Shifter Sisters: Sex and the Single Werewolf Read online

  Shifter Sisters: Sex and the Single Werewolf

  Sierra Dafoe

  All rights reserved.

  Copyright ©2007 Sierra Dafoe

  Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.

  ISBN: 978-1-59596-662-9

  Formats Available:

  HTML, Adobe PDF,

  MobiPocket, Microsoft Reader

  Publisher:

  Changeling Press LLC

  PO Box 1046

  Martinsburg, WV 25402-1046

  www.ChangelingPress.com

  Editor: Chrissie Henderson

  Cover Artist: Bryan Keller

  This e-book file contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language which some may find offensive and which is not appropriate for a young audience. Changeling Press E-Books are for sale to adults, only, as defined by the laws of the country in which you made your purchase. Please store your files wisely, where they cannot be accessed by under-aged readers.

  Shifter Sisters: Sex and the Single Werewolf

  Sierra Dafoe

  One’s a canine. One’s a cat. And one’s a vampire who hates the sight of blood. Together they’re the Shifter Sisters, a hard-rocking band of misfits who stand by each other when the chips are down -- no matter how much the fur might fly the rest of the time!

  Luna, the band’s drummer and a werewolf by birth, has a talent for hooking up with men who only let her down. But she never gives up hope or her faith in romance, and when a sweet, sexy stranger catches her eye, Lu is convinced she’s finally found The One.

  But how are you supposed to land the man of your dreams when you really do turn into a bitch at “that time of the month”? And can you ever find true love while hiding half of who you are?

  Chapter One

  The stage lights beat down. Everything beyond them was a haze. Lu’s sticks blurred on the drums as she drove the beat behind Tori’s bass line. She lived for this, the rhythm pounding in her blood, her body totally immersed in the needs of the music, her mind disengaged, floating, silent…

  Man, she loved it when they did Melissa Etheridge with Tori’s strong contralto belting out the lyrics and Persia filling in riffs on the keyboard. The audience stomped, whistled, and burst into applause as Tori brought the song to a close.

  “Thank you! Thank you, everyone!”

  Lu’s leather wristbands kept her hands pretty dry, but the sweat was rolling into her eyes, stinging. She shook her head sharply, sending beads of sweat flying, then paused to push her shaggy brown hair back from her face -- and saw Persia sidle out from behind the keyboard, sliding the strap of her bubblegum-pink Stratocaster over her head.

  Oh, Christ. Here we go again.

  Sure enough, the all too familiar rockabilly riff sang out through the smoky nightclub. Lu scowled at Tori who rolled her eyes resignedly before picking up the bass line. Sighing her exasperation, Lu picked up her sticks as Persia moved to the center mike and launched, for the gazillionth time, into the Stray Cats’ signature song.

  “I don’t bother chasing mice around…”

  Persia’s breathy, Marilyn-esque purr invariably got on Lu’s last nerve. That shit was tired three decades ago -- but damned if the guys in the crowd didn’t still lap it up, wolf-whistling and cheering as Persia strutted and preened, her curvy little body jiggling in all the right places.

  Those same men falling all over the platinum-blonde sex kitten never seemed to notice her, Luna thought. Well, the hell with them, anyway. Not every guy in the world was intimidated by her height, or her bulging drummer’s biceps. Some guys even liked them.

  Rick, for example.

  Lu could feel herself grinning like an idiot, but she didn’t care. While one part of her mind kept the beat moving behind Persia’s baby-doll croon, the rest was busy picturing Rick’s naked body, with his weightlifter’s arms that made hers look downright scrawny, his broad, ripped torso and thick, insistent cock.

  Oh, yeah. That man could fuck like a steam train. And if she was lucky…

  Tori’s warning glance brought her back to the present, and Lu realized abruptly she was lagging behind on the beat. Turning her attention back to her kit, Lu dropped to a simple two-click while Persia pinched out a half-assed guitar solo.

