Healing A Shifter: Pepper Valley Shifters, #2

By C.A. Tibbitts

Living a life of bitter seclusion, Griffin Tago is a mentally and physically broken puma-shifter who finds himself suddenly alone and without a family.

Daniela “Dani” Celinho had a happy childhood in her family of shifters, until a deliberate act against her as a teenager leaves her with a limp, and unable to continue competing as a swimmer. Later on, after her father is murdered, her mother and sister both fall apart. Dani decides to make a life for herself, in a little town called Pepper Valley, Colorado.

One day, Griffin’s best friend talks him into having a beer at his sworn enemy’s place, Great Scott’s Bar & Grill. After a short run-in with “Great Scott” himself, Griffin’s friend distracts him by pointing out a brunette beauty standing at the jukebox. One look at her takes Griffin’s breath away.

Dani looks past the wheelchair and sees the strong handsome man with long dark hair and black tattoos. Their physical desire leads to a quick mating.

Can Dani heal not only Griffin’s body, but his soul as well?

• Language: English
• Publisher: C.A. Tibbitts
• Release date: May 4, 2017
• ISBN: 9781386359449

Book preview

PROLOGUE

(Present Day)

Griffin sat in the dark back corner of Great Scott’s Bar & Grill, wondering what his clan would do if they knew he could walk. He had been in the wheelchair for years. The top doctors in shifter genetics had all agreed he would never walk again. They were wrong.

He stared at the large crowd, and his eyes focused on the two men standing on the small podium. Alexander Adams, the shifter clan-lead from Colorado Springs, smiled proudly at the audience as the other man spoke. It was the other man, though, who captured his full attention: The Pepper Valley clan-lead, his own clan-lead, the man responsible for robbing him of the use of his legs for almost five years, Finley ‘Finn’ Scott.

If Finn had had any clue what Griffin had planned, he wouldn’t be standing there, smiling and announcing his congratulations to his daughter at this, her mating ceremony. Honestly, what sort of family encouraged a public mating ritual? The answer was, two families who’d forced their children to mate in order to unite the separate clans into one.

It was clear that at first, Fiona Scott had thought Zane Adams was a jackass. After their impending mating had been announced four years ago, Zane had managed to get a human girl pregnant. Griffin had no idea why Fiona had suddenly changed her mind and now wanted to mate Zane, after having a child of her own. Could Zane be the father of the daughter?

His thoughts were interrupted as the third shifter in the love triangle began to make a scene. Jace Blackmore announced that he had not only already mated Fiona, but that Fiona’s child, Maisie, was his as well. Fascinating for some, perhaps, but it meant nothing to Griffin.

Then Jace proposed to Fiona, Zane punched Jace, and the two men shifted in order to fight over her. Now the situation was beginning to turn into something interesting. He watched the shifted men and the rest of the crowd disappear out the back door. Ever so slowly, he began to roll his wheelchair toward the back exit.

THE FIGHT WAS NOW OVER, Jace and Zane were in the hospital to recuperate, and the crowd had gone home. Finn was busy cleaning the restaurant. One thing was for sure, shifters drank a lot of alcohol, especially during an open bar.

After yawning more times than he could count, Finn decided the rest could wait until the morning. He went to check the lock on the back door in the darkened corner, when he ran straight into something. He glanced down and noticed it was an empty wheelchair. The only shifter here tonight with a wheelchair had been . . .

Finn turned, hearing a noise behind him, and stared at a standing Griffin Tago. Oh shit.

Griffin smirked and punched Finn in the face.

CHAPTER ONE

(1966)

G riffin! he heard his baby sister scream from the vicinity of the kitchen. Then he heard their mother screaming, followed by the yelp of a dog. He tossed the comic book aside, stood up and stretched, and walked calmly out of his room. He hated drama, but drama certainly liked the Tago family of southeast Florida.

Bruiser, their large mutt, had apparently jumped high enough to grab a tray off the counter, knocking chocolate cupcakes onto the floor. The dog brushed against his bare leg as Bruiser hid behind Griffin. Already six feet tall and broad at age fourteen, Griffin easily slid into the role of protector, for any creature.

That dog has got to go, his mom said, trying to salvage a few cupcakes from the blue and gold vinyl floor.

He ruined my cupcakes! Violet whined. The bake sale is tomorrow, and we don’t have any more cake mix.

Griffin rolled his hazel eyes. He loved his sister, but she volunteered for too many things at school. There was a last-minute catastrophe, always of epic proportions according to her. What will you need? he sighed in resignation.

Violet grinned. Three boxes of chocolate cake mix, a dozen eggs, and vanilla icing. None of the store brand. I want the good stuff. You’re the best, Griff!

Such a good boy, his mom smiled.

Come on, Bruiser. Griffin walked out the door and down the sidewalk toward the small market, the dog hot on his heels.

After ordering his dog to stay, he walked inside the store and headed for the cake mixes. He picked out the mix and icing, and walked to the refrigerated section for the eggs. He grinned as he passed by a pretty girl with long dark hair, who flashed him a peace sign.

