Trevor slows the bike as we take the exit and the smooth asphalt of the highway becomes a bumpy gravel road. Trees line both sides of our path giving an ominous vibe. I shiver despite the warm weather and the heat radiating off my date.
Coming slowly to a stop, Trevor pulls up in front of a beat-up looking shed and dismounts. He offers me his hand to help me off the bike. Bryan pulls in next to us and I look around warily.
“Uh, nice place you guys have here... very serial killer chic!” I joke, moving to stand closer to both of them in case something weird jumps out of the bushes. Considering I was supposedly brought here by Fate and am in the current company of marine manimals... it’s a legitimate concern.
They each grab one of my hands and pull me down the path. I can hear the ocean crashing on rocks nearby. Not creepy at all.
The faint sounds of music float by on the breeze, piquing my curiosity further. We stumble through the stand of trees and emerge in a clearing. A ramshackle old lighthouse is in front of us, and I realize that it’s a makeshift roadhouse/bar.
“Welcome to The Hydra!” Bryan grins.
The music gets louder as we approach. Outside on a torchlit patio space, groups of people are bunched up, laughing and drinking out of red cups and swaying to the music. In the far corner of the property, a bonfire is raging and couples are cozied up on rocks and logs and deep into shadows.
“This is awesome!” I enthuse, trying to take it all in. There’s a woman in booty shorts and a tight tank top who has a fox tail that swishes behind her as she dances. If this had been happening at a club back home I would have assumed she was into cosplay, or that she was a furry or something... but here? For all I know it could be her actual tail.
“She’s were-hunting,” Trevor whispers in my ear, following my gaze,”She’s what you might call a ‘groupie.’ Most shifters can’t turn folks, but a few of the ancients can. It doesn’t matter that no one has been turned in about a century, there’s always a few humans that try to convince them otherwise.”
I eye the woman with renewed interest.
“So, she’s basically looking for her own pod? Without a Matestone?”
Bryan and Trevor nod. I see the woman notice them, she’d have to be blind not to, and her eyes slide to me. They are shrewd and calculating. From the look of her feral smile and the sway of her hips when she comes over with her tray, she does not view me as competition. Big mistake, sugar tits.
She reaches Trevor first and runs her hand up his arm and bats those long, fake-ass eyelashes at him. Something primal, deep in my chest, wants me to scratch her eyes out. Mine. She’s touching what is Mine!
“Hello, gentlemen. My name is Candy. What would you like to taste tonight?” she practically purrs, moving her hand from Trevor to Bryan.
To their credit, they don’t even acknowledge her. They are too busy scanning the area for people they know, or possibly a free shadow to do lovely, naughty things to me. I can’t tell. Either would be fine with me, but I’m not-so-secretly hoping that there’s a shadow or two in my future.
I glare pointedly at her hand which is still resting on Bryan’s arm. She just gives me a fake little smile and pushes her tits out a little further. Oh, hell no.
Narrowing my eyes at her, I turn to my guys and slide my hands into theirs. They look down and grin at me.
“Having fun, honey?” Bryan asks, completely ignoring Ms. Sugar Tits.
I pucker my lips at him and he laughs, swooping down to kiss me. His elbow knocks into Groupie McTitty in his haste.
“Hey now, I want some of that too!” Trevor protests, pulling me out of Bryan’s embrace and into his and peppering my face with exaggerated kisses.
By the time they are done goofing off, the waitress is standing a few steps back with a look of disgust on her face.
I raise an eyebrow at her and pull the Matestone out of my cleavage.
The chatter around us quiets and she stares at me with a comical mix of horror and disbelief. Several shifter couples edge closer. I don’t know if they’re just curious, or if they’re drawn to the magic, but the stone seems to bloom under the stars. It’s glowing a beautiful aquamarine color that almost matches my highlights.
I step forward and put one arm around Trevor’s waist and grasp Bryan’s hand, winding my fingers through his.
“Your hands don’t belong on my mates, I mean, dates,” I say sweetly, batting my own, 100% real eyelashes at her.
On the outside, I may be the image of confidence, but inside I’m cringing. I basically just claimed them and then took it back in the space of one sentence. I don’t need to be a shifter expert to know that saying the M-word while wearing this stupid necklace and in front of other shifters is a big fucking deal.
That would be easier to remember if I didn’t feel all warm and fuzzy about it too.
The second that m-word left my mouth, the tension between Bryan, Trevor, and me changed. I refuse to make eye contact with either of them, and instead lead us all towards a shadowy corner with a bistro table right next to the lighthouse tower.
The guys are pulsing with energy, and sure enough, as soon as we are out of earshot and eyeline of the small crowd, I find myself smack dab in