  Jesus! Why couldn’t she just stick to the keyboards, for Christ’s sake? Not that the crowd seemed to care, Lu thought sourly. She’d seen Persia wrap men around her little finger so tight it was a wonder they didn’t squeak. And there she was, at it again, rolling her shoulders and fluttering her lashes, letting go of the guitar long enough to trail a hand down her plump little thigh as she sang the last chorus.

  Finally.

  Lu brought her sticks down with a crash, then flipped them to feather out a hiss on the high hat as the male portion of the audience, at least, roared its approval. Persia winked and threw them a kiss as Tori stepped back up to the microphone.

  “Thank you! We’re the Shifter Sisters, everybody! Thank you and good night!”

  The stage lights went out. Lu reached for her sports bottle and squirted water down the back of her neck as Tori started unplugging cords and Persia, characteristically, wandered down off the stage to be swallowed immediately by a throng of fans.

  “There she goes again.” Luna nodded toward the crowd.

  “God damn it!” The raven-haired bass player looked up in exasperation. “Persia!”

  Persia glanced back, waved airily, and disappeared toward the bar. Tori scowled after her, her hands propped on her slender hips. “Well, she better come back for her keyboard. I am not lugging that damn thing out to the van for her again.”

  “Yeah,” Lu snorted, “you always say that.” Ignoring Tori’s glare, she stood, stretched, and wiped the sweat from her neck before starting to break down her kit.

  By the time she had her drums and cymbals packed away in their cases, the house lights were on and Persia had returned with a trio of burly, grinning college boys she’d recruited to haul her equipment for her. They carried everything out to the dock and loaded the keyboard and mike stands into the van as Persia flounced, managing to look incapable of carrying so much as a microphone. Disgusted, Lu muscled her drums into the van by herself while the boys hovered around Persia like bees around honeysuckle.

  More fools they if they think she’ll even give them the time of day.

  Lu grinned. Persia was like one of those hair-loss commercials -- always promising way more than she ever delivered. But, just like the faux products the commercials advertised, the men kept buying, and buying…

  What the hell was it about that damn chubby blonde, anyway? Not that she’d ever want to be like Persia! Yeech. The very thought made her hackles stand up. But still…

  Lu sighed. It’d be nice to have a guy falling all over her like that.

  Tori shoved her Fender’s case behind the seat, looked over at Persia with a grimace, and turned back to Lu. “You coming?”

  “No, I, uh… I think I’ll walk home.”

  Tori raised an eyebrow, then glanced out at the moonlight pouring down just beyond the loading dock. “You sure? It’s kind of late.”

  Lu shrugged. “It’s not that late. Besides, I’ll strangle her if I come home now.”

  “Be my guest,” Tori muttered, slamming the back doors of the van shut. “Persia!”

  Persia neatly sidestepped her eager entourage as Tori slid behind the wheel of the van and ducked into the passenger’s seat. She waved gaily to the
boys as the van pulled out. “Goodnight, sweeties!”

  They waved back, grinning -- too dumb, in Lu’s opinion, to even resent being used. Jesus!

  Disgusted, she turned on her heel and walked away.

  * * *

  Twenty minutes later, Lu stood on the sidewalk outside Rick’s building, looking up. His apartment was on the third floor. The windows were dark, and Lu hesitated, arguing with herself.

  C’mon, Lu, he’s in bed already. And you were the one who told him you couldn’t come over. Besides, you’ve only been seeing each other for three weeks -- that’s hardly long enough to go showing up at a man’s door in the middle of the night.

  Yeah, but what if he wanted company? And he’d sounded disappointed on the phone when she’d told him she was busy. Besides, nothing ventured, nothing gained, right?

  But the entire building was absolutely silent around her as she climbed the stairs. The long third-floor hallway was almost pitch black. Luna stood outside Rick’s apartment door, her heart pounding in her chest. Hesitantly, she raised her hand, tapped once lightly, then cursed herself for a coward.

  C’mon, if you’re going to knock, then knock, damn it!

  She rapped harder, and the door swung open. She stared down at it blankly. It must not have been latched all the way -- she hadn’t knocked that hard. Stepping into the darkened living room, she whispered nervously, “Rick?”

