A Taste of Shifter Geekdom: Shifter Romance (Vanguard Elite Book 2) Page 2

  Pallas loomed over them, booted feed spread wide, rifle in hand. “You’re alive.” He actually sounded pleased. “Good.” He tossed him the rifle. “You need to do your laps.”

  Darrell flopped onto his back. They revived himH just so the vampire could kill him again.

  Julia hovered into his view. Her big, liquid brown eyes filled with concern. “If you want, I’ll swim along with you.”

  He gave her a slow blink. “What?” She thought he was weak and needed help. He sat up, pushing her out of the way. “I’m fine. I need to catch my breath, that’s all.” His head kept spinning. “Maybe you should hang around in case I need another round of CPR though.” He wouldn’t mind feeling her lips once more.

  Chapter Two

  Darrell’s arms weighed a ton and his body ached too much to move. He had survived last night and had a fresh one to get through. First, he needed to make sure the AK-47s that had gotten wet were cleaned. He had tried to sleep but he had heard Clare tell some of the pack to leave the rifles in the armory to air dry. Of all things to do to a gun, air drying was the worst. These rifles were good, but they were also old. They needed to be babied if they wanted them to perform. So instead of sleeping, he sat on the armory floor, caring for their weapons. He took apart his fourteenth rifle on a towel and sprayed the parts with all-in-one cleaner and lube. Alpha or not, he’d have a talk with Clare later about proper weapon care. He’d happily teach them, but he didn’t join the camp to be their private armory janitor. Any of the AK-47s could misfire if not properly cared for.

  The manor was quiet and the rhythm of cleaning the assault weapons soothed him like sleep couldn’t. There was something cathartic about the repetitive motion and the solitude. It sort of reminded him of how his grandma’s church felt. He smirked. Not that he’d ever admit that to her. She’d switch his ass even if he was twice her size. Feisty beast that one.

  He coughed. His lungs felt lined with fuzz. How was he going to run this evening when he had trouble breathing sitting still?

  “Rise and shine,” Blain sang out from the pack room. “It’s a beautiful evening…”

  Darrell moaned a wolf-like howl at his horrid singing voice and was rewarded with Blain’s laughter. Evening already? He finished the last rifle and set it aside with the others. He hoped Pallas didn’t mind him reorganizing the space. He’d arranged weapons with their required bullets and harnesses. The ammunition really shouldn’t be kept together. Not everyone could tell them apart. He gave the room a once over and nodded in satisfaction. Much better. One day, he’d own his own armory.

  Blain stuck his head inside the room. “It’s a beautiful—” He sang off-key and very loud.

  Darrell’s inner ear spasmed. He swung a punch at the blind shifter who pulled out of the way in time. “You’re going to have to explain how you do that.”

  “I hate you both,” Ian mumbled as he fell face first onto the couch in the pack space.

  Clare skipped over to Ian. “Come on sleepy head. There won’t be any breakfast left.”

  In one smooth motion, Ian rolled off the couch and caught his mate in a long and slow embrace.

  Darrell rolled his eyes. “When will you get your own bedroom?” Ian still shared one with him and Blain.

  “Pallas doesn’t want to encourage any fraternizing.” Blain elbowed Darrell. “So shush and watch. You might learn a thing or two.”

  “Not like separate rooms are stopping them.” Darrell pulled on a sweater he had discarded earlier in the day and shoved the couple out of his way. Fucking weather was sucking the life out of him. Of all the places the vampire could pick to set-up this training camp, he choose the Adirondack Mountains in up-state New York. Might as well be in Canada. It wouldn’t be so bad if they had some indoor heating so they could get a break from the cold. Darrell skipped the icy shower—the vampire still refused to turn on the power—since his skin still felt water logged from being in the pond. He headed straight to the kitchen and grabbed a cup of coffee from the pot hanging over the fire pit.

  Female laughter set his wolf on high alert. Across the room, Julia entered from the back staircase with Yanis trailing her like a puppy. Sharp fury stabbed through his flesh. His coffee cup chattered in his hand and hot liquid scalded his fingers. “Fuck.” He shook his hand. Where had they been together? He’d been trying to corner her alone for days.

