Shadow Effect - 1. Chapter 1

Elijah let the air out of his lungs in a long whoosh.

He fastened his seatbelt, depressed the brake, and pushed the button to start the SUV Sebastian gave him to drive back to California. The imposing wolf shifter and Alpha insisted the vehicle was now his, that he had earned it.

Adjusting the rear view mirror, he saw his friends standing on the front porch of the big ‘McDen’, as Ben referred to it, waving goodbye as he drove down the long driveway. He was going to miss his new friends, especially Zev and Ben. Being close in age, they clicked, easily forging a deep friendship bond. The mated pair made him promise to keep in touch, something that made him happy just thinking about it.

Stopping at the end of the long access road, he pulled up his favorite playlist and let the first song’s melody flow through the speakers before turning left. He had already programmed the GPS, deliberately choosing the longer way home. The shorter route would have taken him through northern Idaho, a place he was happy to never have to see again.

The new route still had him going through part of the state, but much further south. He planned on stopping in Twin Falls for the night, before cutting through Nevada tomorrow morning. Barring any shitty traffic, he should be strolling through his parent’s front door in time for supper.

As willing as he’d been to help his new friends, the past several weeks were incredibly stressful. He was happy to be going home, where everything was familiar and safe. He'd never been gone so long before, and he missed the familiar mundaneness that was his life.

The miles rolled past, scenery changing occasionally as he drove in a southwesterly direction. He made several stops to stretch his legs, use the restroom facilities, and get food when he was hungry. After being around so many people recently, the solitude was refreshing.

It took him nearly eleven hours to reach Twin Falls, and he easily found the Holiday Inn Express he had a reservation for. Glad to be out of the vehicle, comfortable as it was, he stretched and headed inside to check in. Once at the front desk, he discovered someone had already paid for the room. Yet another one of Sebastian’s acts of generosity, he was sure.

After checking in with his folks and assuring them he was fine driving by himself, he went to sleep early, knowing that he still had another thirteen hours of driving ahead of him. He wanted to get an early start and planned to head out no later than four o'clock in the morning.

The next day he got a later start than what he wanted. He mistakenly set his alarm for five instead of four. As he drove across the Idaho-Nevada border, with the monotony of driving alone catching up to him, he debated making another overnight stop. In the end, the pull of home, seeing Mom and Dad, ultimately tipped the scales in favor of driving straight through, and the miles rolled by, aided by additional playlists.

Not long after crossing over into California, an incoming call interrupted the music. Caller ID announced it was his next-door neighbor.

Elijah tapped the connect icon. “Hey Sean!”

“Hey Elijah,” Sean’s voice was tight, immediately sending a shiver of foreboding through him.

“What’s wrong?”

“Are you driving?”

No sooner than the words were out of Sean’s mouth, he pulled over to the shoulder. Traffic was light and no other cars were around.

“I just pulled over, what happened?” he asked, expecting to be told his parents had been in a car accident and were at the hospital. His Dad could be impatient, especially when he was behind the wheel and had already had a few close calls.

“There’s no easy way to say this, and I’m so sorry Elijah,” Sean said, his voice thick with regret of the words to come. “Your parents were murdered last night.”

All of a sudden there was no air in the SUV. Elijah grappled with the door handle, fingers fumbling with the lever, until it popped open like a can of biscuits and he tumbled out. His heart raced, his lungs heaving as he tried desperately to draw in air.

His head buzzed, unable to process what he had just been told.

No.

Just no.

His parents couldn’t be dead. He spoke to them last night. Before hanging up, Mom promised to make lasagna with homemade meat sauce for him. It was his favorite.

“Elijah? Elijah? Are you there? ELIJAH!?!”

Sean’s raised voice through the phone got his attention. He picked it up from the seat where he’d dropped it absentmindedly.

“I’m here.”

“I’m so sorry,” he reiterated. “The police are still there and the detective in charge asked me to call you. I wouldn’t give her your number without your permission.

