Starcrossed Shifters

  Starcrossed Shifters

  Guardian of Mates Agency

  Chloe Vincent

  Table Of Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter One: Megan

  Chapter Two: Delilah

  Chapter Three: Gunner

  Chapter Four: Megan

  Chapter Five: Delilah

  Chapter Six: Megan

  Chapter Seven: Gunner

  Chapter Eight: Megan

  Chapter Nine: Delilah

  Chapter Ten: Gunner

  Chapter Eleven: Megan

  Chapter Twelve: Delilah

  Chapter Thirteen: Gunner

  Chapter Fourteen: Megan

  Chapter Fifteen: Gunner

  Chapter Sixteen: Delilah

  Chapter Seventeen: Megan

  Chapter Eighteen: Bryan

  Chapter Nineteen: Delilah

  Chapter Twenty: Megan

  Epilogue

  More Paranormal Book Action!

  About the Author

  Starcrossed Shifters

  Copyright © 2019

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the publisher, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. For permission requests, email Info@thereaderclub.com

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictionally. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or to actual events, businesses, companies, institutions, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  It is not legal to reproduce, duplicate, or transmit any part of this document in either electronic means or in printed format. Recording of this publication is strictly prohibited and any storage of this document is not allowed unless with written permission from the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locations is purely coincidental.

  Prologue

  “Hey.”

  Somebody was talking and that wasn’t good because Delilah was hungover. She stirred and murmured for the voice to go away, shifting around in the plastic chair she was sitting in. She cracked an eye open and shut it again. The light was horribly bright and a blurry shape was glaring at her.

  “Delilah.” It was Katz’s voice. Katz, the angelic agent who watched over her missions and generally liked to give her a hard time for absolutely no reason. He was probably not glaring, then, he was probably smirking. Katz was always smirking at her, and looking at her like he knew her better than she knew herself. It was really annoying. “Wake up, sleepyhead.”

  “Get awaaay,” Delilah whined.

  “Council’s waiting to see you upstairs,” Katz said, sounding way too happy about it. “New mission! Aren’t you excited?”

  Delilah sighed heavily and shifted around so she was laying back against the wall. She cracked her eyes open again to look at Katz. She was disappointed to see that he was just as good looking as the last time she’d seen him, with his bright eyes and kind, beaming smile. It was awful.

  Of all the things that went with her new job pairing up soulmates on earth for the Department of Soul Matery in order to gain her redemption for an earthly life spent wreaking havoc on other humans and creatures alike and destroying plenty of souls, this was definitely the worst; Katz with his good nature and humor and kindness and pretty face.

  Delilah groaned at him. She was sitting in an orange plastic chair in the lobby on the ground floor of the Department of Soul Matery. The place was starkly white just like every other interior in official departments in the Angelic Dimension. Around her, creatures of all sorts bustled to and fro. A giant troll was sitting on the floor beside her, reading his Oracle device. Apparently, there were all kinds of moving parts to the department. She’d talked to a guy just that morning who worked in a lab for developing soulmate personality combinations in little vials that were then sent off to be used in new creatures born on earth. It was all backstage stuff; how the sausage was made. It bored her so she’d yawned in his face.

  She’d been scheduled to see the Council of Three and receive her next mission an hour ago, but they’d delayed the appointment. Just as well, because she felt like crap.

  She glowered at Katz and said, “How is it that I have a hangover? Booze in heaven should not give you hangovers.”

  “This isn’t heaven,” Katz corrected her. “It’s a benevolent afterlife. And you drank three centaur whiskeys. That stuff will knock you on your butt.”

  “Well, it seems unfair,” Delilah said.

  “Drink this,” Katz said, producing a vial of his own from his pocket.

  Delilah raised an eyebrow and warily took the vial, uncorking it and drinking it down. Immediately her foggy and pounding head was clear and no longer pounding. She felt a little perked up, too. She only nodded her thanks at him, handing him back the vial.

  “Come on.” Katz offered her his hand and wiggled his fingers. “Soulmates are waiting!”

  Delilah managed a wry smile as she took his hand. “Oh, goody.”

  Katz slung an arm around her shoulder as he walked over to the elevator and they stepped in beside a small dragon. Katz nodded hello at the dragon and smoke billowed from his nostrils in greeting.

  “Cheer up, Delilah,” Katz said, squeezing her shoulders. “I think you have a talent for these missions. And the more you accomplish, the faster you’ll gain your redemption. Then you can do whatever you want in the afterlife.”

  “And it’ll only take me about a millennium,” Delilah said.

  “Exactly!” He’d somehow missed her sarcasm and the thought struck her that it was cute. Stupidly cute. She stifled a smile, annoyed at herself now.

  On the top floor, Katz shoved her through the parted elevator doors and into the white void, at the end of which, a panther was asleep on a desk.

  “Go get ‘em!” Katz said. She rolled her eyes at him and he pumped his fist as the door closed.

