Entangled Interaction Read online

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Note from the Publisher

  Dedication

  Trademarks Acknowledgement

  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

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Titles by Cheyenne Meadows

  Reviews

  A Silver Publishing Book

  Entangled Interaction

  Copyright © 2013 by Cheyenne Meadows

  E-book ISBN: 9781622320523

  First E-book Publication: September 2013

  Cover design by Reese Dante

  Editor: Jason Huffman

  Logo copyright © 2012 by Silver Publishing

  Licensed material is being used for illustrative purposes only. Any person depicted in the licensed material is a model.

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission. This book cannot be copied in any format, sold, or otherwise transferred from your computer to another through upload to a file sharing peer to peer program, for free or for a fee, or as a prize in any contest. Such action is illegal and in violation of the U.S. Copyright Law. Distribution of this e-book, in whole or in part, online, offline, in print or in any way or any other method currently known or yet to be invented, is forbidden.

  All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.

  If you see "free shares" offered or cut-rate sales of this title on pirate sites, you can report the offending entry to [email protected].

  This book is written in US English.

  PUBLISHER

  www.SPSilverPublishing.com

  Note from the Publisher

  Dear Reader,

  Thank you for your purchase of this title. The authors and staff of Silver Publishing hope you enjoy this read and that we will have a long and happy association together.

  Please remember that the only money authors make from writing comes from the sales of their books. If you like their work, spread the word and tell others about the books, but please refrain from sharing this book in any form. Authors depend on sales and sales only to support their families.

  If you see "free shares" offered or cut-rate sales of this title on pirate sites, you can report the offending entry to [email protected].

  Thank you for not pirating our titles.

  Lodewyk Deysel

  Publisher

  Silver Publishing

  http://www.spsilverpublishing.com

  Dedication

  For Tiffany who nudged me into writing, gave me confidence, advice, and has been a terrific friend and cheerleader. I owe much of this series to you.

  For Pitor and Paxa. Thank you both for making my life shine, my storyline better, and for the continual support. I also owe much of this series to you.

  For Edward. A great friend and critique partner. Thank you for all the advice, encouragement, and suggestions, not to mention all the manuscripts you've taken time to read and edit for me. You're an angel.

  For those at LOS fan fiction site where I began my writing journey. Thank you for reading my storyline, for your positive comments, and gentle pushes to write professionally. Without all the friends and positive experiences there, I would never have made it this far.

  Trademarks Acknowledgement

  The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:

  Aqua Velva: Combe Incorporated

  Bambi: Disney Enterprises, Inc.

  Beano: Prism CH Holdings Inc.

  Buffy: Twentieth Century Fox Film Corporation

  Bugs Bunny and Daffy Duck: Time Warner Entertainment Company, L.P. American Television and Communications Corporation

  Charmin: The Proctor & Gamble Company

  Dr. Oz: Oz Property Holdings, LLC

  Dr. Phil: Peteski Productions, Inc.

  Energizer Bunny: Eveready Battery Company, Inc.

  Final Jeopardy! / Jeopardy!: Jeopardy Productions, Inc. dba Merv Griffin Enterprises

  Fortune 500: Time Inc.

  Google: Google Inc.

  Hello Kitty: Sanrio Company, Ltd.

  Hershey's kisses: Hershey Chocolate & Confectionery Corporation

  Jerry Springer: Universal TV LLC

  Playboy: Playboy Enterprises International Inc.

  Popsicle: Unilever United States

  Red Cross: The American National Red Cross

  Shrek: DreamWorks Animation LLC

  Superman: DC Comics E.C. Publications, Inc.

  Taser: TASER International, Inc.

  Twilight Zone: CBS Broadcasting Inc.

  Twinkies: Hostess Brands, Inc.

  Wild Kingdom: Mutual of Omaha Insurance Company

  Wizard of Oz / Lollipop Guild: Turner Entertainment Co.

  Wonder Woman: DC Comics E.C. Publications, Inc. / Warner Communications Inc.

  Chapter 1

  I stood up, arching my back to stretch out stiff muscles. Weeding the garden and flower beds might not be considered exercise, but obviously no one mentioned that to my protesting body. The unusually warm early spring day cajoled even the most homebound person out into the bright warm sunshine.

  "What's that on your legs?" Bas asked from the nearby front porch. He'd slept in that morning after coming in quite late from another assignment. Yet his short black hair fell perfectly into place, and his snug fitting T-shirt and jeans outlined his impressive body without a single wrinkle or speck of lint.

  Bas carried black panther genetics and worked for the same company as I did. The Peace Protection Division. While I held a gopher position, otherwise known as an executive assistant, Bas worked in the special ops area of the Enforcers. We'd run into one another a few times and clicked as friends. After a particularly violent skirmish, he showed up wounded at my house. I cared for him and fed him. Like a true stray cat, he stayed. Bas adopted me. Or, more accurately, we adopted each other. Though late to the role, he embraced big brotherhood with enthusiasm and dedication, playing the part of protector, advisor, and instigator to the max.

