Siren

Bodies writhed against each other in the dimly lit bar. On the packed dance floor, on purposely-placed couches, in more discreet, darkened corners, against tables and chairs meant for patrons to take their food and drink on, anywhere there was room, the scantily-clad clientele engrossed themselves in their sexual pursuits. Eden watched a foursome slip through the hallway at the back of the club, headed towards one of the rooms designed for more privacy. Three shifter males, one shifter female. Lupines, judging by the studded leather collars.

These were the clients Duke’s catered to, shifters in need of a place to release their pent-up fears and tension, to explore their desires with willing partners, to simply enjoy each other in the most basic animalistic ways. Duke’s was a shifter sanctuary. Away from the humans who shoved collars on them many years ago to control the dangers of their existence, shifters could shed the strict rules they’d been forced to conform to and just be.

Eden was not one of them.

Being at Duke’s was dangerous. She could have her throat ripped out before she knew what was happening if any of them scented her, but she craved the dark atmosphere of Duke’s. Here, shifters shed their inhibitions to fuck anywhere and everywhere. Watching was a heady experience.

The enchanted metal collar biting into her neck hid her scent. She was protected from the shifters outing her on smell alone. She’d dressed the part to maintain her façade. Her breasts threatened to spill from the leather bra she wore. With no shirt to shield them from view, they could fall out of the tiny covering and be exposed to the entire club. The stiletto heels she wore were uncomfortably high but did the job of drawing eyes up her legs to her pert ass. The leather miniskirt she’d chosen from her vast collection was tight enough to nearly bind her legs together. The shifters would think she’d dressed to attract a partner for their mating frenzy. They’d never know the clothing choices were for her comfort, the near nudity reminding her of home and the binding of her legs almost giving her the impression of the fins she missed dearly.

Keeping the shifters unaware was for the best. Mermaids didn’t exist. Eden intended to let them continue believing that.

A tingle shot down her spine. Someone was watching her. Casually, she let her gaze drift from the grinding bodies. Her eyes locked on a woman a couple seats away, who was watching her intensely. Eden took in the woman. She was tall, fit, posture regal despite the tight leather pants and black tape creating X’s over her nipples. Her eyes were a shocking shade of green, and her hair pitch black, cropped short. Eden wondered if the curls between her thighs matched in color or if she cropped those, too. She wanted to lick down the woman’s body, from her broad shoulders, over her small breasts, past her narrow hips, to find out.

She smiled at the woman, slowly, seductively, the way she’d been trained to since she was old enough to lure sailors to their deaths.

“See something you like?” Eden murmured.

“You smell like dead fish.”

Eden jerked, her smile dropping. Her eyes drifted to the collar around the woman’s neck. Simple, plain, silver. The woman was a Feline shifter, and Eden’s scent resembled fish.

Dead fish.

Anger bubbled in her veins. Her lungs constricted, her fingers curled into claws, and her vision blackened at the edges, honing her sights on the Feline shifter. She was going to drown the bitch for insulting her, and then she’d find Adrianne, tear out her vocal chords, and drown her in a puddle of her own blood.

The Feline shifter continued to watch her. One wrong move and Eden would find herself the one dead on the club’s floor. Shifters protected their own, and Eden was outnumbered. They were immune to siren song. Attempting to seduce them would be foolish. The lengths her kind had taken to keep themselves hidden would be ruined because she couldn’t contain her instincts to kill anyone who crossed her.

Eden dragged herself away from her target. She observed the bodies twisting around each other in mating dances, fed on the pleasure radiating from the shifters. Two female shifters pleasured a male with their mouths. A male rammed into a female against the wall. Two women fondled each other. Bodies on the floor, on the couches, on the tables, around the bar near her. The aroma of sex in the air, the groaning and moaning and animal sounds, and the sights dampened her fury.

She could think now. The Feline shifter smelled dead fish on her, not the shifter scent the collar was intended to give her. The rest would be able to smell it on her too. They just hadn’t said anything to her. The scent of death on her, even that of fish, kept them from approaching her. For now.

She needed to get out of there.

Eden slid from her barstool, onto her unsteady legs. She stamped down her nerves enough to keep her from stumbling as she strode across the club. She forced a sultry swing to her hips, kept her head high, and managed to hold her shoulders back and breasts pushed out. The shifters wouldn’t see her discomfort.

She almost reached her escape when the hard length of a body pressed against her back and hands firmly gripped her waist. Frozen, she let the shifter nuzzle her neck.

“What are you?” the same smooth voice from the bar murmured in her ear.

The Feline shifter.

“None of you damn business,” Eden snapped.

The reproaching nip at her ear heated her skin. “I’m afraid it is.”

The Feline shifter nuzzled her neck again, nipping the skin around Eden’s collar lightly. An unbidden groan rang low in Eden’s throat, and she tipped her head to the side to give the woman better access. Her body flared at the teeth grazing her skin.

Warnings chanted in the back of her mind, low insistence that she needed to leave, push out of the Feline shifters hold and takeoff in her stiletto heels, but the logical warnings sank under the new ache developing between her thighs. Eden remained rooted in place, mere steps from escape, and let the shifter caress her bared skin.

Fingers danced under the band of her leather bra, and then a sudden burst of cold air licked her nipples. Eden started at the sensation, eyes dropping to her chest. Her breast hung over the cups of her bra for the club’s viewing pleasure. Her dusty pink nipples tightened at the coolness against her warmed skin, at being on display, at the Feline shifter’s appreciative purr.

