Deep Shift

DEEP SHIFT SCARED SHIFTLESS BOOK 1 ARIEL DAWN MARGO BOND COLLINS CONTENTS About Shift Happens Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24 Chapter 25 Epilogue About the Authors Join the Authors Online More Books by the Authors ABOUT SHIFT HAPPENS Sometimes, when you least expect it, Shift Happens… Detective Wesley Anne Kane has been after mad scientist turned hybrid shifter Ivan Cambridge since the day she became infected with the shifter virus. As CEO of WolfBane, Inc., Ivan has been nearly untouchable, hiding behind his army of hybrids. But Wes is determined to stop him, no matter what he throws her direction. Real estate manager Reed Owens, on the other hand, has no idea that shifters even exist—until he comes face-to-face with the jaws of an angry beast during what was supposed to be a routine check-up on a property owned by his new boss, Ivan Cambridge. When Reed contracts the incurable Hybrid Shifter Virus just days before the full moon, Wes will have to step in to keep Reed safe or risk Ivan’s plans coming to fruition. But if Wes and Reed aren't careful, their connection could be the very thing that destroys them both. When the shift hits the fan, they’ll either learn to work together—or die together. CHAPTER 1 WESLEY ANNE KANE I hate the smell of the coffee in the office. Every morning I get up extra early just so I can go through the drive-through and get half-decent coffee that actually smells like coffee instead of the ever-burning sludge my boss tries to pass off as something digestible to me and the other detectives. It’s the little things you need to start the day off being productive, but that’s just me. Not everyone is as attentive to smells as I am, because I’m a wolf. It comes with the territory, and it makes me really good at my job. I’ve always been about the details, since I was a kid. I make my way through the tiny, messy pens past the other semi-awake detectives, who are happy with their barely passable coffee to my desk where my partner, Shane, sits; glued to his computer screen, his shoulders hunched and eyes narrowed. “Morning, Roberts.” I take a chair from next to my desk and settle down. Shane doesn’t even blink. I wave my hand in front of him. “What the hell, Wes?” He swats at me as if suddenly realizing it’s six in the morning and the day is actually beginning. “How long have you been there?” I ask as he runs his hands over his face. He looks pretty rough, and I know without him having to answer he’s likely been there all night. One of the reasons Shane and I get along so well is because we’re both workaholics—we know it’s probably not healthy, but we also know it’s how we’re both wired. We also know it’s better to maintain some illusion of control than to acknowledge the truth. “Long enough.” He reaches for my coffee, but I hold it just beyond his reach. “Get your own, mooch.” “Come on, Wes,” he groans. “No.” I look over at the screen as I take a sip, and instantly I understand his fixation. We’ve been tracking a dangerous hybrid for the last month. Although most shifters are still more human than animal, some insist on letting their animal rule. Especially the hybrids, considered the lowest of all the shifter classes. That kind of thinking, that kind of behavior, leads to chaos. And there’s nothing I hate more than chaos. These rogue shifters are bad enough. Hybrid shifters have more raw power, less control, and a tendency to attack unprovoked. But the absolute worst are the rogue hybrids, who develop control–-and a following. I have more than enough experience dealing with rowdy, pissy shifters who think they’re God’s gift to the fucking planet. And it doesn’t help that all too often humans fall victim to their schemes. It’s always easier to put your trust, your faith in someone you think has more power than you, and that’s exactly what some of these assholes feed on. Like Ivan Cambridge, the head of WolfBane. A pain-in-the-ass collective of said chaos-enforcers whose only job in life, as far as I can tell, is to make mine a living hell. We’d come so close to catching Ivan on multiple accounts, but the man seems to always be one step ahead. “I got a tip last night, around eleven-thirty,” Shane casts his chocolate eyes at me, and I note the tiny creases at the corners. He’s only thirty-two-years-old, not that much older than I am—but damn if this job doesn’t age the hell out of you if you aren’t careful. Thankfully, I manage my stress slightly better than Shane. Because all I have is me, myself and I. Shane has a wife and four kids. He’s also one-hundred percent human. Gray hairs and lines are inevitable for him. “And?” I practically push him out of the way to peer at the computer screen. “And last I saw him, he was walking into an abandoned building on East Street around three a.m.. He hasn’t come out since.” The corners of his lips lift with challenge and promise. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” I can’t help the giddiness in my voice. Nothing gets my caffeinated blood flowing quite like arresting an asshole at six in the morning. “Aww, Wesley, I thought you’d never ask,” Shane teases. “Do we need to run it by the boss first?” He looks around the room, his voice a low whisper. “You’re just following up on a lead. No need to get her involved if it turns out to be nothing,” I say. Shane catches my drift.