“Of course,” Elijah replied woodenly. “Um, yeah, it’s okay to give her my number.”

“Where are you? I talked to your dad yesterday and he mentioned you were on your way home?”

Elijah looked around, but there were no signs to indicate where he might be. “I think I just crossed over the state line. I don’t think I’ve passed Honey Lake yet. I know I passed Reno not that long ago.”

“Okay, you drive carefully. If you need anything when you get here, don’t hesitate to call,” Sean offered.

Elijah must have replied, because the connection ended.

What. The. Almighty. Fuck?

Murdered. Sean said his parents had been murdered. Who the hell would want to kill them? His parents led what had to be one of the most dull, humdrum, parent lives ever. His mom taught high school math for fuck’s sake. How dangerous could that be? Death by division didn’t seem very likely. His dad was just as boring. He was an insurance adjuster. His biggest problem was the mountain of paperwork he dealt with on a daily basis. Elijah couldn’t see a connection between insurance and integers.

Sliding behind the wheel again, he closed the door and buckled up. The engine was still running. He checked over his shoulder before pulling out onto the road. He normally drove a few miles per hour over the speed limit, but urgency pushed him to the edge of recklessness. He wasn’t in the running for the Daytona 500, but he was sure no decent cop would let him off the hook.

He decreased the pressure on the accelerator, slowing his speed by a few mph. Better, but still a ticketable offense. A couple of miles up the road he saw a sign for Honey Lake, which meant if he pushed it, he could be home in less than five hours. He pushed it, his mind racing the entire time, driving on auto-pilot, letting the miles roll by without registering.

His phone rang. The number wasn’t familiar. Knowing it was most likely the detective, he answered.

The caller introduced herself as Detective Michelle Broussard from the State Police. She told him the same thing Sean had, but had a few more details, such as it was a postal worker who noticed the front door had been forced open. He called 911 and the responding sheriff's deputies found his parents.

Detective Broussard asked a few general questions regarding where Elijah had been. He agreed to come down to the precinct to meet with her the following day to get more information.

Not long after he ended the call with the detective, his phone rang again. Glancing quickly, he saw that it was one of his co-workers from the diner. Elijah sighed. He knew that word must have gotten out. It was a small town after all. He ignored it. A moment later he heard the beep of an incoming message.

Over the course of the next couple of hours, his phone rang or chimed a couple dozen times. He just couldn’t cope with questions right now. Not when he had so many of his own.

It wasn’t until he was almost home that he realized he couldn’t actually go home. It was a crime scene. Fuck.

He pulled off at the next gas station and scrolled through the text messages that he’d ignored. He saw more than a few from his best friend Tyler. Shit. The guy had nearly blown up his phone. Guilt flooded him as he typed.

Hey, can I stay with you for a few nights?

Within seconds, three dots jumped along the message box.

Of course. When u here?

Twenty minutes?

K.

Elijah sighed in relief. Out of everyone he knew, Tyler was the one who wouldn’t press him for information he didn’t have. They'd been best friends since kindergarten. He was the only one, other than his parents, who knew Elijah could shapeshift. They spent a good part of their teenage years using that to their full advantage. It was easy to purchase alcohol when you were a forty-year-old tourist.

He once posed as Tyler for four days so he could go camping with his girlfriend for a long weekend. By camping he meant fuck like bunnies. The only reason they could pull it off was because they knew each other so well. Tyler's mom was not an easy one to pull the wool over her eyes.

He trusted Tyler like no one else. Plus, Tyler’s mom always made sure he had plenty of plastic containers of food stockpiled. She was a good cook and Elijah was hungry, despite his stomach being in knots. He hadn't eaten much since a quick drive-thru breakfast early this morning.

Driving into town, he glanced right as he passed the turn he normally took to get home, even though he couldn't see his house from here. Tyler didn’t live far from him, only a few streets over in a townhouse apartment complex. He was glad it was late and the diner was closed when he drove by.

