. It's not like I was wearing anything super revealing either. Sure, it was tight, but my black tank top came up high enough to cover my ample cleavage line. Thanks for those genes, Grandma Angelica.

"If you're finished, I'll order," I said.

He sighed heavily. "Sorry."

I tried not to show my surprise. "That's more like it, Peeper."

"My name's Mike."

"Not tonight, Peeper. You got to earn my respect now. What's a good Louisiana drink?"

"A Sazerac."

"Then make me one of those."

He mumbled something under his breath that sounded like "rude prude". Normally I'd call him out on something like that, but getting into a fight this soon after breezing into town would prevent me from doing two things. One, securing a job because, obviously, money is good, and two, finding a place to live. I needed these things if I was going to find the last two most important people on my list, the same list I always kept right next to my ass. Because until I could watch the life drain from their cold, heartless eyes, sitting on them would have to do.

I played with the ring on my middle finger while I waited for Peeper to make my drink, fumbling with the stupid glass like his fingers were all thumbs. Since I was new to Rouen, I wasn't as familiar with this drink, but I could tell that he was adding too much bitters and not enough whiskey. This was going to be too easy.

"Are you Briar?" a bubbly voice shouted behind me, trying to get my attention over the club noise.

I whirled around on the stool. A gal with red hair and a splash of freckles on her nose stared at me expectantly. I eyed her up and down. She looked a couple of years younger than me, maybe twenty-two. "You must be Lynx."

She was skinny. So skinny her clothes hung on her as if she were a coat rack. Yet the way they matched, greens on top, darks on bottom, I wondered if the baggy look was deliberate. Fashion was something I knew nothing about. It was right up there with cooking and sewing.

Smiling, she extended her hand. "That's me. Thanks for coming."

I shook her hand, surprised by the strength in her grip. Maybe she wasn't as fragile as she looked.

She scooted onto a stool next to me. "So you're looking for a place to live?"

"Yup. A month-to-month situation. I'm not sure how long I'll be staying in Rouen." It could even be a couple of weeks, but I wasn't going to tell her that. If I didn't catch a whiff of the men I was looking for, I'd move on.

"How come?"

Peeper slid my Sazerac in a small glass to me, smirking. "On the house."

"That's sweet of you." I winked at him and wrapped my lips around the straw and sucked, then almost spit it out on the counter. Too sweet. I forced the liquid down my throat. Did he know anything at all about making drinks? Better be sure. "How about you make something for my new friend Lynx?"

"I'm not drinking," she said a little too quickly.

I glanced at her from the corner of my eye, taking in her demeanor. People that didn't drink made me nervous, especially if they were in a bar. Usually, it meant they were hiding something. Or they were a recovering alcoholic or a Mormon. Lynx didn't look like either, which meant this chick had secrets. I had my own, but it took a lot of alcohol for me to admit even the name of my home town. No one needed to know my past.

"But I will have a soda, diet. With lemon."

Peeper mumbled another string of words. He probably thought he was having a bad night, but it was only going to get worse when I took his job in a few minutes.

I turned back to Lynx to answer her question about not staying in Rouen, twisting the ring on my finger again. "I don't like to stay in any place for too long. I get bored easily."

She laughed. "I don't think you'll get bored in Rouen. Plus, my house is pretty amazing. I inherited it from my grandma. It was built in the late 1700s and has all these cool secret rooms and passageways. The room I'm renting out is super huge and has its own bathroom. Did you see the pictures online?"

I took another sip of the disgusting drink. "I did. That's why I called you. I need my own bathroom."

Pinpricks raced up my spine, tingling my wolfie senses. I glanced to my left, spotting another vampire. A woman this time, dressed all in black. I swear, sometimes vampires take their roles way too seriously.

That makes two vampires in a known-shifter hangout. Something was up.

"The room is all yours." Lynx accepted her diet soda from Peeper, thanking him with a smile. Her eyes sparkled. I cursed under my breath. Just my luck, I'd get the bubbly roommate. She pulled out a few dollars and left it on the counter then turned back to me.

"I mean, you look decent enough. You are wearing True Religion clothing after all, so high marks in my book."

"Am I?" I reached behind me and tore the tag off the back of my tank top. Lynx gasped in horror. I stared down at the tag. "Sure as shit."

Her widened eyes were practically tearing. "I can't believe you just did that."

I casually glanced toward the female vampire again, noting she was wearing glasses, something a vampire would have no need of. She edged toward us, and I had a sneaking suspicion she was listening to us with her super-human hearing.

I subconsciously tugged on my ridiculously thick brown hair. I didn't like anyone listening in on my conversations.

"Right, well." Lynx shuffled uncomfortably. "So you're not into fashion. No biggie. I still need a roommate and the house is huge, like seven bedrooms. You'll have your space. In fact, you'll barely know I'm there with my work schedule."

"You're speaking my language, chica." I liked the idea of having a place mostly to myself. People freaked me out with their constant need to talk and their obsessive need to belong. It wasn't me.

The bartender attempted his next mixed drink, and I cringed as he did it all wrong. It took all my willpower not to jump over the counter and yank the glass right out of his clumsy hands. Just as I decided to do that, another prickly sensation alerted my wolf.

I turned around as the female vampire slid onto the barstool next to me. Power radiated off her in waves and pressured the air around us with static electricity. Without a doubt, she could break my neck in a second if I wasn’t careful.

My own shifter powers emerged and a soft, but threatening, growl emitted from my throat. A not so subtle warning that I wasn't without my own power and skill. I'd done some neck breaking in my days too.

But the vampire only flicked her electric-blue eyes at me behind her thin glasses, then leaned forward to get Lynx's attention. It was an obvious dismissal of my warning and pissed me the hell off.

"I hear you are looking for a roommate?" she asked Lynx.

The hairs on the back of my neck heckled. What the? Why was this dead chick pissing on my territory?

Lynx's eyebrows rose, and she smiled nervously. "Um, well—"

I didn't wait for Lynx to finish. "Listen, goth girl. She's looking for one roommate. Me. So go find someone else to mooch off."

She stared down her nose at me. "If you're referencing to living off someone else then believe me, I am no mooch. However, I assert myself when necessary." Her eyes narrowed at me. "And I haven't been called a 'girl' in a long time."

“That’s what you’re calling me out on?”

Her gaze flickered back to Lynx. "I'm Samira, and I need a place to live for a few months. Your home sounds perfect." Her face was serious, but she forced her lips up in a smile. If she was going for reassuring, she was failing miserably. "I need a place to sleep."

"How did you hear—"

"I'll pay