  “Right,” Delilah muttered. She straightened her black leather jacket and the click of her boots echoed on the glassy floor as she crossed it to speak to the panther.

  When she reached the panther, she cupped her hands around her mouth and said, “HEY!”

  The panther jerked awake and frowned at her before shifting back into the form of a blonde woman in a black skirt suit who slid off the desk and into her chair.

  “You don’t have to be rude,” she said.

  “I’m here to see-”

  “Yes, yes, I know.” She pushed a button on the desk and a door appeared in front of Delilah, who tossed the receptionist a little salute before walking through, the door disappearing behind her as she entered the humble and very human-looking conference room where Gavrill, silver-haired in a white suit and seeming nicer than the others, and Dix, a plump redhead in a white robe sat. The third of the Council of Three was absent.

  Delilah leaned on one foot, crossing her arms. “Where’d your third musketeer go?”

  “Akloy’s taking a mental health day,” Gavrill said, smiling kindly. “She hasn’t had one since the fifth century and she was a little stressed out. But we’ve got your dossier for your next mission all ready for you.”

  “Alright, look,” Delilah said, wanting to get ahead of things. “A little birdy told me that this mission is supposed to pair a fox shifter with a wolf shifter but that can’t be right. Right?”

  “No, that’s correct!” Gavrill was all smiles. He looked over at Dix as i
f asking for confirmation.

  “Yes,” Dix said, nodding. “Fox and wolf. We realize species of shifters rarely take each other as mates-”

  “Never!” Delilah said, throwing up her hands. “It never happens!”

  “It has happened forty-eight times,” Dix said, folding her hands on the table. She narrowed her eyes at Delilah and said, “I checked.”

  “Oh great. Forty-eight times over the entire course of shifter history which is way longer than human history-”

  “The point is, it has happened,” Gavrill said. “Most of the forty-eight times have been in the recent past. And it will happen again. Things are changing for the shifters. This one, eh, it’s a little more complicated. Their clans have had a bit of a feud going for a century or so. Mortal enemies and all that. But I’m sure you’ll figure it out. Gunner Dylan and Megan Flannery are meant for each other after all.”

  “Gunner Dylan,” Delilah said with a snort. “Sounds like a video game character.”

  “I didn’t choose his name,” Gavrill said a little touchily.

  “One question,” Delilah said, holding up a finger. “Is Oracle working better now?”

  Dix and Gavrill exchanged a dark look. The Oracle was the source of all knowledge in the Angelic Dimension. It could tell her how one of her targets was feeling or where they lived or what they were looking at on their “internet”. If it was feeling charitable it could create objects out of thin air (with permission from the Council). It was able to access all kinds of helpful information for Delilah when she was down on earth and she could use it while looking like she was merely toying with her cellphone. But it was occasionally...on the fritz.

  Gavrill made a shaky movement with his hand. “It comes and goes,” he said. “We’ve got our top IT people on it.”

  “Comforting,” Delilah grumbled.

  Gavrill handed over the dossier and she sighed, reading through it. Gunner Dylan was a wolf shifter and staffing logistics manager at a crappy social media company called Likt. Well, that sounded boring to Delilah. His future mate, Megan Flannery, was a fox shifter and founder of a new start-up called WellDrop. Their respective clans had feuded for generations.

  “Wait,” Delilah said, gaping at Gavrill. “So they’re different species and their clans are feuding on top of that?”

  Dix said, “We thought you might like a challenge.”

  “I don’t,” Delilah said. “I hate challenges. Ask anybody.”

  “Delilah, listen, we have another appointment in a minute. So if you could make your way…”

  Delilah made an unhappy noise deep in her throat. “Fine.”

  “And try not to be too intrusive this time!” Dix shouted after her. “Work from the sidelines! Stay undercover!”

  “I’ll do my best!” Delilah said as she was walking out the door. She really wanted a cigarette.

  Dimly, behind her, she heard Dix say, “Don’t just do your best! Do better!”

  Chapter One: Megan

  Megan Flannery stopped short of stepping into a puddle on the sidewalk. She re-adjusted her umbrella in her hand, wincing as she nearly lost her grip on the tray of lattes. The street was steep and her heels were high. It was also pouring rain and she’d had a lot of trouble finding a good parking space. She sighed heavily and continued to trudge uphill to the squat, modern brick and glass building that housed WellDrop. They’d only just gotten settled in the building as the funding had come through from more investors. The start-up was new and showed great promise, but it didn’t yet have its staffing together. That included the kind of people who went to fetch coffee.

  “Gofer,” Megan grumbled as she climbed the stairs from the street to the first floor of the place. The sign had not been hung yet. “First person we hire is a gofer. Somebody who loves carrying coffee.”