He parked next to a blue Jeep and grabbed his bag from the back. The door was unlocked and Tyler was watching TV when Elijah stepped into the living room and dropped his bag on the floor.

Wordlessly, his best friend got up and immediately enfolded Elijah into his arms.

Elijah broke.

The dam burst and tears flowed freely, the emotional turmoil of the past several hours spilling over the causeway.

Tyler held him tight, adding tears of his own. Elijah’s parents had always treated Tyler like another son.

When the crying bout subsided, Tyler pulled back. “I’m so sorry E. I can’t believe it. Have you heard from the police or anyone?”

Elijah sniffed and dragged his arm across his nose, wiping the snot on his sleeve. He didn’t care. It wasn’t like his mom could chastise him for it anymore. The thought nearly caused the waterworks to start up again.

He took a deep breath, and let it out shakily.

“I spoke briefly with Detective Broussard. I’m meeting with her tomorrow morning to get some more information. Will you come with me?”

“You know I will. Let’s get you something to eat. Mama dropped off chicken enchiladas. You want some? If you say no, I’m supposed to call her. Don’t make me do that. She’s beside herself already. I can’t handle that woman when she’s all riled up.”

Elijah managed a short snort. Mrs. Williamson was a petite half-Mexican, half-Italian, powerhouse of a woman. Tyler had six younger siblings and his mom ran the household like an Army general. How the two of them had gotten away with the shit they did when they were younger, he’d never know. Probably because there were so many kids. The family's full size, fifteen passenger van had a bumper sticker that read 'Helluva lotta kids in this van. Honk if one falls out.’

It only took a couple of minutes for the food to warm up in the microwave. He barely tasted it. Tyler was a rock, just sitting quietly, there for Elijah if he needed it. Elijah was grateful for the support.

Tyler’s apartment had two bedrooms, but the second bedroom didn’t have any furniture. It really didn’t matter. Elijah used the bathroom, and when he came out, his friend was already in the queen-size bed, waiting for him to climb in. Tyler was bi, but they had never done anything together. Not because Elijah was straight, but because they were more like brothers and neither felt anything other than platonic love for each other.

Elijah slid between the cool sheets and sighed as he sunk into the pillow. Tyler scooted up and spooned him from behind. The last time they had shared a bed, they were seventeen and Tyler’s dog, Rags, had died. Sometimes you just need the comforting touch of another human being, and this was one of those times.

Elijah was still figuring things out when it came to his sexuality. He saw the beauty in everyone, regardless of whether they were male, female, or non-binary. He avoided labels, went out with whomever he wanted and, to date, had kissed exactly three people that weren’t blood related, or Tyler. All three were female, but he had no problem picturing himself kissing a guy. He didn’t know what it meant and really didn’t care.

Right now, his best friend was giving him exactly what he needed. Safety. Stability. Calmness washed over him, even though his mind was stuck on the spin cycle of a washing machine. Eventually he drifted off.

Elijah stirred as sunlight started to bake the back of his head. Tyler had forgotten to pull the shade and the early morning sun concentrated its rays directly on his head as it came through the window. Tyler’s side of the bed was empty and the sheets cool, so he must’ve been up for a while. The scent of coffee lured him out of the warm cocoon of blankets he was wrapped in.

He shoved his feet into a pair of Tyler’s slippers and grabbed a hoodie from the closet. The apartment was chilly, Tyler always kept the thermostat low to save money. He followed the aroma of arabica beans down the stairs and into the cozy little kitchen area and poured a cup from the half-full carafe. The first sip settled warmly inside him.

“Morning,” Tyler greeted. “You want breakfast? I can scramble a couple of eggs if you want.”

Elijah shook his head. “No thanks. You got any English muffins?”

Tyler grabbed a package of muffins from the pantry and tossed them over. Elijah popped two in the toaster and took the peanut butter and raspberry jam from the cupboard.

“So, what did the detective tell you?”