He shifted the items to his other arm, trying to shake out the sudden tingling in his left hand. After complaining at least a hundred times to his mom, she had finally taken him to the doctor. The doctor said it was bad circulation, which was unusual for a teenager. Doc Hanson prescribed dunking his hands into ice water, then hot water, back and forth for thirty minutes, as a daily treatment. The whole suggestion was stupid, and Griffin had stopped doing it after two days when nothing had changed.

He placed the selected groceries down on the wooden floor and began to search through the eggs, making sure none were cracked. He groaned as both hands went numb and the eggs dropped to the floor, breaking and spreading over his new white tennis shoes. Then he could not feel his feet.

Griffin heard a high-pitched scream to his left. An older woman with short gray hair in a double-knit green dress was shrieking and pointing at him. What’s your problem, lady? came out in what could only be described as a large cat’s feral yowl. He looked down at his hands, only they were large black paws with sharp nails. He screamed, but another yowl came out instead.

Amidst the shrieking and screams, he heard the distinct sound of a shotgun shell sliding into place. He ran for the door, only managing to slide a few times on his new paws. A man jumped out of the way and he escaped out the door before it could close.

He heard a shot ring out, and the grass to the right of him flew up. Thank God Gerald the storeowner was a bad shot. Griffin kept running toward his home, and realized Bruiser was again following closely, only this time the dog was growling and barking as he chased his owner.

Griffin jumped toward the door, his claws scratching down the peeling red paint. The door opened and his mom screamed, trying to shut the door again. He reached for her. Then part of her skirt was hanging open over her now-bloody knee.

A searing pain hit his left hind leg and Bruiser growled fiercely as his hold tightened.

All at once, Griffin let out his own scream, and his real voice was back. Let go, Bruiser!

The dog let go and tilted his head in confusion.

What the hell are you?

Griffin stared up at his mom as she looked down on his naked body in shock. Mom, I . .

She shook her head. You are like your father, she whispered.

Why are you naked? Violet asked from the doorway.

Violet, go to your room, Mom ordered.

But . . . okay, fine! Violet grumbled and stomped down the hallway. The door closed in the distance.

Pack your stuff, Griffin. You and that mutt are going to live with your father in Colorado.

His mouth dropped open in surprise. He had never met his father. In fact, his mom had said he had died while his mom was pregnant with Violet. He scrambled up off the porch, surprised that his limbs now cooperated. You can’t just . .

Watch me! his mom hissed in reply.

CHAPTER TWO

Griffin ducked as he stepped off the bus. During the four-day journey from Florida to Colorado, he’d learned to duck when disembarking, because he had almost knocked himself completely unconscious the first time. His dog, Bruiser, was already out, finding a place to mark his territory. He took a deep breath and the fresh air felt good in his lungs.

Son.

Griffin turned to see a man, even larger than himself, moving closer. The resemblance was uncanny, like staring into a mirror that could age you. His Samoan father was at least six-and-a-half feet tall, with wide shoulders, dark black hair, and lots of muscles. He also looked as though he had never smiled a day in his entire life.

Get your stuff. I’m parked over there, his father said, walking toward the old, faded black pickup truck parked close by.

Griffin felt his brow crease. What a warm welcome from his long-lost father. This is going to suck. He grabbed his bags from the large pile of luggage and whistled for Bruiser to follow him. After tossing his bags in the pickup bed, the teen and his dog both jumped into the truck and his father began to drive away.

It was almost a half-hour later, all in complete silence except for Bruiser’s snores, when the pickup came to a stop in front of a small house. The house‘s faded blue paint was peeling, the grass was almost knee high, and it looked like several people used the yard for a trash dump.

Father, son, and dog climbed out of the truck, and Fetu opened the front door with a shove. You sleep on the couch.

Griffin looked around the small room a moment before dropping his bags to the floor. The house in Florida looked like a mansion compared to this place. He didn’t even get his own room?  And what was that smell?  He realized it was the smell of a dirty litter box as a cat hissed and Bruiser took off after it, barking and growling.

You better shut that dog up or we’ll eat him for dinner, Fetu growled. We fight tonight. You better be ready.

We fight tonight? What was that supposed to mean? Apparently his father was a man of few words, which suited Griffin just fine. He didn’t want to get to know the man. He would probably run away from this shithole the first time he got a chance.

GRIFFIN WONDERED IF he was about to witness an orgy. As soon as they had arrived at the base of Jericho Summit, men, women, and even some children had completely stripped off their clothes. He remained fully clothed, leaning back against the front of his father’s pickup, his eyes wide as he took it all in.

Are you sure you want to do this? a naked redheaded man asked Fetu.

I will lead the clan. You will die, Finley Scott, Fetu replied.

Griffin’s mouth dropped open in surprise. His father planned on killing this man? Why was everyone cheering? People were literally exchanging money as the two men stepped into the middle of the clearing.

No need to worry, your father is the enforcer. He will win.

Griffin turned toward the voice. A teenaged boy, about his age or slightly older, with vivid blue eyes and blond hair was now leaning against the truck to his left. At least the kid had clothes on.

I’m Brody.

Griffin. He looked back at the clearing and watched his father and Finley shifting. Holy shit! His father had just turned into a Bengal tiger, only the animal was black with darker black stripes. The other man, Finley, had shifted into a leopard with fur of a muted red color with bright red spots. The two animals now