  Soft silver moonlight trickled from the window in the narrow hall leading to his bedroom. Ahead of her she could hear low, murmuring noises. The TV must be on -- which meant he was awake.

  A slow, lazy warmth unfolded between Lu’s thighs as she imagined him, propped up against the pillows, his hard torso gleaming in the light of the TV. Smiling, she padded to his door, and paused as she heard a low moan.

  A distinctly feminine moan.

  Ah, shit.

  Maybe he’s watching porn, Lu thought frantically. Maybe he’s in there, lying in bed with his hand wrapped around his cock, thinking of me and watching porn…

  Yeah, right. She should leave. Right now. She knew it. But instead she pushed open the bedroom door.

  There was a hand gliding up and down his shaft -- the only problem was, it wasn’t Rick’s. His were busy plunging themselves, fore and aft, between a pair of soft, widespread thighs. The woman lying beneath him craned her neck up, engulfing the tip of his cock with her lips as she rubbed the shaft eagerly, not even stopping when Rick lifted his head from between her thighs, saw Lu in the doorway, and froze with one finger deep in Blowjob Girl’s rectum.

  Lu stared, feeling her heart drop like an elevator in freefall -- cable snapped, overrides failed, passengers screaming all the way down…

  Congratulations, Lu. You sure know how to pick ’em.

  God damn it! She turned abruptly in the doorway, and heard Rick lurch from the bed behind her. “Lu? Lu, wait a second!”

  In the hallway, she paused, biting back tears as Rick stumbled out of the bedroom, his broad naked body outlined in moonlight. “Lu, it’s not what you think. She’s just an old girlfriend, baby, she doesn’t mean anything to me --”

  An outraged shriek from the bedroom greeted his words.

  “It’s not what I think, huh?” Lu laughed bitterly, turning to face him, feeling fury start to simmer somewhere under her heartbreak. “What I think, Romeo, is that you couldn’t keep it in your pants for one single night.”

  “Look, Lu, she just showed up; it’s not like I invited her here!”

  Lu could feel her nostrils flaring. “What do you think, I’m stupid? Or do you just not know the word no?”

  “Lu…”

  “Forget it. Just forget it.” Whirling away, she stormed toward the door, wanting desperately to break something.

  “God damn it, Lu!”

  Coming up behind her, Rick grabbed her arm. As his hand closed on her biceps, the rage inside her boiled over in one blinding rush.

  Oh, shit.

  Some small part of her mind watched, horrified as her control snapped like a twig. Looking down, Lu saw black, silky hair spread like wildfire down her muscled arms, felt the talons spring out with an almost audible snap.

  Shit oh shit oh shit…

  With a desperate heave, she tore herself from his grasp, threw open the door, and fled into the blessed darkness of the hall.

  Naked, Rick stormed out after her. “Damn it, Lu, talk to me!”

  Silence greeted him, and disgusted, he turned back toward his apartment. “Fine. Be that way. Goddamn insecure bitch.”

  A growl rumbled out of the darkness.

  “Lu?” Rick froze, peering uncertainly into the darkness. “Yeah, real cute, Lu. Go fuck yourself.”

  The growl rose to a snarl.

  Rick blanched, then threw back his shoulders in typical masculine bravado. “Oh, give me a break, you fucking psycho cunt!”

  At that, something lunged out of the darkness, roaring straight at him in a whirlwind of flashing teeth and fur, and Rick’s eyes widened in sudden terror. “Shit!”

  He bolted for his apartment, stumbled in his haste, landed heavily on one knee, threw himself forward -- and screamed as ivory-white fangs chomped down on his naked butt.

  Chapter Two

  Wearily, Lu pushed open the door of the apartment she shared with Persia and Tori. Persia was sprawled on the white sofa, simultaneously leafing through a magazine and painting her toenails a revolting fuchsia pink. Without looking up from the page, she said, “Hey, Lu. Here’s one for you. ‘Top Ten Signs You Really Do Turn into a Bitch at That Time of the Month’.”

  “Oh, go shred a rug, Persia.”

