Page 3 of Waste (Legendary Shifters #4)

He took a sip of his drink, closed his eyes, and leaned backwards. Whatever was bothering would raise its head soon enough. It always did. The question was, would it be a pleasant or unpleasant surprise?

Ghoul/Drew – Three weeks later.

Ghoul slunk towards his target. Waste rode him hard, and silently he slapped the Sin back. The damn thing would eat soon. Ghoul had watched this criminal through the window. His sins were unsurpassed, and Waste would feast on this wasteful soul.

This greedy fool had been running a restaurant chain but refused to let any meals be given to the needy or homeless. He’d rather throw it in the bin, causing unnecessary waste. Ghoul reckoned several thousand pounds’ worth of food was discarded each year.

The guy could have donated to a soup kitchen or reduced meals for the poor, anything but tossing it.

Now, he would pay the price for such waste.

Ghoul could smell the greed coming off him as well.

That was another form of waste. The man had enough money.

He could have helped charities out, but instead, kept every single penny.

The guy appeared in front of Ghoul, in his back garden, where he’d been waiting, and Ghoul pounced. His mind switched off as Waste fed, and after a few moments, the Sin smacked its lips. Ghoul noted how Waste almost seemed drunk and scowled. Wow, had the target been that bad?

Ghoul began slinking away, but paused when he heard a woman’s voice.

“Come on, please start,” she begged, and Ghoul frowned. Who or what was she talking to?

He crept closer, keeping a sharp eye out for any traps. Hunters would employ any method to catch a Legendary Shifter.

“Hey, lady, you okay?” someone asked, and Ghoul crouched down low and peered through a bush. A young lady stood beside a car with the bonnet propped up. Ghoul realised she’d broken down, and a man had pulled up close. Funny, Ghoul hadn’t heard a vehicle approach.

“I’m fine, thanks. I’ll stick around for the RAC,” she replied.

“Let me look. It might be something easy, like a spark plug has come loose,” the guy suggested.

Ghoul watched as she backed slightly away as the man kept coming forward.

“Thank you, but honestly, I’d rather wait for the RAC,” the woman insisted.

Ghoul cocked his head; he was picking up bad vibes from the man. It seemed she was too, as she tried to keep a distance between them.

“You don’t recognise me, do you?” the guy said, and Ghoul stiffened. What he was witnessing wasn’t a normal situation of someone breaking down. This wasn’t his business, but Ghoul couldn’t leave. The woman reeked of innocence.

“Should I?” she inquired as she continued backing away.

“Shelley, I visit your coffee shop all the time,” he crooned, and Shelley looked startled.

“Mr Black Americano with one sugar and a lashing of cinnamon,” she said, and he beamed at her.

“Exactly. See, I thought we’d clicked.”

“Huh?” Shelley asked.

“Yes. The way you call my name has a special tone to it. You like me as much as I do you,” Mr Black Americano pressed.

“Sorry, you seem to have misread my friendliness. I treat every customer the same,” Shelley said with a weak smile.

Anger crossed Mr Black Americano’s face, and he moved so swiftly that Shelley didn’t have a chance. “Don’t lie to me!” he snarled.

“I’m not!” Shelley stuttered as she tried to avoid him. He gripped her arms tightly, and Shelley emitted a whimper of pain. “Let me go!”

“Stop playing games with me, Shelley. You know you’re attracted to me; you flirt every time I come in!”

“I do not! I’m a friendly person, that’s all. Mr Black Americano, I’m sorry if you misunderstood me,” Shelley gasped and winced.

Ghoul noted how Mr Black Americano’s knuckles were turning white.

“You’re nothing but a tease. I thought you were something different, but you’re just a slut like all the others.” His fist raised and smashed down into Shelley’s frightened face.

Ghoul moved quickly. This wasn’t his kill, but he couldn’t stand by and watch an innocent woman beaten or possibly killed.

Even so, Mr Black Americano punched Shelley three further times and she’d stumbled back against her car by the time Ghoul arrived.

Her hands were elevated to protect herself as Ghoul appeared behind her assailant.

His hands fastened around his target’s throat, and he bit down hard. Waste rampaged as he drained the Sin inside the man, and then Ghoul snapped his neck with a single twist. The whole process took less than thirty seconds.

