At Full Sprint (A BBW Shifter Romance) (Last of the Shapeshifters) (17 page)

He watched her as her eyes widened. She began to shake her head. “No, silly! It’s not
that
. Not yet, anyway.” He grinned. “I’m asking you to come away with me. Disappear with me. Let’s go somewhere exotic, or somewhere elegant. Once your article is out there, you’ll be in-demand. Hot property.”

“Miles…”

He kissed her hard then, pulling himself in close, their bodies touching, intertwined. “Come away with me,” he repeated. “I need you. I love you.”

He sensed she tried to fight it momentarily, always playing hard to get! But she relented, and held him back, and she squeezed him hard, and she told him she loved him too.

The words warmed his soul. She was what he would live for now. She was what he would cherish. No more danger, no more speed.

He would no longer take life at full sprint.

He would walk it, and enjoy it.

With her.

“K
eep it on,” Miles told her. He had put the blindfold on her back at their glass house in Bali, and driven her a short distance. “Don’t peek!”

“Miles, this is ridiculous. I’m going to trip and hurt myself.”

“No you won’t.”

Circe slapped her thighs. She had been interrupted while sunbathing on the small private beach behind Miles’ house. It was picturesque. White sand, crystal water, and not a cloud in sight. Just unbelievable. Not only that, but since there was nobody else around, Circe was able to enjoy herself fully, without rogue and dangerous thoughts threatening to ruin her mood.

“Miles, couldn’t we have done this later? I was enjoying my book.”

“It can’t wait,” he said. His voice was full of a deep and rumbling energy. Where on earth could he be taking her?

For nearly two weeks now he had seemed giddy and overexcited. What was supposed to be a relaxing holiday at his Bali beach house turned into him scurrying in and out of the house with ‘things to do’ – Circe had stopped bothering after he had deflected the first few times she asked. She was resigned to simply enjoying herself, enjoying the freedom of a private beach, of luxurious living, and of being on holiday.

She never turned in her article for
Speed
. She forwarded all the notes she had made to Ms. Jennings (the sanitized versions, of course), and had told her that she would no longer be participating in the internship program.

Ms. Jennings had of course been unhappy, but the severe woman’s eyes had twinkled with what looked like understanding. Circe was fairly sure she knew that she and Miles were together.

But that was immaterial as to why Circe quit. She was going to start her own magazine, and she knew what she wanted to write about now, what she wanted to focus on. The paranormal. It was silly, perhaps, would barely turn a profit, but her heart was set on it. She would use it as a means to contact other shapeshifters, and even though Miles wanted no part in that, he had told her he was perfectly fine with her pursuing it.

But, damn it, that was still a long ways off! She was on holiday, sunbathing, tucking into a good book, and Miles had picked her up, practically dragged her to their second-hand four-door Corolla, and refused to take off her blindfold.

“Okay,” he said. “We’re here.” She heard him open a door, and cool, refreshing, conditioned air flooded out to greet her.

“Can I take my blindfold off now?”

“You can.”

Circe pulled it down around her neck, and gasped. “Miles, what is this?” She was standing in a fully-furnished office, big enough or perhaps five people to work comfortably in. On the wall was… was the logo she’d designed!

“Hey!” she cried, pointing to it. “You went through my sketchbook?”

“No,” Miles said. “Definitely not! Well, technically I didn’t go through it. You left it open, so I took a photograph and had the board made.”

Energy and excitement thrilled through her. The logo read
Monster Magazine
, a text-cutout inside an all-black paw-print. She saw at the other end of the office a bookshelf, and it was filled with books of all sizes!

“What the…” She walked over, and read the spines. They were books on legends and myths of shapeshifters, collections of strange sightings… it was all perfect research material.

“You did all of this? That’s where you’ve been going this whole time?”

Miles wipes his hands together. “Yup. Like it?”

She balked. “Of course I do! But Miles… how much did this cost?”

“It’s a gift,” he said, shaking his head. He crossed his thick arms. “You can’t ask that.”

“But I mean, the rent, the-”

“Woah, hold up,” he said, putting up his hands. “I’m not made of money you know. You’re paying the rent, but don’t worry.” He grinned. “It’s dirt cheap.”

“You cheapskate!” she laughed, swinging to slap him but missing. “Miles, I love it.” She looked around. “I’d probably arrange it a little differently, but I love it.”

“That’s not all,” he told her. He pointed at a white door camoflauged in a white wall. “Come through here.”

“There’s more?”

“There’s more.” He took her hand, and led her through the door. Behind it, she saw a digital press.

“Oh my God, you got printers as well?” She cupped her hands.

“Yup,” he said through a grin. “But wait!” He put up a finger. “There’s more!”

“You’re kidding.”

“Nope.” He took her hand again and led her through a set of double doors. She had assumed them to be the fire escape. Instead, they led into a garage where she saw an unmarked van, and loading equipment.

“For distribution,” he told her. “We’re not far from the post office, too, for your subscribers. If you don’t want to use them, two blocks down there are couriers which are reliable and which handle magazine subscriptions.”

“Oh, Miles,” she whispered. She touched his face. “But I haven’t even started the magazine yet.”

“You’ve got no excuse not to start it now. It’s something you want, right? You told me once that it was your dream.”

Circe nodded.

“And anyway, stuff out here is cheap. If you wanted an office in London… well, that might be a bit trickier.”

“I don’t,” she said. “I love it here.”

“You can walk to work, too. It’s not far.”

“But I don’t have any employees. I don’t even know how to
use
the press!”