  Julia’s smile faded and she crossed the room. Taking his hand, she led him to the sink. He followed and tossed Yanis a smug look over his shoulder. She cared enough to drop the other wolf mid-sentence. His inner wolf calmed the moment she’d touched him, like a soothing balm.

  She ran cold water over the burn. “It’s not bad. Should heal before target practice.” Her touch was gentle. It softened something hard and brittle inside his chest.

  He tossed her a side glance. “We’re going to the firing range?” His heart raced. How had he forgotten? Things were looking up. He’d been dying to try out that sweet M-6 rifle Pallas had locked away in the basement. He promised to let Darrell try it out.

  “If you could call it that.” She grimaced and shut off the water. “A bunch of hay bales with targets painted on them does not make a firing range in my opinion.”

  “What else do you need?” It was an honest question, but Julia frowned. The person who had saved his life then she swam extra laps alongside him to make sure he didn’t drown again. “Sorry.” He wasn’t sure for what but he learned a long time ago when a female seemed upset then apologize.

  “How are you feeling?” She poured him another cup of coffee while he cleaned the mess he’d left on the kitchen floor.

  “Fantastic.” Considering he’d almost died. He tossed the shards in the trash.

  A pretty blush painted her rounded cheeks. Her brown hair fell in waves around her face. Thick and long, the kind a man could wrap around his wrist to hold her in place while he…She offered him a fresh cup of coffee. “I’m glad.”

  More shifters arrived crowding the kitchen and jostling Darrell’s cup hand.

  “Watch it.” He shoved back. When he glanced at Julia, she was already making her way out of the kitchen. He followed her to the common room. “Julia!” He lifted his coffee higher and shouldered his way through the crowd. God, the shitheads acted like they’d never seen food before.

  She hesitated just inside the other room.

  “I want to thank you for saving me last night. Swimming isn’t my strongest skill.”

  “Imagine that, and all this time I thought you were perfect.” The smile she aimed at him wasn’t the same one she used on Yanis. It focused on him and warmed his insides better than any coffee. “You’re welcome.” She trailed her fingertips over his bicep, her eyelids drooping as her gaze traveled over his face, to his shoulders, then his chest and back again. “Never been kissed while doing mouth-to-mouth before.”

  Desire scalded his blood. “I—I was out of it. I didn’t know what I was doing.”

  She winked. “Sure, that’s what they all say.” She strolled into the common room. Her jeans clung to her ass like a second skin and her walk took on a sway so her nicely rounded hips moved with silent invitation.

  He always liked females with extra curve. Ever since they’d been on the same scavenger hunt team, he hadn’t stopped daydreaming about her. She was what he’d pictured the perfect female would be. Not just her looks, but her generous heart, her outgoing personality, and her gentle touch. His pack didn’t have many females and those they did have had sharper edges than his.

  He shouldn’t have talked to her during the run. Now he’d never get her out of his system. He had to focus on finishing boot camp, not peeling Julia out of those jeans. His pack needed him to think with the head on his shoulders and not dick around with the head between his legs. Plenty of time for that once he found a job and could help support his pack. He had to ignore Julia’s temptations and keep his eye on the end-goal.

  “Darrell.” Pallas snapped his name like a whip.

&
nbsp; “Yes, sir?” He set his coffee aside and entered the armory.

  “Did you do this?” The vampire gestured to the re-organized armory. He looked less than pleased.

  “Is there a problem with it, sir?” He stood at attention. The vampire liked guns. No doubt about it, but Darrell had noticed him make a few amateur mistakes over the last two weeks. He suspected Pallas was one of those really old vamps that was still adjusting to modern things. He’d never accuse Pallas of it. Not unless he had a death wish.

  The vampire grimaced. “No, but inform me of what you’re going to do before you do it.” He handed him the M-6. “Don’t shoot out your eye.”

