Guarding katelyn paranor.., p.1
Guarding Katelyn (Paranormal Security Service Book 1), page 1
Guarding Katelyn
A Paranormal Security Service Novel
J Thompson
Copyright © 2019 J Thompson All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in articles and reviews.
This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out or otherwise circulated without the prior consent of the publisher in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination and are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
To my Chapter Chicks.
You are all amazing
Thank you
Contents
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
Also by J Thompson
Coming 2019
Chapter One
Katelyn checked the lock on her front door for the fourth time. She pushed and pulled at the doorknob, testing it, checking it was definitely locked. After sliding across the chain, she sighed and finally let herself relax. All the windows were locked—she had double checked them as soon as she got home and again before checking the front door.
Safe… Rest, her bird chirped in her mind. Some would say she had issues. She would say it was her bird who had the issues.
Katelyn sighed and ignored the voice in her head. She was now of the mind that she couldn’t be too careful, even if she lived two floors up in an apartment that had only two entry points. Safety was the most important thing for her, always had been. She’d just never taken it seriously before, hadn’t believed the stories her parents had told her were true. Life had now got to the point that she carried pepper spray everywhere she went and a flip knife in her purse.
Katelyn turned the light off in the small bathroom—after checking it was empty—before walking into the main room of her home. The kitchen, living room and bedroom occupied the same space, but she had separated them using some of those fancy vintage screens. Their silk was worn with age, but she had fallen in love with them the moment she saw them at the market.
The apartment itself was tiny, but she was happy with it. It was pricey, but so were most places in London. Hell, she was lucky she was able to rent on her own. A lot of the other available places had been shared accommodation, giving her only a bedroom to herself. Although she was limited on space, she had finally found contentment.
Collecting her evening meal from where it had been heating in the microwave, she grabbed a fork before curling up on her bed. She relaxed against the pillows as she ate. She had turned all the lights off, her vision comfortably adjusting to the dim shine of the streetlight filtering through the window. Its golden glow gilded the room, and as Katelyn ate, she settled further into the pillows. Outside, the hustle and bustle of London could still be heard; cars with their beeping horns, the laughter of the many enjoying their nightly ventures. The sounds had become Katelyn’s lullaby, sounds she was now completely used to and would miss if they weren’t present.
This had become her routine now. She spent her days doing the job she loved, photographing everything from people to buildings, and her evenings tucked up safe in her small home, watching the world go by.
The food quickly gone, she placed the container on her bedside table before picking up her large mug of hot chocolate. Wrapping her hands around the porcelain, she blew away the steam.
Life six months ago had been much different. She had been convinced there was no way out. Only, she had proved stronger than she thought. A shiver travelled up her spine as she thought of what could have been, and for the second time this day, her bird chirped.
Shhh, we escaped… We free.
Katelyn sighed and shifted on the bed. Her bird hated being reminded of what had happened. She hated the fact she wasn’t allowed out as much, but she had little choice.
Katelyn wasn’t just a normal girl, finding her way in the big city. No, she was one of a few breeds of shifter, of paranormal. Paranormals had, as an entirety, come out in the UK not long after they had in the USA, and as such, they were, in a way, famous. But not her. Katelyn kept her animal side quiet, shifting only when her bird was desperate for an escape. It was all well and good being able to shift, especially if you were a wolf, panther or even a dragon, but it wasn’t as simple when you were a bird of myth and legend. As a phoenix, she was rare, and most of the stories that told of how her kind had magical properties, were all, in fact, true. True to the point her breed of shifter was now hunted.
Katelyn had always embraced being a phoenix, but that didn’t mean she had revelled in it. At times, Katelyn had felt lacking as a paranormal in comparison to others. Other beings could breathe fire, grow claws and teeth that had the ability to rip someone’s face off. There were even some that had the gift of being able to vanish, a gift Katelyn, on more than one occasion, had wished for.
A phoenix, though… Well, Katelyn’s bird, the other half of her soul, couldn’t do any of that. In fact, she was the complete opposite of being fierce—not that Katelyn blamed her. They both lacked greatly in the defensive skill department—other than a set of three inch claws which would no doubt break on contact. Katelyn was lucky to be where she was at that very moment.
