Aimi's eyes widened. "No way. I am not wiping your ass, not when we can afford a nursemaid."

"Only if I let you hire one because, so long as I am the matriarch of this family, you won't have any money of your own other than what you earn or I give you."

"You are pure evil."

Her mother preened. "Thank you. Now, change into something pretty or don't. But I warn you, one of you will be claiming that young man."

Like hell. They didn't that day or the next when their mother tried to ambush them. Adi and Aimi played a game of 'dodge the marriage-bent mother' until garlicky Harold was safely claimed by some other poor girl looking to escape her overbearing matriarch.

But while the dodging game still proved as fun as it had when they'd started playing it at twenty-one, it did highlight one important fact. This was Aimi's last year to be considered a suitable bride. If she wanted a life outside this house and away from her family, then she needed to claim a man.

But not just any man.

A beast thought extinct. And, guess what, the world was outing them on a daily basis. Now, she just had to find the right one before her next birthday.

Chapter Three.

Where to next?

City to city, he drifted, looking for clues as to where Parker kept Sue-Ellen stashed. It wasn't as if Uncle Theo hid. The man kept making appearances on news stations and gave speeches to Congress, but that didn't tell Brandon where his uncle lived.

Living as a transient meant it wasn't easy to come by information or even find a place he could stay for more than a few moments before being chased onward. The homeless under bridges wouldn't accept a monster in their midst. The sewers already had residents. The world where humans walked wasn't safe for him.

No one trusted the man with the monster face, which was why he stuck to rooftops, an observer to the madness now happening in the world. A madness punctuated by violence.

People, or more accurately humans, moved about in groups. Guns-now mostly stocked with silver bullets-hung on most hips. No one went around unarmed, not anymore. In this new world, everyone watched with suspicious eyes and twitchy trigger fingers.

Religion had made a resurgence, and the Bible thumpers screamed that the time had come. Thing was, the religions couldn't seem to agree on what that meant.

Months had passed since the initial reporting, months of people coming forward to say, "I have a furry side." Months of trying to understand what it all meant. Months of folks getting killed, lines being drawn, and blood being shed.

At the thought of blood, his stomach gurgled, hungry again, always hungry.

Ssshould go down there and have lunch. Crunch some bones.

The voice in his head, once so distinct, now sounded more and more like his own. The months of running had taken their toll. It was hard to spot the line separating man and beast, the fight to remain in control a constant one.

The fact that he'd had to rely more and more on his violent side to survive didn't help. Humans knew shifters existed, but that didn't make them automatically accepted.

The SHC had appointed a spokesperson to deal with the news of their existence. One guess on who was chosen for that role.

Uncle Parker. The same bastard who'd purposely maneuvered them into revealing their secret took the stage with a great big smile. He didn't do it alone. He brought out his trophy wife to show her off, her delicate humanity a political ploy meant to show the world that shifters could cohabit with humans. His children were of the perfect Stepford variety. Well groomed. Polite. Perfect poster children with a madman as a father.

Theo's immediate family wasn't the only one who made appearances with him. At times, Sue-Ellen, the niece Theo had lovingly rescued-lying fucking bastard!-stood by his side with eyes downcast and hands clasped in front of her. She offered shy smiles to the cameras and soft words. The media loved her.

But the media also loved controversy, so for every photo-op they blasted across the networks trying to promote unity, they countered with the opposite, showing clips of animals versus men, where the men lost unless they used guns.

The world was in turmoil. Ever since the Great Reveal-a term he should note was spoken in hushed voices by shifters everywhere-Parker's words were played and replayed on all the news channels. News personalities kept asking the politicians in charge what they were going to do. Doctor Phil and other celebrities dissected what Theo said, and what he didn't say but possibly implied. People recited Theo's words on the street, trying to make sense of the revelation.

"My name is Theodore Parker, and I am here to tell you that, yes, shapeshifters do live among you. But despite what you might have seen, or think, you needn't fear. We're just like everybody else."

What a crock of shit.

