Shifters: A Samantha Reece Mystery Book 1 by Jaime Johnesee (libby ebook reader txt) 📕

the SUV we would be using. Chad, Josh, and Quinn lay on the seat and floor in the back. We needed Grisly to think I was coming in alone. I’d drive into the garage and, once the door was down, the guys could climb out and take their positions.

The drive to my house was gut-wrenchingly slow. What normally took a quick twenty minutes felt like hours. By the time I pulled into my driveway my nerves were taut and my senses were so heightened I could see, smell, and hear everything around me ten times better than I had been able to when I started out.

I waited for the garage door to open and I swept my gaze across my property and the rearview mirror. Nobody seemed to be around. I pulled forward into the garage and hit the button for the door to close behind me. The moment I heard the thump of it being completely closed the guys sat up and moved quietly out of the Ford Expedition. I followed suit and fumbled with my keys to unlock the door to the house.

The second I opened the door I could smell it; a wave of shifter scent, bear specifically, fell over me and I tried not to gasp or cough. Grisly was already here. I stopped everyone with a hand-signal, pointed to my nose, and held up a single finger to let them know I smelled one shifter.

I had expected he would already be here, but a large part of me was hoping he hadn’t showed up yet. It would’ve given us the element of surprise. The only thing I could hope for now was that he hadn’t scented any of the others. I kept them behind me as we went from room to room, silently clearing them while listening—and in my case smelling—for the psychotic ursine.

I was certain he would be in my bedroom. It seemed reasonable given he liked to shred his victims in bathtubs and my master suite had a big, beautiful clawfoot tub. As we silently entered my bedroom I took a big snort and found his scent was fainter in there. He hadn’t been in the room for some time. I cleared the closets, master bathroom, and under the bed first before we moved out of my room and toward the guestroom.

His scent was stronger here. Man, he was going to kill me in the cheesy basic old bathtub/shower combo? What a jerk. I’d at least have killed me in the clawfoot tub; it seemed a little classier. I guess when a soul wants to kill someone they’re not thinking what is classiest.

Before I reached the guestroom his scent grew extremely strong and I turned toward it too late as he leapt from my hall closet onto me. He dragged me up from the floor, holding me in front of him like a shield. I tried to kick him but he head-butted me and I saw stars for a moment.

He was in bear form and Grisly’s small but thick ursine skull slammed into my human one yet again, knocking me even further for a loop. I shifted quickly and his paws were unable to hold my feline shape. I slashed my right front claw across his left eye and grabbed hold of his nose with my teeth, then I brought my hind-feet up and started slashing at him. Those with cats at home will recognize the abdominal slashing madness that I’m referring to.

He yowled as my back claws found purchase in his gut and I wounded him. I bit down harder on his nose, only to be loosened when his paw pounded into the side of my face, twice. He jumped back and I did the same. We circled each other, my backup trying to get a lock on him and failing in the tight confines of the hall. I had to get Grisly somewhere open where they could shoot him.

I shouted, “Run to the living room!” at my team, then turned tail and ran, leading Grisly on a slippery chase through my house on my freshly polished hardwood floors.

I winced internally at the thought of the scratches our claws would leave in my beautiful and expensively redone floors. Repairing the damage would no doubt take me a whole week.

I watched as Josh and Chad set up atop bookshelves by the kitchen door. They’d have a good shot at Grisly with the tranq guns. I was just grateful they had moved fast enough to avoid being run over by us as we scrambled and slid our animal selves into the room.

As I ran into the center of the living room I turned, ready to face the bear. He wasn’t there.

“Fuck!” I yelled out. “Where’d he go? Anyone have eyes on him?”

“You cheated,” Grisly’s cold booming voice rang out.

“There were no rules. You’re in my territory, I can do whatever I need to in order to make you leave.”

“Oh, please, make me leave. I’d like to see that, you vile shifter whore.” I could hear his smile in the words.

“Pot calling kettle there, douchebag.”

“I am no whore!”

“Neither am I!” I had been listening closely as he spoke and put his position in the hall just a few feet outside the living room. I needed to get him in here so the guys could shoot him.

“You’re a woman. You’re inherently a whore.”

“Wow. Well, you’re a misogynistic piece of shit. Which inherently makes you a loser. I’m going to guess you didn’t get laid in high school or college. Take your cousin to the prom, did ya?”

“Shut your filthy whore mouth.”

“Is that the only insult you have? Seriously? You’re going to have to do far better than that, but I’m sure that’s probably something you’re used to hearing by now.”

Grisly roared and rushed into the room, bounding toward me at what seemed like a hundred miles per hour.

“Somebody shoot the fucker!” I yelled.

I tensed myself for the blow but he hit me much harder than I