“Just that the postman saw the door had been forced open and then called 911. The first responders found them. I don't know any of the details. I don’t think I want to know.”

Tyler pushed the pan with his eggs off the burner and came to take Elijah in another hug. Elijah buried his head in his friend’s shoulder, pulling back only when he heard his English muffins pop up.

“Thanks, I needed that.”

Tyler nodded.

“So what time do you have to meet with the detective?”

Elijah glanced at the time on his phone. “In an hour and a half.”

“Good, that’ll give us time to eat and for both of us to get through the shower. Make it short. My hot water tank isn’t all that big,” Tyler reminded him.

Elijah took a bite of his English muffin, dripping with melted peanut butter and jam. Messy, but tasty. His stomach couldn't handle anything else.

He helped himself to more coffee and sat in comfortable silence with Tyler. His mind needed constant prodding to steer clear of the dark thoughts that wanted to take over. Like who killed his parents, and why?

Tyler shooed him toward the bathroom when he finished his coffee. Elijah let the hot water sluice over him, temporarily washing the tension down the drain. Mindful of the warning about the limited supply of hot water, he kept it short, shutting off the valve and wrapping a towel around himself.

He shouted down the hall that he was done before heading into the bedroom. Unzipping his duffel bag that had been abandoned the night before, he found some clothes. He rooted around mindlessly before his hand landed on clean socks.

He was dressed and toweling his hair when Tyler came in, wrapped in his own towel. Elijah scooted by his friend and finished getting ready in the bathroom.

His nerves kicked in when they were backing out of the driveway in Tyler’s Jeep. His hands shook, betraying him.

Eyes glued on the road ahead, Tyler reached over and put his hand over Elijah’s, calming him.

The police department was next to what could be called a small strip mall. Eight storefronts, anchored by the police department on one end, and the diner Elijah worked at on the other, with local businesses filling the space between. The parking lot at the end by the diner was full, a testament to the popularity of the restaurant.

“You got this, my friend,” Tyler assured him.

Elijah gave him a small smile.

He recognized the officer behind the desk. The town he lived in had about five thousand residents, and working in the diner allowed him to get to know, or at least recognize, a good number of them. It was one of those towns where you didn’t know everybody, but you knew somebody who knew someone.

Officer Miller, who frequented the diner, looked up when they came in. “Elijah, I’m so sorry about your folks.”

“Thanks.”

With a sympathetic look, he said, “I’ll let Detective Broussard know you’re here.”

Elijah and Tyler sat on the bench along the wall. Detective Broussard came out to greet them a few minutes later.

Elijah introduced Tyler and asked if it was alright for him to be there.

“Of course. Come on back with me. This is just a formality,” she assured him.

She led them to an empty office. The placard next to the door indicated it belonged to the Chief of Police, Daniel Romans. He wasn’t there, but Detective Broussard let them in with a key.

“Dan couldn’t make it. He’s at a meeting in Sacramento. He sends his condolences to you. Please have a seat,” she said, indicating the chairs surrounding a small table next to the Chief’s desk. She slid one of the chairs out and sat down, placing a laptop and a fresh legal pad on the table.

“Legally, I have to inform you that this conversation will be recorded. Do either of you have any objections?”

Elijah and Tyler shook their heads.

“Okay Mr. Garrison. For the record, where were you between 10pm and 6am Tuesday night into Wednesday morning?”

“A hotel in Twin Falls. I was driving back from Montana after visiting with some friends,” he answered.

“Are you aware of anyone who may have wanted to harm your parents?”

“No, my Mom and Dad didn’t have any enemies. They were a teacher and insurance adjuster. Mom was involved with a few after- school programs. She helped with the annual play the 9th and 10th graders put on. Dad liked hanging at the Elks on Sundays, watching football and having a couple of beers. I can’t imagine why anyone would want to hurt them.”

“What do you do for a living Mr. Garrison?” she asked as she typed on her laptop.

