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Dementor (Rolling Thunder MC Birmingham Book 1)
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Dementor
Rolling Thunder Birmingham
Candace Blevins
Dementor © March 2020 by Candace Blevins
All rights reserved under United States of America copyright law, and the International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the author.
This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental. All sexually active characters in this work are 18 years of age or older.
This book is for sale to ADULT AUDIENCES ONLY. It contains substantial sexually explicit scenes and graphic language which may be considered offensive by some readers. Please store your files where they cannot be accessed by minors.
Cover design © 2020 Candace Blevins
First Edition March 2020
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Contents
Connect with Candace
Description
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
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Bibliography
Slave Excerpt
About the Author
Connect with Candace
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Description
Meet the men of the Birmingham RTMC...
Dementor’s a grizzly bear shifter. In human form, he’s a huge mountain of a man who works as a bouncer for the MC’s strip club. The MC is struggling because so many of their members died during the battle between good and evil, but the small group of brothers who survived form a tight group.
Ember is a swan shifter who was owned by the Owl King for years — a princess given in tribute, but she grew to love him despite the fact it wasn’t a healthy relationship. When he was killed in the battle, she found herself alone and adrift.
Worlds collide when a grizzly bear and a swan from opposite worlds find common ground. This is about more than princess and biker, it’s about a monogamous creature in a relationship with one who isn’t, it’s about a protective personality versus a woman who hasn’t been free to be herself for years. Is she even capable of having a normal relationship? Because now, anything short of total freedom feels a bit like having her wings clipped all over again.
But she’s going to transition to a dragon soon, and clipping a swan’s wings is one thing, while clipping a dragon’s wings is an entirely different matter.
Other Books in the Birmingham RTMC series:
Dementor
Bobcat (April 16, 2020)
Frost (Spring/Summer 2020)
Squatch (2020)
Chapter One
In a post-apocalyptic Birmingham, humans are recovering from what they think were riots and long-term power outages, but the shapeshifters and vampires know they are recovering from an all-out battle between the forces of good and evil.
Parts of the city were demolished in the fighting.
Humans and supernaturals alike lost loved ones and friends, but life must go on.
Dementor
I spent months wondering why I’d lived when so many of my brothers had died.
In part, it’s because when I shift into my animal form, grizzly bears have hands, and I dug my way out from under the building after the explosion. But that can’t explain all of it. I was standing right beside three wolves who were all killed before they could change. They could’ve easily followed me out in wolf form, but they suffered too much head damage in the initial detonation. Why didn’t I?
Frost survived because his owl form didn’t need much room in that little pocket of air he found himself in, but I still have to point out that he was alive to change.
The club had been mostly wolves before the battle, but in the aftermath, out of six surviving members we had two bears, a hawk, an owl, and two wolves.
Some days, it seemed a waste it’d been me that survived. I’d been a bouncer at Blaze, the club’s titty bar for years. I’d thought I could step up and manage the place, but fuck if I hadn’t been wrong about that. Bobcat had only been in the building a handful of times, and the bastard came to town, walked right in, and took charge. Made it look easy.
But the day I first laid eyes on Ember, I knew I’d needed to live long enough to have her in my life.
Until she walked into the room, I’d convinced myself I was just one of the soldiers who lived, and that being a bear instead of a wolf had given me an advantage. No way had life spared me because I had something important to do.
And then she walked into the Drake Security safehouse and I was mesmerized. Her scent. Her grace. Her voice. Before I’d even seen her face, I was fascinated with her. The world stood still.
She greeted Mac as if she knew him, nodded to Tess, and finally turned to me — and didn’t look at me with even a tiny bit of horror. She gave me a genuine smile and introduced herself.
“Well, hello, and my aren’t you big? I’m Ember.”
Everyone at the very least micro-grimaces when they see me. Some are obvious about it. I’m used to it and only react when people mean to be rude. People are alarmed by my face, so I give them a pass if they try to cover up their initial reaction — and most do.
Supposedly, no one’s face is exactly symmetrical, but mine is visibly off. No reason, it’s just who I am. Thankfully, I’m a great big grizzly bear so I was never really bullied about it. I got kicked out of a couple of schools, but no one messed with me more than once.
