Southern Shifters: Werelock (Kindle Worlds Novella) Read Free

to round a fallen tree. Struck by lightning years ago, it was hollow and long. Still half buried in the earth, the only entry point was a small split in the trunk where the lightning ripped through to the heart, burning it from inside out.
    Heart in her throat, she twisted and dropped to the ground to slide, feet first toward the gap like she’d done it every day of her life. The darkness of the trunk surrounded her and she surrendered herself to the change, fire arcing through her as fur raced over her skin. Bone snapped and cracked, forcing her body into contortions as they morphed and slid into different configurations. She closed her eyes as her face changed. Teeth aching, her jaw reshaped, pushing into a muzzle as she panted.
    Then it was done, her body reformed into the shape of her lioness. She waited in the dark, eyes fixed on the light spilling through the opening in the trunk just ahead of her.
    Her paws flexed, heavy talons biting into the dry wood beneath.
    Let him try to get her out now.
    She’d show him what a pissed-off cat was capable of.

Chapter Two
     
    Renae Brogan was beautiful.
    Hale hadn’t gotten more than a glimpse of short, golden-brown hair around delicate features as she stole glances over her shoulder, but he knew she was more beautiful than the photo suggested. There was a haunting fragility about her that called to everything male within him.
    She was also a puzzle. He followed her at an easy lope, keeping his distance to study her. Shifters were notoriously difficult to trap, a fact he’d learned many years ago. The wolf shifter he’d thought he was tracking had turned out to be a bear shifter—which were rarer than rocking horse shit—and had clawed him up pretty bad before escaping. He’d lost on that job, and gained deep scars across his back to warn him to look before he leaped.
    Which was why he studied Renae as he ran. She hadn’t shifted, which intrigued him. Brogan had said she was a lioness, a full member of the pride, and lionesses were fast as hell. Shifted, she could easily outrun him. Unless he used his magic, of course, but he always kept that in reserve until he needed it.
    He kept himself in top physical condition. He’d seen too many warlocks let themselves go, only to be screwed when a spell went badly and they needed to fight their way out. Thankfully, he’d never needed to, but if he did, he could throw down with the biggest shifters. Demons might be a little harder to handle, but he’d give it a go. People always told him he had a death wish.
    Right now, he had one wish. To get a better look at the woman he chased. An interest that had nothing to do with the bounty money filled him. She was small and packed with curves he wasn’t used to seeing on a shifter. Usually they were lean and lithe… and left him totally uninterested. He didn’t do stick insects. Especially when they could rip his face off on a whim.
    Renae Brogan? Fuck, he’d do her all night long and still come back for more…
    She changed direction and he realized something that had been niggling at the back of his mind. She had a limp. Very slight, but she favored her right side. Crap, what damage would a shifter need to take to cause a lasting weakness like that?
    The wind shifted, bringing her scent to him and he breathed deeply. The scent of her panic and fear almost froze him mid-run. Hale’s eyes narrowed. He was used to his quarry being scared, but there was usually a healthy dose of anger and frustration in the mix as well. Not here. Renae just smelled terrified. Completely, utterly terrified and so close to shifting it made his teeth ache.
    Shift, he silently urged her. For the first time ever he seriously considered letting a mark escape. He would go back to Brogan and tell him his ex-wife had bought it in a car accident—there were a few spells he could use…
    Still running, he brought himself up sharp mentally. What the fuck was he thinking? She was a job, nothing more, nothing