Savage: Finally After Dark: Shifters Forever Worlds, #47

By Elle Thorne

Davin's the last of the brothers remaining in New Orleans. He's always up for a good time and is intrigued by Quake's warning to stay away from Lucia. Talk about putting bait before him. So he decides to follow Lucia. And boy oh boy, does Lucia take him for a trek around the French Quarter. Until she arrives at the home of a beautiful brunette who is wearing gloves in the middle of what might be called a heat wave by some.

What harm could a little surveillance and reconnaissance hurt?

Could hurt a lot when Davin ends up on his tush, in the beautiful brunette's courtyard with a few broken bones.
Phoebe Jarreau's cursed. She's dealt with this damned curse all her life. So when Lucia comes up with a possible solution, she can't see a reason not to take her up on it. Well, there's one reason. Phoebe's coven might take umbrage.
Unfortunately, there's been a monkey wrench thrown into the plans. Her curse has shown her something of the past. Davin wants to know more about what she's seen while she'd rather forget it.

Could an attraction turn into discord when Davin pushes her too hard? What about when one of those in the vision appears in the flesh?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Barbed Borders Press
• Release date: Nov 24, 2022
• ISBN: 9798215011065

Book preview

CHAPTER ONE

Well, this made for a hell of an ending. Davin Wulfsen put his hands behind his head and stretched his legs out. The bed was about as comfortable as any he’d ever been in, courtesy of Quaker—Quake—whatever his last name was. Did Ancients even have last names? He needed to ask them.

Davin had a last name. So did his dire wolf shifter brothers. Their last name was Wulfsen. Made sense, seeing as how they were sons of wolves. Of course, they had no idea until just recently that they were descended from the Ancients themselves. On both sides of their family. Their mother was the daughter of an Ancient dire wolf shifter, and their father was an Ancient vampire.

Fucking vampires.

He and his brothers had spent their lives raising their noses at those blood suckers, and now they’d discovered they were descended from one.

His phone buzzed. Jason was calling. That was the third time in just as many hours. He’d also texted, saying that plans had changed. Right. Like Davin was going to answer that call.

Plans have changed, my ass.

They’d probably gotten a mission and wanted him to hustle back to Alaska to help with some assignment or another. No damned way. He was going to have some fun while he was in the Crescent City. He wasn’t in any rush to get back to below-zero nights in a lonely bed while his brothers were getting it on with their Valkyrie smokeshows. Davin shut off the phone then shoved it into the nightstand’s drawer.

Back to the hell of an ending…

Yeah, Davin was completely alone in this over-the-top-luxurious suite. The last of his brothers—Jason—had just bailed on him, found himself a perma-honey, and headed back to Alaska with her to play house. First came Range, with his girl Eire—the first Valkyrie they’d ever seen, then came Asa. Wouldn’t you know it, he’d hooked up with a Valkyrie. Then Jason and Lina—guess what—another Valkyrie.

He sighed. Sure, the Valkyrie were beautiful, crazy-sexy, and hellacious fighters, but by his reckoning, three redheaded, weapon-brandishing women were enough. He’d be damned if he’d find himself with one.

Actually, come to think of it, he’d be damned if he’d find himself with any woman at all for any sort of permanent length of time. His idea of permanent was twelve hours.

Now he was all on his own in Party City, USA—also known as New Orleans, Louisiana—and his brothers weren’t here. Carousing just wouldn’t be the same. He tapped his bottom lip with a forefinger. What to do with himself? He could reach out to those witches he and Jason met recently. What were their names? He remembered the blondes—Caliste and Delphine. What about the brunettes? He mulled it over. That’s right. Arietta and Félicianne.

He could always seek them out and see if they were interested in showing him more of the town. Or more of themselves. His johnson twitched in response. It had been a long time since he’d been with a woman. For all that his brothers thought that he was such a womanizer, Davin was actually more talk than action. And yet…

He wondered what kind of trouble he could get himself into here in the Crescent City. He could go roaming and see what sort of fun he could scare up. Out of the blue, Quake’s warning to steer clear of Lucia came to his mind. He’d certainly noticed Lucia. What red-blooded man wouldn’t have? Dark-skinned, eyes that flashed gold and white, revealing her inner white tigress, curly dark hair done up in braids. She was aloof and composed, a no-nonsense woman with poise.

And she’s off-limits.

He didn’t need the reminder. Though the problem with Davin was that telling him something was not available was only likely to make him pursue the matter with more fervor. If nothing else, out of sheer curiosity.

Davin grimaced as a bout hit him. He leaned against the wall and grasped his head. He tried to steady himself. Tried not to lose his shit. Hell. This damned crap was getting worse. This stuff was happening too often and getting louder. And still, he had no idea what it meant exactly. Voices. It was voices.

Voices speaking in another language. Foreign words that he couldn’t identify. God knew, he’d listened to tons of languages on the internet trying to peg the one that kept infiltrating his mind, but to no avail. No luck whatsoever. And though he couldn’t identify the language, he knew exactly when it started.

It began two days after the government put him and his brothers through its secret experiments on shifters. He knew Asa, Jason, and Range had all dealt with some sort of effects after the experiments, but none of them were like this. And he’d never shared what he suffered with anyone, not even his brothers. Hell, none of them were much about sharing anyway.

Moments later, the voices, a cacophony of that foreign language, screeching and screaming, male and female, all began to subside, leaving him to wipe the sweat that had formed on his brow.

