Dead Shifter Walking Read Free Page B

feebly I had time to indulge in that pleasure right now. I
quite simply didn’t, so I started a steamy shower instead.
    “Good God, Olivia,” Grams scolded, entering the
steaming bathroom, “will you at least turn on a fan?”
    Flipping the switch, she hurried out, mumbling
something about sweating asses.
    Sighing, I turn off my hot water reprieve, using
the plush towel to clear a spot on the mirror before drying off my
own body. I took stock of my image and didn’t like what I saw. My
usual waist-long strawberry blond hair had turned dishwater blond.
The hollowness in my cheeks and under my eyes were reminders of my
lack of sleep and regular meals, but it was the darkness in my eyes
that had me most concerned. My eyes had always been a particular
mix of blue and green, Grams used to call them sea eyes. Now I
wasn’t sure what color they were; darkness was all I saw.
    I pushed those emotions down into my core,
locking them away for another day, which I hoped would never
come.
    “Grams,” I called out through the open door,
“where’s my duffle bag?”
    “Being burned,” she replied, levelly shifting
papers.
    “That’s comical; what am I supposed to wear?” I
asked, knowing full well everything was being washed.
    Traveling from city to city, I never had much,
just what I could fit into an army duffle bag that had seen better
days, but the bag had been with me longer than anyone in my life.
I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t attached to it. I never felt like I
ever belonged, that I had a home, even now, but that bag kept me
centered, kept me whole in a way brick and mortar could never
do.
    “I have a few things laid out for you when you
decide to exit the sauna,” she replied.
    “Oh, you have got to be kidding me?” I stated,
eyeing her selections with distain. Her smile said she wasn’t.

Chapter 2

    The office was bathed in warm afternoon
sunlight, making me pull on the itchy wool jacket for the millionth
time as I sat in the plush chair in Grams's offices downtown and
wriggled in my seat, equally displeased with the pencil skirt she
had me wearing. Who wore wool anymore? Ugh! Grams did prove a
point, though, that I needed to go shopping. I shrugged and
wondered where in the world I would put my new outfits.
    We moved from the offices into the conference
room when too many people had decided to air their grievances.
Whether it was motivated by the rumor circulating about last night
or by the fact that I was back in town, I didn’t know or really
care.
    A young man sat at the other end of the mahogany
table. He might have been the eighth or ninth; I was losing track
as I ran my bare feet over the soft carpet. God, Grams had good
taste in everything! The conference room wasn’t sterile like all
those other trendy room seeking not to offend. Everything about it
bespoke elegance and grace, from the soft peach walls to the lined
bookshelves to the deep maroon carpet I was enjoying.
    “Thank you, Mr. Scott,” said Grams, dismissing
the man. “We will take your suggestions into account and let you
know if we are able to adapt them into our system.”
    Before Mr. Scott rose from his chair, the door
burst open, almost torn from its hinges. An incubus, wild with
blood-red eyes, was dragged in, fighting against two other incubi,
trying to reach a petite blonde human who was behind Mallory, a
vampire I knew well.
    I sprung from my seat, my earlier boredom and
bare feet forgotten.
    “Report,” I demanded, putting myself between the
riled incubus and Grams.
    Mallory reached behind her and pulled the petite
blonde farther into the room. “She,” Mallory started annoyed,
“accidently drew first blood.”
    “Fuck,” I whispered. First blood drawn by
another person for an incubus and succubus was a powerful amplifier
of whatever our current emotions were. All rational thought fled
and the need to destroy spread like wildfire.
    Luckily, training could diminish the urge and
redirect the power into our fighting