Miles reeled her into his arms. “Then learn, babe. Follow it. Don’t let it slip away because you were too daunted. I’ll help you. Hire me, pay me an honest wage for honest work…”

She pinched him. “You’re joking.”

“Maybe,” he conceded.

“Thank you, Cheat.”

“It’s not ‘Cheat’ anymore. I don’t like that name.”

“Thank you, Miles. And for a moment there I thought you were about to propose to me.”

He guffawed. “Propose? Where would you get an idea like that?”

Circe rubbed his chest, felt its hard shape beneath his tight t-shirt. “Oh, I don’t know. Something about you needing me?”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

Circe clapped her hands together and walked back into the main office, with Miles in tow. “So what now, Miles?”

He looked at her and shrugged. “Shall we get started?”

*

To: Circe Cole

From: Caleb Siroccos

Dear Ms. Cole,

My wife and I have been following Monster Magazine since your first issue in June. We would like to congratulate you on putting together such a grounded and well-presented publication on paranormal phenomenon on Earth. Your articles in particular are extremely interesting. The quality of journalism is top notch, free of the usual conspiracy-theory trappings that so many similar publications fall victim to.

Recently, in your third issue, the August edition, you spoke of the extinct Bali tiger, and a rogue sighting in Cape Town, South Africa some forty years ago. You wrote:

‘One eye-witness, who refused to disclose his identity, recounted the tale where a Bali tiger attacked a wolf. Both species would be odd sights in the city of Cape Town, let alone South Africa itself.’

That is certainly an interesting story, and one which you may (or may not) be surprised to know is entirely one-hundred-percent true.

I was that tiger. I am a shapeshifter.

My wife Anastasia (also a shapeshifter) and I would like to arrange an interview with you. Just you. Nobody else. We feel it is time we announced our existence to a skeptical world. Should you agree, we will be joined by four other shapeshifters, two couples.

The interview will be limited in scope, but should earn your magazine a lot of prestige in the time being. We intend to touch on the topics of: our history; our current existence; our near-extinction; and, lastly, our recent discovery that some humans may be candidates for the shift.

I trust that last part will catch your attention. If not, let me word it a little differently. Two of the four shapeshifters who will be joining Ana and I, two young women, were not shapeshifters just one month ago.

We found a way to turn them!

I hope you will remain open-minded and give us the benefit of the doubt. Trust us, and you’ll put your budding magazine and name on the global map.

I would appreciate it if you replied with your thoughts quickly – we are eager to go public, and will choose the first person we can if we cannot choose the only person we want – you.

I look forward to hearing from you soon.

Sincerely,

Caleb Siroccos

*

Circe blinked, and read the email over one more time. They had found a way to turn a human into a shapeshifter…

She took a deep breath, and then clicked on the ‘reply’ button.

When and where?

To this reader,

Please let me thank you for reading (hopefully! *gulp*) this novella. I hope you enjoyed the story, or at the very least, I hope you didn't
not
enjoy it.

I'm a bit like Circe in that I've been exposed to a lot of Formula One racing, though I am not a huge fan of it. 
I do, however, have rather fond memories of my father, who is a great fan. He did, and still does, plonk his behind down in front of the telly on F1 weekends, and he simply refuses to move until it's all over, and somebody is spraying champagne on a podium. I've spent a lot of time watching over his shoulder.

The drivers have always held my attention more than the racing itself. The threat of a crash and of death is a very real one, and I am sad to say I have watched live on television two drivers die in accidents while seated behind my father.

I'm always amazed that there are people on this planet who willingly risk their lives every single day. Some in the name of public service, like firefighters and the police, and some for more elusive and ethereal reasons, like race car drivers, and other thrill-seeking athletes. Simply watching a skydiver makes my insides shrivel up in dread and fear.

Cat shifters are an interesting topic for me. It is perhaps difficult, outside of the brutish mane of a lion, or the sheer size and girth of a tiger, for big cats to convey a sense of masculinity. Doubly so for the smaller variants, like leopards, cheetahs, and panthers. The cat is a decidedly feminine form, and that the word 'feline' holds the double meaning it does today speaks to that.

I find Miles to be an interesting man in that regard. He always acts from a place of emotion, and lacks the cold, dispassionate quality that I associate more with wolf shifters, and possibly bear shifters, too. I spent a great deal of time watching cheetahs run (in documentaries, of course) as I penned this novella, and though it is almost always in the pursuit of prey, I cannot shake the sensation that they simply
love running fast
. The cheetah, resting, lazing beneath the bough of a leafless tree, taking shelter in what little shade it offers, always looks to be a cheetah that wants to set off at full sprint sprint at a moment's notice.

This is, of course, me anthropomorphizing the beautiful creatures, and projecting my own personality onto them.

But the still cheetah seems the odd cat out, doesn't it?

It makes me wonder, then, how Miles will fair, now that he is no longer sprinting. Now that he is still, and in the shade of the bough of a stable, relationship-oriented life. He is dedicated to Circe. He has replaced his racing, and as he hints at, his shifting, with her.

But will it last forever? I'm not sure. After all, it is difficult for a person to change so entirely. Like Circe will never give up her professional pursuits, I wonder if Miles will ever truly give up his love of speed, of a fast (and often dangerous) life.

Right! That's enough of my rambling. Better get away from the keyboard before I embarrass myself. Please leave a review if you enjoyed the book. Please contact me at any time for any reason. Please sign up for my newsletter if you would be interested in my future releases.