Katelyn and her bird sighed at the same time. Their skills centred around the subtle art of healing, and for a paranormal, that was a very important task indeed. Where most were immortal, some wounds could, in fact, cause a premature death. In the past, when wars were waged, there was always a phoenix behind the scenes, patching up warriors and sending them back into the fray. It was a proud position, and her kind were greatly sought. Now, her kind were pursued for a different reason.
Ever since she was a child, her parents had told her not to show her bird off, no matter how stunning she was to behold. The legends only hinted of the magnificence. They couldn't compare to seeing one in person, with their colours varying from golds all the way through to purples and everything in between. The tail feathers were long and elegant, sweeping down at over a metre in length, making her bird appear bigger than she actually was. It was those tail feathers that held another gift, one few knew about. They were capable of absorbing energy, mainly lighting. The uses were unclear to Katelyn. Her parents had never divulged that bit of information, and if truth be told, it had been lost to the history books too.
Her parents had also encouraged Katelyn to avoid making friends, to avoid all contact. But as she grew older, she began to understand how lonely she became. She craved contact, craved being with people, and if it meant she had to suppress her bird, then she would, because the idea of being alone her whole life, hurt.
As a photographer, Katelyn dealt with people every day, and she loved it, loved interacting. She had been warned that people would stop at nothing to profit from what a phoenix could do. Their feathers, tears and blood all had magical properties. A phoenix on the black market was a goldmine. Alive, they could fund small operations for years. Dead, they could be sold for instant cash. As a young chick, she had never really taken the warnings seriously, thinking her parents had made them up to scare her.
Unfortunately, everything they had warned her about was true.
She had been happy living just outside of Manchester, in the small town of Salford. As with all Phoenix families, her parents encouraged her to move into her own place. They did this so they wouldn’t be clustered together. Being clustered like that made them an even bigger target for those who dealt in the black market and profited from shifter trafficking.
So they separated for their own protection, and Katelyn felt the sting of loneliness regularly. She missed her mum and dad, missed her younger sister. They spoke daily, either by phone call from a local phone box or over a special website that had been created for her kind. It was a chat room of sorts, keeping her kind from all around the world up to date on information about places they should avoid, known dealers, and safe havens. Ashes.com had been her companion since her escape from the north. Chatting to other phoenixes had helped to hold back that sting of being alone, but not for long.
A yawn fought its way to the surface, and Katelyn placed her mug on the table before sliding under the covers. She smiled to herself as she thought of the exciting day she had coming up; a chance to photograph the Fabergé collection for a magazine.
Slowly, she drifted off, her earlier worries forgotten as she dreamed of diamonds and pearls bathed in red flames.
Chapter Two
Trent shifted once again in his seat. Even in business class he struggled to get comfortable. His size just didn't allow it, and Hilda had refu
The air hostess had helped alleviate his discomfort, making sure he was comfortable for the majority of the flight. Hell, she had made it obvious that if he gave her the nod, she would drop her panties and give up the goods.
He had been tempted… but decided against it. She was a stunning little thing, he would admit, but she did nothing for him. It had been this way for a while, ever since he hit the youthful age of one hundred. His brain was on board, but his body was simply not interested in the opposite sex, be it human or paranormal, and it pissed him off. He loved sex, and from the reactions of the few partners he had bedded, he wasn’t half bad at it.
Trent chewed on his thumb as he looked out the window, watching the fields and trees growing ever closer as the plane circled and descended towards the landing strip.
A new life in London awaited him. He was ready for it. He cared deeply for his friends back in the US but had become increasingly detached as, one by one, they fell to Cupid’s bow, each finding a mate that settled and grounded them, until he was left on his own with no clue what the hell his body, mind or heart wanted. He felt torn, at a loss, and hoped the change in scenery, as well as helping Suzanna set up the new office of the Paranormal Security Service, would help.
The beep of the tanoy caused Trent to look up, although there was nothing to look up at.
Good morning, this is your captain speaking. On behalf of myself and my co-pilot, we would like to thank you for flying with BAS Airways. The time in London is 9:28a.m. And the weather is cloudy, sitting at a cool twelve degrees centigrade. We hope you have had a pleasant flight and will fly with us again.
Please, on landing, make sure you have all your belongings.
We wish you a pleasant day.
Cloudy... Ha! Trent smirked. London was famous for having dull weather, or perhaps that was England in general. He had always wanted to travel, but had more exotic climes than London in mind.
His stomach flipped as the plane started to descend faster, readying itself for touchdown. His senses picked up on the landing wheels lowering, and he heard heartbeats all over the plane speed up in response.