“Please, call me Elijah. I work at the diner on the other side of the plaza.”

Detective Broussard entered information into her laptop before asking a few more routine questions. Nothing out of the ordinary. When she was done, she asked, “Do you have any questions for me?”

“What have you found so far?” Elijah wanted to know, but didn’t want, to know.

“Other than what I told you yesterday, we haven’t discovered too much. We’ve sent some fingerprint samples off for analysis, but that will take a while. We’ll need you to submit your fingerprints, by the way, so we can eliminate those. Same thing with hair samples. The forced entry looks like it might have been done with a crowbar. Your parents were found in their bedroom, so we think they were most likely killed while they slept.”

“How were they killed?” he whispered, fixing his gaze at the edge of the desk, not wanting to see whatever form of pity was in her eyes.

Tyler took his hand and Elijah leaned toward him.

He needn't have worried, Detective Broussard’s expression was sympathetic as she answered. “They were shot. The neighbors didn’t recall hearing anything, so whoever it was probably used a suppressor.”

“Do I need to identify them?”

“No, the coroner will use their dental records to confirm, but from the photos that were found in your house, we could make a positive visual identification.”

The relief Elijah felt was tangible. He wanted to remember his parents as they were, not laid out on a cold, metal slab with bullet holes in their heads or hearts or wherever. His imagination produced vivid enough images, he didn’t need to see the reality.

Tyler's grip on his hand remained firm, for which Elijah was eternally grateful.

“So, what happens next? Where are my parents now? Can I go back to my house?” Elijah asked, his words tumbling over each other.

Detective Broussard nodded. “You'll be able to go back to your house later today. The forensic team should be done by the afternoon. Someone will call you to confirm. Your parents are at the county Coroner’s building. It’s adjacent to Goodwell Hospital. They’ll be able to recommend a few funeral homes. If your parents have a will or any advanced directive, then you should contact the attorney who set it up. Also, if you think of anything that might help, please don’t hesitate to call me. I promise I’ll keep you updated if we find out anything. Again, I’m really sorry.”

She wrote a number on the back of her card before handing it to him. “That’s the phone number for the coroner’s office. You should start there.”

Elijah and Tyler thanked her and walked out back out to the front. Officer Miller took his fingerprints and a hair sample to send off to the analysis department. He wiped his hands on the wet wipes he'd been given as he followed Tyler back to the Jeep.

“Hey, me and my folks will help you navigate all this stuff, okay?” Tyler assured him.

Elijah nodded. He knew his parents had a will. His dad was the type of guy who looked forward and planned ahead. It took a couple of minutes of wracking his brain to remember the name of the lawyer who had drawn up his parent’s will. Even in a small town, lawyers were plentiful. He Googled the number and, after identifying himself, he was told they could squeeze him in if he could be there within thirty minutes. Once again, not a problem, another advantage of small towns. It didn't take long to get anywhere.

The meeting was brief. The attorney assured him that his dad had made sure all of his affairs were in order. As an only child, Elijah was the sole heir. The house was paid for and there was a life insurance policy for both of his parents. It wasn’t a huge amount, but it would allow Elijah some breathing room.

He hadn’t been a great student, merely average, and had no interest in pursuing a college degree. He enjoyed working at the diner, but knew that eventually he would need to find a job that paid better. Now he would have a little wiggle room to decide what he wanted to do. He’d rather have his parents back.

The lawyer assured him that clearing the estate through probate wouldn’t be difficult. It would just take a little time. He left the office feeling a little more secure knowing that he wouldn’t lose the only home he had ever known due to finances.

Tyler waited for him and when the meeting was over he suggested going to his parent’s house so they could help Elijah figure out what arrangements needed to be made.

Mr. and Mrs. Williamson were Elijah’s second set of parents. They’d always treated him as another one of their own. To him they were Mama and Papi, same as what the other kids called them. Mama engulfed him as soon as he walked in the door, which was a feat of its own as she was a petite woman. Somehow her five-foot, two-inch frame dwarfed him when it came to hugs. It was a Mom hug, and that was exactly what he needed. More tears were shed, but these felt cathartic. Papi was an older version of Tyler, a little taller and a few pounds heavier.