  Julia could sense Darrell’s gaze burning through her jeans. That’s what happened when she played with fire. She shouldn’t tempt fate. Pallas didn’t want anyone—how did he put it—fucking. Yes, well that’s all that ran through her mind when around Darrell. Fear of being sent home had kept her behaving. Something about Darrell brought out her wolf and made her want to break all the rules. He brought out the animal in her. Flirting with him was a stupid move.

  She glanced over shoulder but the space he had occupied was empty. Her heart fell. Silly of her to feel this way. Darrell was handsome and sexy, strong and honest, shy and adorable… God, she had it bad for him. If only she could keep him, she’d never let him go. All her life she wanted her freedom. Never dreaming of anything else until now. Darrell was something worth fighting for. She’d figure out a way to stay in the boot camp.

  She sat next to Nick while waiting for her turn to enter the armory and get a rifle. She wasn’t in any hurry.

  Nick leaned his arm over her shoulders and gave her a welcoming grin. “Hey hot stuff, planning anymore CPR sessions tonight? I’ll volunteer.”

  “Only if you get shot first.” She poked him in the ribs. He was just teasing. Nick was good people and would prefer Darrell over her any day.

  “The way you aim it’s a good possibility.” He flinched as she poked him harder.

  “That’s not funny.” She kept her smile pasted on, like her mother had taught. You don’t need to mean it. They just need to believe it. How many generations of Donahue females had believed this philosophy? If she graduated from this training, she would be the last. She promised.

  “It’s a little funny.” He pinched the air. “You’ll get it. You’re close.”

  “You bet I will.” She gritted her teeth as Nick took his turn to get a weapon. No, she wouldn’t pass. She hadn’t hit the target once, let alone the bull’s eye.

  Pallas wanted them to hit specific places on each target from different positions. What was she going to do? The one time she came close to hitting the assigned spot, she had had her eyes closed.

  Nick left the armory with his rifle.

  Julia glanced at the others waiting and waved them ahead, not anxious to spend the evening ashamed of her skills.

  Once the common room emptied, she approached the armory.

  Pallas held out a rifle with ammunition. “Tonight, we’ll be using scarecrows and I’ll expect you to hit—” He raised his head and their gazes locked. “Anything. I’d be happy if you’d just hit anything.”

  She clasped the rifle to her chest. “I’m not failing on purpose.”

  “I know.” He ran his hand over his bald head.

  “I’m trying my hardest.”

  “I know!” He shouted. “Trying won’t help you on the battlefield, Julia. You’re here to become a warrior. Warriors have to hit what they are aiming at. The end.”

  She fiddled with the strap of the rifle. “But I don’t know what I’m doing wrong. I can do everything else you’ve demanded but aiming this stupid thing.” She shook the rifle under his chin.

  He sighed. “I’ll spend more time with you this evening.” He glanced behind her as if checking to make sure the common room was empty. “You’re a sweet girl, Julia. What are you doing here?”

  She took a step in retreat. “What do you mean?”

  “You don’t seem like the killer type.”

  “Neither does Penny, or—or Nick.”

  “And I’ve had this same talk with them.” He blocked the armory doorway with his body.

  She gripped the rifle hard. Sweat trickled down her back. “I want to learn to defend myself.”

  He shook his head. “You can take classes. I’m teaching how to kill. Why should I let you stay?”

  She swallowed hard. “Because I have nowhere else to go.” The truth popped out.

  His non-existent eyebrows rose high on his forehead. “Could you shoot someone if you had to?”

  She thought of her home situation and what they’d driven her to. “Yes.”

  “Good enough.” She went to pass him but he blocked her with his arm. “For now. You still need to hit the targets.”

  She nodded and stormed out of the manor. She passed through the burnt front porch, where the local townspeople had tried to burn down the manor, and by the loose shutters on the windows. Dead weeds clung to the old stone. The forest, though, glowed with a vast array of fall colors in the moonlight, from gold to burning red. This heralded the coming of winter. She prayed their swimming exercises would be done before then.

  The shooting rage was a mile from the manor, far from the main road. The vampire didn’t want to alarm the locals more by having them parade with rifles on the property in full view.