  Looking down, I stared at the said extremities, searching frantically for anything crawly and icky. My faded pink cloth shorts covered everything from mid-thigh up. Bare skin existed from that point to my matching pink socks and shoes.

  Not finding anything, I turned my attention back to him. "Huh? I don't see anything." Bending over, I did another quick appraisal, just in case.

  He shook his head and pointed. "Is that hair?"

  I scrunched my face into a frown and glanced back at him. "Yeah, so? You have hair on your legs too. It's natural. It's a mammal thing, you know."

  A couple of long strides later, he navigated the front porch steps to stand at the edge of the flowerbed I currently stood in.

  His brow arched, his arms crossed over his chest before he asked, "Defense mechanism against men?"

  I blinked. "What? No. I'm not trying to scare men away by having hairy legs. Jeez."

  "Then why haven't you shaved?"

  I shrugged. Who knew a couple of weeks without using a razor would stir up s
uch issues. "I've been busy. Besides, it's not like anyone is going to see them." His mouth opened, but I talked over him. "Don't worry. Before I dare wear shorts in public, I'll shave. I'm not entirely a slob."

  "When will that be?"

  "I don't know. When we run out of food or cleaning items, I guess."

  "No. That's not what I meant." He shifted his weight, those dark eyes piercing into mine. "I meant, when are you going to get back to trying to curry men's attention and actually date one?"

  I had managed to deflect this conversation for the past couple of weeks. Now, the obstinate brother had me trapped and appeared determined to grill me about hairy legs and lack of a man in my life. Just what I wanted to deal with… not.

  I bent back over, wrapping my fingers around a henbit weed, and began to tug it out of the ground. Maybe if I ignored the overgrown housecat…

  "Shyanne." The name rumbled in warning from his chest, sending the hairs on the back of my neck standing at attention.

  "Overbearing mule," I muttered under my breath.

  "I heard that."

  "I meant for you to." With a sigh, I stood up again, deciding avoiding this conversation fell into the impossible category. "Look. I'm not sure what I want or where I stand with Meat."

  "Call him."

  "I tried." Goodness knows I'd tried. Initially, I stared at the phone, then would punch in part of his number before hanging up. After forty-eight hours, I gathered enough courage up to dial his cell number; each time it rolled over to phone voice mail. I left three messages over a two day period of time. That was just over seven days ago, and I still hadn't heard from him.

  Bas uncrossed his arms, his gaze flicked across the front yard before settling back on me. "It's time you move on. I believe the saying goes 'there are other fish in the sea.'" He spoke quietly and gently, yet the message came across like a bulldozer.

  "Yeah, well. Easier said than done." I turned to gingerly step over emerging tulips and day lilies to the next section of weeds. I went about my task, hoping my silence would drive my meddlesome brother away. Unfortunately, luck had abandoned me long ago.

  With the fragile peace between humans, vampires, and shifters on a slippery fence, the leaders of all groups came together years ago and created the Peace Protection Division. Enforcers were hired from all varieties of genetic carrying people in order to crack down on inter-species violence. Wills, my husband, also an Enforcer with the PPD, died in the line of duty. For four long years, the company listed him as MIA, leaving me hanging without closure. Until one night, the local vampire king told me the truth. My husband was gone. Forever. I, Shyanne McDaniel, became a widow at the ripe old age of twenty-five.

  After Wills' MIA status, I was devastated, being left with newborn twin sons. With great support and encouragement, I managed to pull my life back together and make steps forward, including enrolling in college classes. A research paper for psychology class on human interaction sent me stumbling into a strip club. There, I met Meat, a liger alpha shifter and the new man in my life. Ten days ago, I blurted out some information I had overheard in a private conversation, which put me on a vampire's menu, a female shifter's death list, and sent my boyfriend, the second man I ever loved, packing.

  "You might want to shave those legs. There's a box with a new dress on your bed. Be ready by six." He spun and began to walk back toward the house.

  I sputtered in shock. "What? Wait. What did you say?"

  He paused long enough to turn around and flash a wicked grin, full of fang and mischief. "Don't be late. We're going out on the town, and you don't want people to think you're a rag mop, right?"

  Before I could protest, he disappeared.

  "Dang meddling brother." I mumbled to myself as I checked my watch. Wonderful. He gave me a whole two hours warning.

  I stepped clumsily from the flowerbed and headed toward the front porch, consoling myself with thoughts of Bas, catnip, and pushing him into koi ponds.

  * * * *

  An hour and a half later, I stood before the full-length mirror and decided my adopted brother would not only be swimming in the koi pond, but I might have to stock a few piranhas before shoving him in.

  The little black dress certainly lived up to its billing. Little. The upper portion fit just snug enough to whisper of curves and angles. The cleavage dipped low, blatantly teasing and hinting at what lay just beneath the soft material. Finally, the mid-thigh length skirt flared out, allowing for easy leg movement.