But the point is, Ember didn’t react. She smiled, and it was genuine.
I didn’t even realize I wasn’t answering until Mac filled in for me. “That’s Dementor, and this is Tess. Thanks for letting us use the house. Aaron gave us the address and codes to get in, and said you knew to expect us
.”
“Yep. That’s the deal. I get to live here for free, but I’m a safehouse every once in a while. Make yourselves at home. I keep a lot of meat in the freezer — feel free to eat whatever looks good. I’m about to make a huge batch of cookies, and I’ll triple the recipe. Will that be enough? I need to load up on carbs, so I’ll eat a few dozen by myself.”
I finally found my voice and somehow managed to speak without sounding like an idiot. “I’ll help with the baking, and I’d love some cookies.”
She put her hands on her hips and looked up at me. “You like all kinds of cookies? I mean, what if I’m about to make spinach and garlic cookies?”
“So long as it isn’t healthy, I should like it, but I can’t imagine you’re about to make spinach cookies, or oatmeal cookies.” But for her, I’d try one.
“Oh no. Homemade chocolate chip cookies today.” She looked around and back to me. “Are you the muscle or the friend?”
Ah, she was asking if I was here with Tess. No, she was important to one of my brothers, which made her important to me.
I crossed my arms and looked down at the adorable, tiny woman. “How do you know I’m not the one who needs a safehouse?”
She shook her head and looked to Mac, who told her. “Aaron wanted someone to shadow you while we’re here.” He put his hand up, as if to hold off an argument before it happened. “We all know you can take care of yourself, but Dementor will have your six.”
She looked at me and shrugged. “My team will think something’s up if you show up with me and we haven’t fucked. Cookies first, though.”
She walked out of the room, and I looked to Mac, hoping for some kind of explanation. I’d assumed she worked for Drake Security, but that first sentence told me she didn’t. Aaron Drake’s people are at the top of their profession and they don’t say things like that.
“She does the roller derby thing,” Mac said in explanation. “She’s part of the Birmingham Hellcats. I’m going to do a perimeter check. Talk to Ember about her capabilities. She’s going to UAB. Criminal Justice. Aaron plans to hire her when she graduates.”
It seemed for every question answered, I had three more. I didn’t even try not to stare at her adorable little ass while I followed her into the kitchen. She was some kind of bird, but I couldn’t put a finger on her scent beyond that. Waterfowl, maybe? Still, she wasn’t human, and I wasn’t aware of a supernatural roller derby league. I knew the human one had started again soon after civilization started putting itself back together, but only because Blaze had been half empty on the derby’s opening weekend. It seems the same men who like to watch almost-naked women dance also like to watch fully-clothed women battling it out on roller skates.
“You’re taking a chance, aren’t you? Competing in public sports with humans?”
She shrugged and put an armful of ingredients on the island. “Swans can’t just change at will. There’s no danger of me getting injured and turning into a swan in front of humans. I have the Concilio’s permission, but only because Aaron helped me get it.”
Well, that answered one question, but as before, now I had more. “How do you change?” I was guessing she knew Aaron Drake — the owner of Drake Security — through his wife, the Swan Queen.
“We have to orgasm with a dick in us. Not something that frequently happens by accident.”
“So, you change when you have sex? Does it have to be with another swan? I’m guessing sex with humans is out of the question.” Well, maybe not. “Unless they already know about you, anyway.”
She chuckled. “We have to mean to change. It’s possible to have orgasms without shifting into a big white bird. Doesn’t have to be another supernatural, but we pull power from the person so it’s best if he isn’t a human.” A pause while she measured sugar and flour, and she continued. “What’s your story? I don’t sense a connection with you and the attorney chick. Not a direct one, anyway.”
“Tess is important to a friend, and Aaron Drake asked me to hang out with you a few days while they’re here.” I didn’t realize I’d be expected to fuck the current resident, but there didn’t seem to be a way to say that without making it sound like it was an imposition.
And I was completely on board with taking this woman to bed. Or the kitchen table. Or hell, the floor would do just fine.