"Our kind is, with a few exceptions where my company was trying to help, peaceful."

Whopper of a lie.

"We"-Parker drew Sue-Ellen close with a benevolent smile-"look forward to letting you learn about us." Ha. The only thing Parker was interested in learning was what it would take to control those making the laws.

As one of his former inner cadre, Brandon knew what Parker was really after. He'd made his intentions quite clear. Being one of the hidden leaders of the SHC wasn't good enough for him. Theo wanted more power. Wanted a spot in the limelight. So he shoved all of his kind out of the fucking closet into the public eye.

Madman! Usually, people would have laughed and smiled and placated Theo while they waited for the men in the white coats to take him away.

Except there were videos. Damning videos, the ones showing the shifters' more feral sides. The clips of the battle at Bittech had brought a tidal wave of problems.

Violent animals attacking other animals. Beasts attacking humans.

Then there were the Bittech monsters-like me. More than a few had been caught on camera, their extra parts a source of fascinating horror.

Humanity felt threatened. Humans felt deceived.

The different became hunted. Which meant hunting right back. A man did what he had to in order to survive.

Lawmakers scrambled to accommodate this unexpected development. How to integrate this subset of the population? When someone was accused of a crime, what laws should they use, human or beast? If a wolf bit, was it assault, or did he need a muzzle like a dog?

And who were the animals in disguise? In this politically correct world, could prospective employers ask on their applications? Was it discrimination to not want a werewolf working in a chicken factory? Should it be a status on driver's licenses?

The suspicions of who might be hiding a wolf under their clothing caused many a person to seek medication for anxiety, and the sale of aluminum foil skyrocketed as paranoia reached new heights. As for the weapons industry, their stock shot to record heights, as everyone wanted to arm themselves.

Accusations flew, slapping anyone who seemed different. Innocents died as neighbor turned on neighbor.

All of Brandon's family and friends chose to move underground, and by that, he meant they'd left their home-a home they'd held for generations in the Everglades. They changed their names as they split up and slipped into mainstream society. They had to struggle extra hard to appear normal. To appear human.

Not everyone could fake it. Some of the older generation chose to go wild and take to the swamps. Even in there, though, Brandon was a freak. He couldn't hide easily, not with what Bittech had done to him.

And I can't hide, not while Parker has my sister. The slimy bastard kept hopping around the country spreading his bullshit 'Let's all live together' spiel. Eventually, Brandon would catch up to Theo, and when he did...

Crunch.

In the meantime, he had to survive. The fact that he lived, unchained and able to roam the world, didn't help him. It didn't make him normal again. When people saw him, they saw the monster.

They screamed.

He got annoyed.

Eat them. Fresh meat made a man-and his reptile self-strong.

Too often he told his inner self-a now much colder, more cynical dark self-to calm the fuck down. No eating humans. But they did tempt him, especially when they smelled of chocolate. Being a monster had not diminished his sweet tooth.

As he crouched on a rooftop, a living gargoyle observing this new city, yet another place he couldn't blend in, he wondered why he even bothered to try.

Perhaps he should give up on finding answers or help for his monstrous dilemma. He should forget trying to regain normalcy and accept that this new look would stay with him forever. If he melted into the wilderness, went deep, deep into the woods and lived off the land, maybe he could stop the yearning. Perhaps, in time, he'd forget what it meant to be a man.

However, that would mean abandoning his sister, too.

With the rest of the family trying to keep themselves alive-and Wes doing his best to keep the special twins and Melanie out of science's reach-it left only Brandon who truly cared about one girl's fate.

Look at me, a real fucking hero. What a sad world he lived in when he was the last hope for his sister.

A whisper of sound alerted him to the fact that he shared the rooftop. He whirled and couldn't help but stare at the woman who stood behind him; willowy shaped, with long hair the color of moonlight, and eyes even stranger than his own. She canted her head to the side, perusing him.