  “Oh, whine, whine, whine.” Her best friend Lane grinned at her, throwing open the front door and taking the tray of coffees from her. She examined the cups and handed Megan her latte back. She was Megan’s leashmate as well as the start-up’s co-founder. Her ponytail swung as she pointed to the metal bin full of still wet umbrellas by the door. “We got a thingy for the umbrellas.”

  “Okay.” Megan fought with her umbrella as it collapsed, holding the coffee in one hand. She dropped her umbrella in the bin and sighed heavily, smoothing her sleek, dark red bob of hair as she took a look around the office floor. It was not quite put together yet; a scattering of new desks had still-packaged computers on top of them. But Megan’s office was at least set up. Or, anyway, she had a computer and a desk. That was a start. There were already six people scurrying around, talking into phones as they opened boxes or tapped away on their laptops. Megan’s other leashmates, Naomi and Jan, nodded hello at Megan as they swept past her, phones in hand. About half of the start-up business was currently being conducted via text. It was impossible to tell who was working and who was messing around. But things had gone very well so far, and Megan trusted her people.

  Megan took off her damp coat and once inside her office, she took off her shoes. They were new and much too high. They were going to sting her feet all day if she actually wore them. She should have brought back-up flats.

  Nice one, Meg, she thought, before taking a sip of her latte.

  “Have we hired a staffing manager yet!” She shouted in the direction of whoever was nearby.

  Her three fellow leashmates headed the company with her, but there were also humans working at WellDrop. They were humans who had no idea they were working alongside four fox shifters. Bryan, one of the humans in question, popped his head into Megan’s office.

  “Were we supposed to hire a staffing manager this week?” He said.

  Megan sighed, looking around for a desk chair and not finding one. Instead, she sat directly on top of her desk and popped her laptop open. She crossed her legs and propped her computer on her knee, her bare foot bouncing.

  “Well, we need a staff,” Megan said. “And the rest of us are working infrastructure. Do you want to hire our first fifty drivers?”

  Bryan blanched and whispered, “Please, no.”

  “Right,” Megan said, opening her email. “So hire me one person who can hire all of them? Write up the position and I’ll take a look at it and then you can go post it on Indeed or wherever. By lunch?”

  “Will do!” Bryan said, already heading back to his desk.

  “Good,” Megan muttered. But she made a point to clear her throat and shout, “Thank you, Bryan!”

  She had worked at various start-ups before doing low-level jobs for shit pay and worse treatment. Her mother had told her a million times she could have any job she wanted. She had come from money and important circles in the fox shifter community of San Francisco. But Megan had not wanted to be a rich asshole who assumed they knew what they were doing without any experience. So she’d toiled in the trenches for a while. But she’d never forgotten what it was like to be the girl with the shit job.

  She was in the middle of her email when it occurred to her that the position of a staffing manager was perhaps the most important position in the company and she popped up again, padding over to Bryan’s desk in her bare feet. After a second thought, she trotted back and grabbed her latte.

  Lane was already talking to Bryan. “We want somebody who believes in collaboration,” Lane was saying. Bryan was dutifully jotting down everything she said.

  “Don’t say team player,” Megan said.

  Lane looked at her funny. “What, you don’t want a team player?”

  “Sure, I do. But everybody says that. It’s lost all meaning. It’s so trite. Don’t put that on the description. We assume the person is a team player.”

  “Okay fine,” Lane said. “We assume team player. Somebody invested in making self-care easier for the average person…”

  Megan chewed on her thumbnail, mulling over Lane’s words. She took a sip of her latte. WellDrop was an app that organized the delivery of self-care products and services for the
customer. The idea had been shared between Megan, Lane, Naomi and Jan. They couldn’t even remember who had originally come up with it. Though it was Megan with the big pocketbook, drive and know-how. She was the initial investor and had poured a chunk of the trust handed down from her parents into the start-up. She also happened to be alpha of her fox leash. The only ones who felt more pressure on their shoulders than Megan to make WellDrop successful were her leashmates and she knew it. They would have rather died than disappoint their alpha.

  “I want somebody confident,” Megan said. “But not a jerk. Not one of those cocky Silicon Valley douchebags.”

  “Are you really going to list every desirable personality trait?” Lane said, nudging her. “Like I know you love to micro-manage but seriously-”

  “Okay, okay,” Megan said, smiling a little.

  Bryan was typing furiously as Lane and Megan read over his shoulder. She was a little impressed he could pull that off. She could never work well when someone was staring at her doing it. Bryan was her admin guy and he’d proven himself to be more valuable than she’d expected. She’d seen a lot of start-ups fail before WellDrop. She knew all the pitfalls. The beginnings were always chaotic and everyone had about ten different jobs. But she was feeling pretty confident that she’d chosen the right people so far to give them a fighting chance.

  “How about I just review it right here?” Megan said. “As long as you’re typing it.”

  Bryan mumbled in the affirmative and she and Lane read the entire thing over, giving him minor corrections and suggestions. Finally, he was done and they ducked down to read it through one more time.