“Oops,” the Feline shifter murmured, her fingers tracing the cups she’d tugged down.

Her fingers closed around an erect nipple and pinched. Hard. Delicious pain shocked Eden’s senses. She whimpered, and her head dropped back to rest on the woman’s shoulder. The shifter rolled her nipple roughly between her fingers and shoved Eden’s skirt up. Her naked pussy, wet and throbbing, was uncovered for onlookers, an exhibition for the animal shifters to watch. The Feline shifter dragged a finger through her wetness. Eden shuttered.

“What’s your name?” the shifter mumbled.

“Eden.”

“Come with me, Eden.”

The shifter’s hands left her, the hard body against her back moved away, and the shifter gripped her wrist in a firm hold. Before Eden could respond, she was being pulled through the packed bodies. She followed, willing, the desire pulsating through her unbearable. She needed whatever the Feline shifter was going to give her.

The shifter led her into the hallway of secluded rooms. They bypassed the rooms for patron private use, stepped around two male shifters—one bent over, his hands pressed to the wall, the other thrusting into him—and walked straight to the room marked “Employees Only.” The Feline shifter pushed the door open without hesitation and drew Eden into the room behind her, locking the door. She dropped Eden’s wrist, predator gaze holding her in place.

The shifter walked around her in slow measured steps, an animal stalking its prey, hungry and determined. Eden remained still. Anticipation clenched her. Her skin burned for touch. She was prepared to drop to her knees and beg. The shifter sensed her escalating need and pressed herself to Eden’s back again. Her hands ran down Eden’s arms, drew her wrists back…

And the click of handcuffs, the chill of metal against her hot skin, shot icy panic into her veins.

“Wait—”

The shifter shoved her against the desk at the center of the room, cutting off her protests. She stood over her, dominating her, engulfing her in heat.

“I—”

She nipped Eden’s lower lip, another reprimand. “No talking during playtime.”

Her lips hovered over Eden’s, close but not touching. She stared into the shifter’s hard, green eyes. She couldn’t turn away from the scorching gaze. Shifter playtime. The game of dominance and submission. The sexual call that sent them into frenzy.

Eden wanted to play.

The shifter nipped her jaw. Her hands slid over Eden. She molded her full breasts and plucked her nipples. The agonizing throb between her legs returned. Eden pressed her hips to the shifter’s, tried to grind against her to relieve herself. A purr rumbled in the shifter’s throat. She stopped fondling Eden’s breast, gripped her ass, and lifted her onto the desk. Standing between her parted legs, thigh pressed against her pussy, she craned her neck to take one of Eden’s nipples into her warm mouth.

Eden gasped. The harsh sucking, the flicking tongue, the molten desire pouring straight to her center, it was too much. She rocked her hips against the shifter’s thigh, the leather rough against her. Her desire built until she was sure she would combust.

Teeth dug into her nipple, a deep, painful bite. She cried out, but her body refused to cool at the sting. She burned, wanted more, needed more. The shifter lapped at her wounded nipple, sandpaper tongue nursing her. Her licks were slow. The casual motions hardly matched the urgency Eden felt.

She needed this Feline shifter to touch her. Now.

“Please,” Eden moaned.

In a flash, she was flipped, slammed, onto her stomach, bent over the desk with her ass in the air, a hand pressing between her shoulder blades to keep her down. Air knocked from her lungs, she struggled to breathe. The Feline shifter spanked her raised ass.

She growled in Eden’s ear. “No,” spank, “talking,” spank, “during,” spank, “playtime.” One final, sharp spank accented the repeated command.

Eden snapped her mouth shut.

“Good girl.”

Her fingers brushed over her tingling ass, tickled the inside of her thigh, and finally, finally, touched her clit. Eden’s hips jerked, and a moan caught in her clamped lips. She rubbed her gently in circular motions. Eden moved against her, her breathing short gasps. Her body was liquid under the shifter’s touch, but she needed more. She needed her buried inside, stretching her, taking her.

As if she felt her need, she thrust two fingers into her, an aggressive entrance that left Eden gasping for air. The shifter’s teeth sank into her shoulder. The action asserted her dominance over Eden, and she lied pliant in response, spreading her legs wider. Pleased, the shifter purred.

Eden was a good girl.

Her fingers curled inside her, over and over and over. Eden remained still despite her desire to grind into her hand. Submitting.

The fire was excruciating. She was hitting that wonderful spot inside her, making her body burn with each curl of her fingers. The sandpaper tongue massaged her shoulder bite. Eden was going to evaporate.

The shifter grabbed a handful of her blonde hair and yanked her head back. Eden yelped, pain spreading through her scalp and fueling the fire.

“Come for me,” the shifter mumbled.

Her finger moved quicker, rougher, and Eden did just what she commanded. The orgasm hit her hard. She bucked against the shifter’s curling fingers, riding out the intense burst on a cry. When it subsided, she laid there, sated, panting. The shifter’s fingers left her, and she drew away. Eden didn’t move. Unsure of what to do, she waited. Nothing happened for a moment.

And then the shifter grabbed her handcuffed wrists, flipped her around, and slammed her back against the desk. The violent action left her coughing and forced tears to cloud her vision. Through the blur, she could see her enchanted collar dangling from between the Feline shifters fingers. Terror, pure terror, chilled her warm body.

The shifter growled, nose flaring at Eden’s true scent. She slipped a studded dagger from her belt, one each shifter pack gave to their most trusted, most powerful, most dangerous.

A Defender.

“What the fuck are you?”