It fascinated him that, even though she looked fully upon him, his features glaringly evident in the neon light of the sign overhead, she didn't run. She didn't scream. Inhaling deeply, she tilted her head back, revealing the smooth column of her throat.

Kill her now before she calls for help.

It would only take one bite of that smooth column. One bone-crunching chomp.

He shook his head. No. He wouldn't kill her, even if all his senses screamed that she meant danger.

Dangerous, how? All he could see was her fragile beauty- The impact slammed him to the ground. The air oomphed out of him as her lithe figure landed atop him with more force and weight than expected. A hand, a strong hand tipped in opalescent claws, dug into his throat. Her eyes stared down at him, the orbs slitted and burning with green fire. Her almost pure-white hair lifted and danced around her head.

She was fucking hot. And on top of him, very much on top of him, and a part of him that hadn't played with anything other than his hand since the change stirred with interest.

"What's this roaming my city? A male, both unmarked and unclaimed," she whispered, dipping down low. "I should take you right now."

Perhaps she should. A certain part of him certainly thought so, and it didn't help that she squirmed atop him.

The fingers around his throat squeezed, yet no panic infused him. If he was meant to die, then so be it. He tired of hiding. He was also curious.

Who is ssshe? Even his dark half took interest. It still thought she was dangerous, but neither man nor beast could deny her allure.

Her lips hovered devastatingly close, the heat of her breath warming his skin. "How did you come here? Tell me your name."

A name? What name should he give her? The one he'd started in the world with no longer seemed to fit. He was more than just a simple Brandon and, at the same time, less than the nave man he used to be.

"My name is..." Ace? No, he wouldn't use Ace either. That was Andrew's rude misnomer, the other madman involved in the genetic experiments at Bittech.

What did that leave?

"I am no one, and I come from..." Don't spread your taint to a town already devastated. "Nowhere. Who are you? What are you?" Because she smelled like him, but...different.

Sssmells yummy.

Very yummy. As in he wanted to lick her from head to toe yummy.

"What do you mean, what am I?" Her brow crinkled. "I am the same thing you are." Her shoulders drew back, her head tilted imperially, and for a moment, shadowy wings glistened silver at her back. "We are dragon."

At her serious claim, he gaped then snorted before he outright laughed.

"Why are you giggling?" She seemed perturbed at his reaction.

"Men don't giggle. We guffaw. And I'm guffawing because that is the most ridiculous thing I've heard. I'm no dragon. I'm nothing anymore but a fucking mess." Bitter words for a bitter fate.

"What is your family name? Who are you descended from?"

Was there any point in hiding? It wasn't as if anyone used his name anymore. "Mercer."

"Never heard of them. Are you from the European contingent?"

"More like Florida, and not from any hoity-toity pack or family either. Just one of several gators my ma popped out." He shrugged. "I'm not even the biggest. Wes has got like half an inch on me."

"You are not making any sense. There are no dragons in Florida on account of the seadrakes. They're very territorial."

"Listen, moonbeam, I think you might have forgotten to take your meds this morning. Dragons aren't real."

"But by your own words you believe in shifters?" Her lips quirked.

"Of course, because I am one, and given your lovely claws, I'm guessing you're one, too."

"No, I am dragon."

"Sure you are, and even if I believed you, dragons are still shifters."

"Don't let my mother hear you say that. She'll wash your mouth out with castor oil."

"Does your mother know you escaped your room?" A padded room he'd wager, given her delusion. Dragons. Really? He might be funny looking, but he wasn't gullible.

"I don't need permission to roam this city. Especially not from my mother."

"What about your father?"

"I don't have one anymore."

"Let me guess, he was a dragon, too." He couldn't stop the smirk.

"As a matter of fact, he was. We lost him to a plane accident."

"So, what, did he fly into a propeller?"

"Of course, not. It was a small Cessna plane, and it got caught in some cross winds and crashed. According to Mother, he was probably so worried about outing himself that he didn't abandon the craft and take flight." She shook her head. "Usually, he would have healed any injuries sustained, but I don't think he counted on the plane exploding when it landed."