“And what makes you qualified to shadow me? I mean, besides being the size of a small mountain? Do you just look scary, or do you have skills?”
“He’s RTMC,” Mac said from the doorway. “Works security for Blaze. He can handle himself.”
Now, she looked at me with curiosity. “You’re a biker? Like with the patches and shit?”
I grinned. “Yeah. With patches and shit. Aaron asked me not to wear them for this. He was worried he’d draw attention to you if he put one of his people on you. I’m not connected to Drake Security, so the people after Tess aren’t going to be watching me.”
She put her little fists on her hips and looked at me as if she was trying to read my mind. She could’ve been a vampire who had me under her spell, because I could only look back.
“My safeword is Sophia, because if you don’t stop when I say it, her husband will hold you down while I cut your balls off with a silver knife.”
Because a silver knife means they aren’t likely to grow back.
I don’t take kindly to threats, and there aren’t many people capable of holding me down, but no one fucks with the King of the Dragons. Instead of going all macho and telling her not to threaten me, I asked, “I take it you and Her Majesty are close?”
“Cousins, and it’s kind of a long story, but that’s my safeword. No doesn’t have to mean no, if you don’t want it to.”
The thoughts of holding this beyond-gorgeous woman down and taking her made me want to pick her up and carry her through the house to the nearest bedroom, but it wouldn’t do to let her scent exactly what her words did to me, so I locked my reactions down and met her gaze.
“Good to know. House safeword at the clubhouse is red. The bear’s used to listening for it. Might be best to use it.” I took the bowl from her and started working the ingredients together. “Do all swans like sweets?”
“No. You’ve done this before? Made cookies from scratch?”
“Yeah. My grams used to make cookies for us. You’re royalty? Kind of surprised you know how to. Doesn’t royalty usually have maids and cooks?”
“My dad is brother to the former Swan King. We had staff, but mom enjoyed cooking and made sure I learned.”
So many thoughts went through my head, all at once. On the one hand, being royalty meant she’d been raised with mega-manners and lots of money. On the other hand, she was in a roller derby league, making plans to work as a bodyguard or some other security role. Also, she didn’t see me as repulsive. None of this seemed to add up.
I know my strong points and my weak ones. My eyes aren’t exactly lined up, and my nose isn’t exactly centered. It isn’t just that I’m not attractive, I’m misshapen. Most females use words like hideous and grotesque when they first meet me. Not to my face, usually, but I can always see it in their surprised expression. The sweetbutts have to do all the brothers, and once most get to know me, I don’t see the revulsion anymore, but it’s always there the first time. Like I’m the “you have to take the bad with the good” bit.
I got kicked out of my third school in the fourth grade, and Grams taught me from home after that. She taught me to read and write, and handle basic arithmetic. When she taught me history, I also got her memories of what else was happening in the world during major events, and she could tell me what parts the history books were lying about, and what they were omitting with intent to deceive. She was born in 1872 and she never forgot anything. I’m intelligent, but I’m not book smart. It’s one of the many reasons I told Mad Dog, the club president, he needed to find someone else to manage Blaze before I fucked something up so badly we couldn’t un-fuck it. It felt like I needed a law degree to
negotiate the job.
But this gorgeous little swan shifter looked at me with curiosity and not distaste. I wanted to know more about her.
“Why roller derby? Does it pay well?”
She laughed. “Before the battle, in the other league, it cost me a few thousand dollars a year to play — dues, insurance, travel expenses, equipment. Things are different now. The rules of ownership were drawn up better when we formed again after the riots and power outages. We still aren’t getting paid, but now our travel is planned and paid for, and our club takes care of dues from our ticket sales.” A shrug. “Jury’s still out on whether these are good changes or not. I think we lost some autonomy in the bargain, but I’m only in it another year. Probably.”
Before I could ask why she wasn’t planning on staying in it longer, she changed the subject. “What about you? Why a motorcycle club?”
“I had a motorcycle. I met other bikers. Someone invited me to hang out with them. I don’t know. It just kind of happened, but now they’re my brothers.”
“And your connection to Aaron?”