  As she drew closer, the sound of gunshots sliced across her eardrums. She hated the noise and Pallas refused them hearing protection. He hadn’t even known what she was asking for until she explained. He said they needed to get use to the noise.

  She cleared the woods and came upon an open field—shooters on one end, scarecrows on the other, and bales of hay lined the area for multiple uses. Someone had gotten creative and made the scarecrows all bald with pointed ears to resemble Pallas. She could work with this.

  One gunshot sounded much louder than the others. More like a cannon. She searched through the shifters for the noisemaker.

  Darrell stood straight backed, legs apart as he aimed his weapon at a stuffed vampire hanging at the very far end of the field from a tree. It swayed erratic in the wind. He shouted. “Left hand.” Then pulled the trigger. The target’s left hand exploded.

  Ian howled and clapped Darrell on the back. “Let me try now.”

  Julia rubbed her chest and ignored the pressure from heart burn. He made it look so fucking easy. She turned her back on them and found a secluded spot where she could ignore the others. She stood with her left shoulder facing the target like she’d been taught, legs apart with the left foot forward. Ian had told her to stand as if in a batter’s box when she first didn’t understand Pallas’ instructions. She gripped the rifle high on the back strap and supported the forestock with her left hand. Bringing the butt to her shoulder, she rested her cheek firmly on the stock.

  Though the night had a frigid bite, sweat beaded on her forehead. She stared down the sight and aimed at her stationary scarecrow tied to a wooden pole. She could do this.

  She pulled the trigger and the tree behind her target shuddered with the impact.

  “For crying out loud.” She reloaded. This was going to be a long night.

  Pallas paused next to her. “You’re trying too hard.”

  Chapter Three

  The M-6 in Darrell’s arms felt clunky. More awkward than he’d hoped. He placed the M-6 in Ian’s eager hands. His new alpha was growing to love the armory as much as Darrell. “I’m not crazy about it. The trigger’s too tight and the barrel is top heavy.”

  “Really?” Ian caressed the weapon. “I love it. If I weren’t already mated I might have married her.” He hugged the rifle to his chest.

  Maybe Pallas had access to an AR-15. If Darrell showed him the article in Guns and Ammo, the vampire might consider acquiring one. He kept info on the latest guns stored in file folders in his suitcase under his bunk, for safe keeping, until the day he could afford to purchase the ones he wanted most. If the
vampire had a computer, Darrell could show him a few awesome videos of the AR-15 in action.

  Ian shot the M-6, taking off the scarecrow’s arms.

  Darrell chuckled and scanned the shooting range, his gaze landed on a familiar bald head on the other side. Not a scarecrow Nosferatu, but the real thing. Maybe this would be a good time to bring up—

  The vampire leaned close to Julia, trying to help her aim, his head in-line with hers. Darrell’s wolf rose to the surface and growled. Pallas shouldn’t touch her.

  Julia pulled the trigger. The ricochet of the rifle butt slammed her shoulder into the vampire’s nose.

  “Fuck.” His shout was followed by other unfamiliar words that didn’t require translation since they clearly sounded like curses. Pallas clapped his hand over his bloody nose and glared at Darrell from across the field.

  Julia set her rifle against a hay bale and hovered around the much bigger vampire. Darrell could read her lips as she apologized to Pallas.

  The vampire pointed at Darrell and crooked his finger to join them.

  Shit, why had he made eye contact? Dragging his feet, he wandered over to Julia’s station. She smelled like honey cream even over the smell of gunpowder. How was he supposed to ignore his attraction to her when every time he turned around she was there?

  Pallas lowered his blood-covered palm, but his nose seemed healed. “I am fine, Julia. Stop fretting.” He gestured to Darrell. “Maybe he can figure out why you are having so much trouble hitting a target.” He brushed pass Darrell. “Teach her.”

  “Yes, sir.” He gave Julia a confident smile. Damn it, she appeared so upset and desperate. He stroked her cheek and she leaned into his touch. He wanted to scoop her onto his lap and make her feel better. With a jerk of his hand, he broke contact. Wow, he’d heard stories of shifter’s animal taking over the human part’s will, but it hadn’t ever happened to him until now.