  Bending over, I slipped one foot into the matching black flats. There were a pair of three-inch heels in the box, but I quickly discarded that notion. I wanted to actually be able to walk without ending up in the ER for a fractured ankle. While in that position, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror and made a startling discovery. Attaining such a bent over state would give every person in range more than an eyeful of Shy parts. My boobs threatened to spill out, while the skirt rode up enough to flash my hot pink bikini bottoms. If I dropped anything on the floor someone else would just have to pick it up in my stead. Otherwise, I'd be on total display like a Playboy centerfold during her photo session.

  The dress served one purpose. Meat market night at the dance club.

  I would rather face a hungry vampire than to go clubbing. Toss in this slinky dress, and I preferred to face a whole horde of the fangy blood slurpers.

  "You ready?" Bas called from the threshold of my bedroom.

  I spun around and snorted. "I can't wear this. I feel like I'm auditioning for Hugh Hefner in this thing."

  A wide amused smile appeared on his face. "You're such a dramatic." He chuckled as he stepped closer, holding out one of my necklaces.

  I quickly took it and snapped it into place. The silver reflected light while drawing attention to my endowment. "I don't think I'm ready for this." The words came out whispery and unsteady.

  He wrapped me in a tight embrace, allowing me to rest my head on his broad chest. "You can't convent yourself here like a gnarled old hobbit."

  I much preferred being a turtle, sticking my head back inside my shell when faced with going out again. My heart still bled, and my self-esteem ranked at an all-time low.

  "Hobbits are lucky," I grumbled against his chest.

  He snorted against my recently curled hair. "They live in caves with bats and dank conditions. I'm not sure, but I think they even eat bugs."

  I drew back to look up into his face. "I can do the cave thing. Caves have a constant temperature year round. I would just have to supply some amenities. And, hey, bats produce bat poop. You collect it and sell it as fertilizer. Extra income."

  "And the bugs?"

  I shrugged. "Exterminator?"

  He chuckled, gave me a squeeze, then tugged me to the door.

  "Come on, hobbit. We have an appointment with the real world."

  The boys met me at the bottom of the stairs. Jessica stood behind them with a wide grin on her face. I rolled my eyes, knowing she bore some responsibility for the skimpy dress I wore.

  "Mommy. Pretty."

  I ruffled Sasha's hair. "Thank you."

  "Uncle Bas and you going on date?" Chance looked up at me, his little brows furrowing.

  "Umm. No, honey. I'm not going out on a date with your uncle. He and I just happen to be going to the same place. So we're going together."

  "You going to see Meat?" Sasha's eyes lit up in hope.

  A sharp knife stabbed me through my heart. "Not tonight, honey." I leaned over and gave them both a big hug. Glancing up, I found Jessica staring at me with a sad smile. "Thank you for watching the boys for me."

  "No problem." She pulled a piece of lint off my clothes. "Go knock 'em dead."

  "I'll try." With those words, Bas escorted me out the front door.

  Chapter 2

  The club Bas dragged me to turned out to be fairly interesting. Obviously, it catered to the shape shifter population but accepted other species as long as everyone played nice. Music thumped and young toned bo
dies shimmied on the dance floor. Tables formed a perimeter around the large wooden floor, allowing patrons to sit, talk, and appraise the crowd for potential private entertainment later.

  Bas headed in his own direction, hooked up with a couple of buddies, judging by their friendly banter. All three stood at the bar, chatted, and watched the females as if sizing each one up as a potential mate.

  A handful of men approached me, asked about dancing or buying me a drink. One bold guy just came right out and asked about doing the naked body bop at his apartment. I tactfully and gently turned them all down. Meat market wasn't my style. Besides, despite what Bas thought, I really wasn't over Meat.

  Meat. More than once my thoughts turned to him, wondering where he was and who he spent his nights with. A dozen times in the past few days I'd made up my mind to head to the strip club, to confront him, to try to patch together the rip in our relationship. Each time I remembered his anger, how I broke his trust, and chickened out. For the life of me, I had no idea how to prove to him I could squirrel away secrets and protect his family with my silence. I had a feeling until I found a way tracking him down would prove a worthless cause.

  "Is this seat taken?"

  Glancing up, I found a young brunette with shoulder-length hair staring down at me with a smile.

  "No." I gestured to the vacant wooden chair. "It's all yours."

  The sheer natural beauty and grace of the woman screamed shifter in my mind. Not surprising since the club catered to the species.

  "Thanks." She plopped down, a bottle of water in hand, and glanced across the room. "Not much to choose from."

  "I haven't been really looking."

  She tilted her head, studied me for a long moment, then spoke again. "I'm Jasmine, by the way."

  "Shy."

  Her eyebrow arched, but she didn't question the odd name. Instead, she crossed her legs and leaned toward me. Deep brown eyes twinkled with interest. "Giving up on men entirely?"