Elijah pulled out the card that Detective Broussard gave him and called the coroner’s office. After a brief hold, the receptionist gave him the names and phone numbers of three funeral homes.

He was familiar with one of the funeral homes. It was close by and he had attended a few services there over the years. Putting his phone on speaker, he tapped out the numbers.

Tyler and his parents helped him navigate the initial steps that needed to be taken care of in order to have his parents transferred to the funeral home. He made an appointment with the director for the following day to finalize the details of the service. It was all too much and Elijah found himself with a headache brewing.

Mama made him eat, even though he wasn’t hungry. After dinner, he asked Tyler to take him back to his apartment, claiming he was tired.

“Just drop me off at my car. I need to go back to the house,” he told Tyler. Detective Broussard had notified him that the forensic team was done.

“Do you want me to go with you? We can go straight there.”

Elijah shook his head. “Thanks, but I need to do this by myself.”

Tyler nodded, not needing to question him, because they knew each other so well. All he needed to do was give his best friend a reassuring hug.

“Call me if you need anything,” Tyler offered.

Elijah nodded as he got into his SUV. The drive over to his house was short. The place looked forlorn, if that was even a thing. Police tape was still draped across the front door. Detective Broussard told him they had been able to secure the door, but the lock mechanism was damaged and would need to be replaced.

He went around back and struggled with the key to the sliding glass door that accessed the house from the deck. He rarely used the key for this entry and the lock was stiff. After a few muttered curses, the door finally slid open, the normally hushed scraping sound seemed a lot louder.

He flipped the light switch on, illuminating the kitchen. Everything was strewn about in disarray. He walked through to the living room, turning on lights as he went, dispelling the gloomy darkness. It was also a mess; furniture upended, drawers emptied onto the floor. Even though the room was in shambles, there didn’t seem to be anything missing. The large, flat-screen TV was in place, the sound system his dad loved, still hooked up. Then again, until he got everything into order, it would be hard to tell.

He vaguely remembered the detective saying robbery may have been involved. What he didn’t recall was her saying that his home had been trashed.

The house had an unusual design. It was mostly one level, a large kitchen in the back, with an open floor plan leading to a spacious living room. Off the living room was a guest bathroom and the hallway which led to Elijah’s room, an office-slash-guest room, and another bathroom which Elijah claimed.

His parents' room was in a loft that was above the kitchen. There was a balcony that overlooked the living room. The bedroom itself was enclosed and Elijah stared up at the closed door, yellow crime scene tape fastened to the molding.

His feet carried him reluctantly up the stairs, trudging as though weighted down with invisible chains. It almost felt like eyes were watching him. Maybe he should’ve had Tyler come with him. He shook his head to clear his thoughts. This is what he got for watching horror movies. There was nothing like an overactive imagination to fuel one’s fears.

Standing in front of the door, he hesitated before peeling away the yellow tape. Taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly, he grasped the knob. His hand froze, his mind offering one last chance to protect itself from whatever scene was on the other side.

He quickly turned the knob and threw the door open. The initial burst of light from the hall cast deep shadows through his parent’s bedroom. He pushed the switch and muted light filled the room.

He gasped softly.

There was no doubt that this was a crime scene. Black smudges dirtied almost every surface, still highlighting the fingerprints they revealed. Clothes were strewn about, drawers ransacked. The inside of the closet looked like a tornado had hit it. Holes had been punched in the drywall, every box torn apart.

The worst part was the bed. His parents’ king size bed was rumpled, sheets, blankets and comforter left askew. For several awful seconds, Elijah could do nothing but stare at the twin, rust colored stains that marred the bold multi-colored sheets his mom preferred. The stains covered both pillows and spread to the sheets below them. Droplets spattered the headboard and wall behind it.