Ten minutes later, they touched down. Any longer and Trent would have started to get twitchy. He had been sat far too long, and both sides of his nature wanted out of the metal tube. He wanted away from the constant flirtatious looks being sent his way from not only the females, but some of the males as well. As a paranormal, he was lucky to have not aged since the day he turned thirty, but also thanks to his other side, the one that wasn’t a gargoyle, he gave off an aura to attract those of the opposite sex. He spent most of his life ignoring that part. He didn’t want nor need it. But sometimes, like now, it slipped around his defences and attracted attention he did not want. Not that he knew what it was. It was something his mother had never felt the need to tell him. All she had whispered upon occasion, when she was drunk, was demon. That had never narrowed it down as there were many factions of demons that resided around the world.
Sliding out of the plush leather, Trent collected his duffle bag from the overhead compartment and made his way to the exit. That’s all the luggage he had. Clothes, he could buy anywhere, and he had ever set down enough roots in one place to acquire things. If he was honest, as long as there was a bed, food and a bathroom, he was set.
Moving quickly past his fellow passengers, he growled under his breath, annoyed with how slow they were. Trent’s extended period in such a confined space made him twitchy. He needed out. Now.
“So, how was your flight?” Suzanna’s posh English accent pulled Trent from his thoughts as he looked out the window of the limo he had been collected in. His new co-boss had been waiting for him at arrivals. She was stunning, and had gained looks of admiration from every single person in that airport. Men drooled and women looked on with envy.
Yet Trent felt nothing. It was like he had turned to stone inside.
Suzanna was tall, over six feet, and had long platinum blonde hair that had been braided and fell to her arse. Her body was slender. There was something almost predatory about her, but he knew she wasn’t a vampire. He had not been told what kind of paranormal she was, and it would be rude of him to ask.
“As flights go, it was ok,” he answered, and smiled, a small lift of his lips. “Glad to be back on the ground though.”
“Yeah, I feel the same way after a flight. Somehow, being trapped in a long metal tube hurtling at high speed doesn’t make me feel all that safe.” She chuckled before changing the subject. “I’ve set you up in a flat in the same building as the office, just until you get your bearings. London is a rabbit warren. Even after my long stay, I still get lost.”
“Thank you. I really appreciate it. How many have we got on the books?” Trent asked, wanting to get on with the work he had been assigned.
“At the moment, five, including yourself. A couple of shifters, a demon, and a fairy.” He watched as she counted them off on her fingers. “The shifters are good workers, have put a lot of effort in. The demon and fairy, though… You may need to help me with. They seem to not like each other. All of them are on protection detail, which I know you have experience with. So they are your babies.” Suzanna shrugged.
“I will see what I can do, and I would appreciate any work you can send my way. I like to keep busy,” Trent admitted.
“You don’t want to settle in?” she asked, and he could see the curiosity in her eyes. She wanted to know more. She could want all she liked.
“No need,” was all he said as the limo pulled in front of a large building. A small golden plaque was screwed to the outside. The only evidence of what was housed inside.
PSS - London Branch.
“I like your style. Go straight in and up to the top floor, and I will see you in the office shortly,” Suzanna called as she slid out of the limo after him and made her way to the glass doors.
“Coffee will be waiting.”
Chapter Three
The apartment—or flat, as the Brits like to say—was surprisingly spacious and a hell of a lot bigger than he had expected. Hell, even the bathroom was bigger than his bedroom back home, Trent thought as he poked his head into the room. Its door was the first on the right in the hallway. To the left were another three doors. All were closed.
Technically, his place in the US hadn’t been his home. Trent hadn’t truly felt at home since he had been a child. He’d had places to stay and sleep, but nowhere he could put down roots.
Bag in hand, Trent walked through the hallway and out into the open-plan living area. The apartment was fully furnished and had been decorated in a simple, contemporary style. No garish colours assaulted his senses, only subtle greys, black and white
Dumping his bag on the sofa, Trent stood and looked out the window that travelled the full length of the kitchen and living area. His new view was a strange contrast to what he was used to. The traffic was the same in any city, no matter where in the world you travelled, yet the buildings here were not as high, and, surprisingly, there was a lot more greenery than back home.
Home… Where was home for a loner such as him? He didn't think he had ever felt like he belonged anywhere.