Shelley gaped and stepped back in shock. “He hurt me,” she whimpered.

“Call the cops,” Ghoul rasped and started retreating.

Shelley’s gaze latched onto him, and her eyes widened. “What are you?”

“Call the police and tell them what happened, and a monster intervened,” Ghoul said and continued moving away.

Shelley threw out a hand and grabbed his forearm. She looked down at his skin, confused. Ghoul understood why. He’d feel cold and clammy, even rubbery to her touch.

“Thank you, but he’s the monster, not you,” she whispered.

Her words pierced Ghoul’s heart as he tore free and headed back behind the bush. He glanced in the mirror of his previous target and called Mary Worth three times to portal home.

Shelly – two months later.

Shelley sighed as she finished another day at the coffee shop where she worked. Offering her co-workers a tired smile, she headed for her locker, intending to head straight home. Instead, she was impeded by her manager, Jo.

“How are you doing, Shelley?” Jo asked with mock concern.

“I’m okay, thanks.” Shelley tried to move past Jo, but Jo blocked her path.

“Shelley, we’re all worried about you. You… experienced a traumatic event that led to you being injured,” Jo pushed.

“I’m well aware of what happened, Jo; I was present,” she muttered. Shelley self-consciously touched her face where John Saville, Mr Black Americano’s name, had broken her cheekbone.

“Shelley, the offer of therapy remains on the table. The company will pay,” Jo offered.

Shelley knew why they would pay. The purpose was to prevent her from suing them.

John Saville had found and stalked her through her workplace.

The company had failed to notice a problem, and he’d also sabotaged her car in the staff car park behind the shop.

Their security guard yet again spotted nothing.

It turned out he enjoyed playing an online game that captured dinosaurs more than doing his job.

In a hard-pitched effort to stop Shelley from suing, there were safety issues they’d overlooked; Shelley had been paid for the three weeks she’d missed working.

They’d even hired a plastic surgeon to examine her broken cheekbone.

She was aware that her eye socket had dropped slightly, and it was noticeable.

Shelley was scheduled for a surgery appointment in a couple of weeks.

At work, Shelley started wearing glasses with plain glass to prevent people from staring at her eyes. If she were outside, she could wear sunglasses, and at home, there was nobody to care.

“I know, and I’m fine. Thank you for caring,” Shelley said the words, but didn’t mean them.

She smiled listlessly and moved past Jo. There was nothing more to say. Shelley was well aware she wasn’t the bubbly, positive, friendly person she had been two months ago. John Saville had beaten that out of her. Now she was coldly professional while she provided good customer service.

There was only one thing that got her ass moving lately, and that was researching her rescuer.

After he—she assumed it had been a he—had disappeared, she’d called the cops.

Silently slumping against her car, Shelley had collapsed in a daze.

Unsurprisingly, it had taken the police twenty minutes to arrive.

By that time, Shelley’s face had swollen to unbearable limits and had closed her right eye.

She was barely conscious as she was loaded into an ambulance with an officer escorting her.

The dead guy close to her had obviously caused great concern.

Shelley had kept her mouth shut while she tried to arrange her thoughts.

Even so, when she arrived at the hospital, she was no clearer.

In the end, Shelley had told a partial truth.

She claimed she’d no idea what happened to John Saville.

She recalled, sobbing, him punching her and falling against the car and raising her arms to defend herself.

Shelley then alleged that everything was going dark, and then suddenly she was collapsing on the floor and staring at his dead body.

The police, needless to say, didn’t believe her and returned repeatedly, but her story never changed.

If she claimed… what? That some monster that had saved her life, they would have locked her up.

Shelley knew when to keep her mouth shut, and this was one of those times.

Even now, the police would randomly contact her asking if she had remembered something.

There was no way Shelley would admit anything.

They’d lock her up and throw away the key.

Instead, Shelley returned to work and carried on with daily life. However, she was far more wary and alert.

Once home, she buried herself in her research, and she thought she’d figured out what had saved her. It was something straight out of a fantasy book or a horror novel, but it certainly shouldn’t exist. The creature that had appeared from nowhere like a knight in shining armour was called a ghoul.