As soon as his brain processed the images, his stomach revolted. He bolted for his parents’ bathroom, upchucking violently into the toilet. Fresh tears ran down his face, but he was oblivious to the cascade.

When the spasms subsided he hightailed it out of there, slamming the switches for the lights as well as the door, wanting the darkness to take away the awful images. His feet thundered down the stairs.

Out of habit, he turned off the lights in the kitchen and living room before heading down the hall to his room, where he let out a deep breath. His limbs started quivering, trying to get rid of the adrenaline that had flooded his system.

Several calming breaths later, he was able to think more clearly. He quickly decided to pack clothes and toiletries to take to Tyler’s. He knew his friend would let him stay for as long as he needed. He just couldn’t bear to be in the house with his parents’ room like it was. One more thing to add to his ever-growing to-do list.

Of course, his room was just as messed up as the rest of the house. Ignoring it, he picked his way over to the closet. As he packed his extra suitcase, Elijah thought he heard a noise.

He stopped and listened, his ears picked up a very faint scuffling sound. He ceased shoving stuff into his suitcase, and immediately shifted into a sleek black cat, clothes puddling around him. He disentangled himself and shook out his fur, a natural instinct for a cat.

Stealthily, he crept out into the darkened hallway.

When he shifted into an animal, he gained that animal’s ability in regards to its senses. As a dog, he could smell more acutely and hear frequencies his human ears couldn’t. He shifted into a dolphin once and was delighted to hold his breath for so long.

His borrowed cat senses allowed him to see clearly in the near pitch darkness. Shadows flitted across the walls as the trees outside swayed in the light breeze. His ears twitched as they tried to pick up anything out of the ordinary. His whiskers vibrated, almost indiscernible to the naked eye, trying to detect any unusual movement.

As he inched along the wall, low to the ground, he felt invisible, yet somehow he knew he was being watched. He scanned the room, detecting nothing out of place.

The only light source was the full moon, currently obscured by clouds, its muted glow doing nothing to dispel the inky darkness.

Just as he was about to give up, he saw the briefest flicker out of the corner of his eye.

There!

In front of the cold fireplace, the darkness stirred minisculely.

Black sliding across black, shadow against shadow.

Muscles bunched, he launched himself without warning, like a spring set loose from its tether.

The instant his paws touched the cimmerian void, several things happened at once. Unable to control himself, he shifted back to his human state. He found himself grappling with someone. A rather large someone. Twisting and turning in the dark, Elijah put up a good fight, but it wasn’t enough. He was pinned beneath a behemoth, struggling uselessly to break free. The giant easily overpowered him, immobilizing his arms above his head.

It was at that moment that Elijah realized he was naked. It was a problem that had no solution when he shifted into an animal form.

He tried to lunge upward, to no avail.

“Get off me!” he grunted.

The big man chuckled. The room suddenly brightened as the moon slipped out from behind the clouds, illuminating things just enough for Elijah to make out the man’s features.

He sucked in air as if his life depended on it.

Holy hotcakes, this guy was hotter than hot. Hair as black as a raven’s, matching, short trimmed beard, bronzed skin, fathomless dark brown eyes that looked completely black in the dim light. His lips, however, they were to die for. Full and lush, red, even in the dim light. As Elijah stared at them, one corner drifted up in a half smile.

He squirmed uncomfortably as the man shifted his weight. Instead of covering Elijah’s torso, he merely pinned him with one of his tree trunk legs across his thighs. Still holding Elijah’s arms locked in place above his head, the stranger’s gaze raked its way down his body, taking his damn sweet time as if he was savoring a tasty morsel.

The other side of his mouth shot up as his gaze landed on Elijah’s crotch. Betrayed by his body, his dick decided it wanted to get in on the action, plumping up to his dismay.

“Who the fuck are you?” Elijah demanded, needing to divert attention away from his current embarrassing situation.

“Kage.”