Damn. That was a particularly bad one.

Were the bouts getting worse? It seemed that they had been since Davin and his brothers had arrived in Louisiana. Maybe it was the humidity. Or the heat. Or the fact that there were so damned many supernatural beings in this city. He’d need to get back to Alaska as soon as possible so that they could lessen. But for now, he might as well head to one of the bars downtown. Seemed like that was what one did when one was in New Orleans—drink. He was just exiting the elevator, ready to slip out the shifter door of the supernatural hotel/restaurant/gathering place. He took a swift glance in the mirror to make sure he was on point. Clothing, check. Hair, check. Beard, well, it could stand a trim.

Tomorrow, he thought, running his fingers through the facial growth he’d allowed to get a bit out of hand. Not likely to attract any ladies who enjoyed a well-trimmed man. Oh, well, the hell with it. That wouldn’t stop him from having fun. Or getting laid, if that was his choice at the end of the night.

Just as he slid out the door, he noticed a familiar head of braids making its way down the block.

Lucia.

Inquisitiveness got the best of him, and he began to trail the beauty, thoughts of the voices temporarily set aside in his quest to satisfy his curiosity. He wasn’t a man with a death wish. He had no intention of trying to bed the woman. He knew better than to cross Quake in that manner.

And yet, that damned curiosity got the best of him.

CHAPTER TWO

Aloud knock at the door caught Phoebe Jarreau’s attention.

Delivery. A male voice. One she didn’t recognize.

Leave it on the doormat, she said, loud enough to be heard through the door of her typical creole cottage, heavily inspired by French and Spanish construction, as well as influenced by the local climate and culture.

It was an adorable and quaint cottage. Some might call it a bungalow. It was symmetrical and square, with a side-gabled roof and narrow dormer windows. The front facade was sheltered by an overhang, the windows by abat-vent, which were sloping boards used to break the wind without obstructing the passage of air or sound, and also directed rain away from the front portico and windows. One door in front, with an outside barred gate, led to the street. One door in the back—no barred gate there—led to the courtyard, which served as a backyard—of sorts. The windows all had shutters—and bars.

French Quarter, duh.

The slight building boasted masonry construction with plaster and wood weatherboard siding in a soft butter cream color. Phoebe’s little charmer of a home had a second floor with a gallery that stretched the full length of the front of the building, but she never ventured to the second floor. Nope, not even during Mardi Gras when tourists made fools of themselves in exchange for some plastic beads. She’d sealed the second story off long ago. She didn't need that much space to live.

Need a signature, the delivery guy shouted through the open window though he couldn’t see inside, not with the slant of the boards, of that she was certain.

Damn. Hang on. Give me a moment. Nope, not a moment to get decent. A moment to people-proof herself. She slipped on a pair of fabric gloves and then pulled on a pair of leather gloves on top of the first ones. She fiddled with the lock—damned humidity made it stick—then opened the door, but she left the gate intact. He could hand her whatever it was through the bars.

He held up a machine roughly the size of an iPad. Sign here. He indicated an X on the screen.

Got a pen? she asked him.

Fingertip works just fine. He glanced at her glove-covered hands. Jesus. I’m sweating just looking at your hands. It’s 95 degrees outside, lady.

She shook her head. Fingertip won’t work. Nope. No way. And she wasn’t interested in detailing the hows and whats and why-nots to him. Are you new? He had to be. Her usual FedEx driver was well aware he had to have a stylus pen. She didn’t wait for an answer. Gimme a moment. Let me get something. She knew she had one lying around. Somewhere.

Seriously, lady? Do you know how backed up I am on my deliveries?

Pfft. Like she cared. She let the door bang shut behind her while she dug around in the desk drawer for a stylus she was sure she had. Sorry. You can sign it for me if you want.

I’m not about to lose my job by doing that, he groused.

Got it. She found the stylus, opened the door, and signed the screen next to the X. Thanks. Sorry.

He slipped the oversized envelope through the bars, said not a word while she took it, and she went back inside, letting the door close behind her. She could only imagine he thought she was a nutcase.

Maybe I am.

An envelope? She wasn’t expecting that. She was anticipating a delivery of essential oils. Not an envelope. She studied the return address area on the label affixed to the front. No company name, but the address was local. Not one she recognized. Not at all. Whatever it was, she was sure it wasn’t good news. She tossed it on top of her desk, then stripped off the gloves.

A piercing whistle shattered the silence in the cottage. The kettle blared its glaring admonition, urging her to get it off the flame.

Perfect timing. The water was ready for tea.

With the unopened FedEx envelope at the very back of her mind, sort of, she made her way to the kitchen.

CHAPTER THREE

So, intrigued by the notion of the beauty in the braids that was wending her way among the streets of the French Quarter, Davin followed. Warnings were never a discouragement, not to Davin. Might as well tempt him as warn him. He followed the attractive woman around the Quarter. Royal Street, Bourbon Street, Decatur, Chartres. She was giving him quite the run-around, going into stores, sometimes exiting empty-handed, and sometimes carrying a bag or two from the shops and boutiques. The scent of a fresh loaf of French bread wafted behind her. Shortly after leaving a pastry shop, the scent of sugar and butter followed her. Was Lucia out and about to buy things for Quake? Or did she have another lover? One that she was hoping to meet with