  Smirking, Persia glanced up at Lu -- and vaulted straight into the air. The nail polish went flying, spraying across the white cushions. Magazines tumbled from the sofa as she tore back and forth across the room, shrieking at the top of her lungs, “Red alert! Red alert!”

  Tori ran in from the kitchen, her hands still in oven mitts. “Jesus! What?”

  Flinging out an arm, Persia pointed at Lu, standing with her clothes in tatters and her face spattered with blood.

  “Red alert! Red alert! Red alert!”

  Her screeches drilled through Lu’s skull, which was already pounding. Simultaneously, she and Tori both snapped, “Persia, shut up!”

  Persia froze mid-shriek. Slitting her sapphire-blue eyes at them, she sniffed. “Well, if you’re going to be that way about it…”

  With a huff, she turned toward the hallway, but Tori blocked her exit. “Uh-uh, Per. Not till you clean this mess up.”

  “What?” Persia stared in utter disbelief. “It wasn’t me! If she hadn’t burst in here, dripping in blood --”

  Tori pulled off the oven mitts and slapped them down on the coffee table. “I don’t care. It’s your nail polish. You clean it up. Now, before it sets.”

  With a look of complete disgust, Persia stalked back to the sofa, knelt down beside it, and made a great show of dabbing desultorily at the mess with a handful of Kleenex. Tori folded her arms. “Fine, but if I have to get it cleaned professionally, it’s coming out of your pay.”

  Sulking, Persia pushed back to her feet and headed for the bathroom for cleaning supplies. As soon as she left the room, Tori turned to Lu and asked quietly, “Well? Is it a red alert?”

  Lu slumped back against the apartment door and shook her head. “I don’t think so. The hall was pretty dark…” Then she laughed bitterly. “Besides, what guy is really gonna believe the chick he’s been nailing is a werewolf?”

  Tori raised an eyebrow. “Are we going to be seeing this on the evening news?”

  “What’s to see?” Lu shrugged. “‘Man bit in ass by rabid dog -- film at eleven.’”

  Persia, just coming back in with a bucket and bottle of Pine-Sol, stopped short. “You bit him in the ass?” Her eyes widened with something that might have been respect. “Well, I guess being a dog’s good for something.” She plumped back to her knees by the couch and started scrubbing.

&n
bsp; “I told you it was too late to be out,” Tori scolded, bending to pick up the scattered magazines.

  “C’mon, Tor! It’s four days till full moon. I would have been fine, if…”

  “If what?” Tori checked, looking at Lu warily.

  It was Persia who answered, shrugging her soft little shoulders. “If he hadn’t cheated on her, duh. Get a clue, Victoria.”

  “Stay out of this, Per. And I thought we agreed to give ‘Stray Cat Strut’ a rest.”

  “But Tori, it’s my trademark!” Persia wailed.

  Tori ignored her. “So is that what happened?” Lu nodded. Sighing, Tori sank into one of the armchairs and reached for a cigarette.

  Luna watched her with an admiration that stopped just short of envy. Persia might radiate sex like a cat shedding fur, but Tori was stunning. Tall and statuesque, with alabaster skin that glowed beneath her raven-black hair, and cool gray eyes that looked out at the world with far more experience than any one woman should have.

  She herself was just big. Big and gangly. Rawboned, one short-lived fling had called her -- shoulders way too broad for any proper human female, arms corded with muscle, shaggy brown hair that invariably hung in her eyes… She did have boobs though, dammit. Even if she did tend to hide them under flannel shirts and overalls.

  It was Tori who’d found her, homeless and lost, and taken her under her wing, just as she’d adopted Persia. It was Tori, too, who booked their shows, dealt with the club owners, and handled the cash. Lu would have given just about anything to make her smile.

  But that was the one thing Tori almost never did.

  As the tears she’d suppressed all the way home started welling up, Lu dropped heavily to a seat on the ottoman. “God! Is there a man alive who doesn’t cheat?”

  “No,” said Persia, just as Tori said, “Yes.” Tori glared, then stubbed out her cigarette. “Of course there is, honey. You just…”

  “…have to stop picking losers,” Persia interjected snidely. She threw her hands up before Tori could protest. “I know! I know! I’m going.”