Unleashed (Dark Moon Shifters #1)

by Bella Jacobs

  “So, yeah,” I say, breath rushing out. “It was kind of like that. I’m taking the news in stride and trying to make the best of it, but I understand why you want out. If I weren’t the only Fata Morgana alive, I would want out, too. But as of now, I don’t see that I really have a choice, so—”

  “Of course you have a choice.” Luke’s brow furrows in what looks like genuine confusion. “You tell these assholes to fuck themselves and get out of here. Run, hide, enjoy what’s left of your life. Let the world save itself.”

  “The world isn’t going to save itself,” Dust says softly.

  “Then let it burn.” Luke shrugs before nodding my way. “She didn’t start any of this. It’s not her responsibility to fix it. And it isn’t mine, either. I already spent seven years behind bars. I’m not going to spend the rest of my life fighting and dying for a lost cause.”

  “Then you can go. Just promise not to hurt us on your way out.” I start forward, holding a hand out to Dust when he tries to stop me again. “No, this is my choice. I know what’s at risk, and I want to let him go. I would rather be weaker than steal strength from someone who’s not willing to give it. I need the key for the lock.” I wait, hand outstretched, until Dust finally digs into the front pocket of his black suit pants and places the key in my palm with a sigh.

  Luke cocks his head as I approach, watching me with guarded eyes when I crouch down beside him and work open the padlock holding his chains in place. “You’re a decent person, princess.”

  “Thank you,” I say, trying not to be distracted by the intensity of his personal energy. He has the aura of an explosive that might detonate at any moment, and I don’t want to be caught in the blast.

  “You’re also going to die,” he says flatly. “Decent people don’t last long on the streets or the battlefield. You better toughen up and toughen up quick.”

  I loosen his chains and step back as he shrugs them off. “I’ll take that under advisement.”

  I feel the men tense behind me, ready to jump in if Luke tries to hurt me, but he simply stands, holding my gaze in the murky light as he says, “You need someone to teach you how to not die.”

  “That would probably be helpful.”

  Luke scrubs a hand across his jaw, his whiskers making a shushing sound that’s strangely pleasant. “And I need a new life somewhere they won’t send me back to prison for violating my parole.” He glances over my shoulder at Dust. “Maybe we can find a way to work together. At least for a little while. I train your princess the way you wanted. In exchange, you get me across the border with new I.D., new papers, everything I need for a fresh start.”

  Dust grunts. “And why would I do that? If you aren’t willing to commit to keeping her alive long term? Anyone can teach her how to fight.”

  “Not the way I can,” Luke says simply. The lack of arrogance in his tone makes me believe him, though I can’t imagine myself becoming much of a fighter, no matter who’s in charge of my training.

  “What we need is a canine shifter with the mark willing to go all in,” Dust insists. “Without that, our chances of living through this go down by twenty-five percent.”

  “Not my problem,” Luke says callously. “And that’s my final offer. Take it or leave it.” His eyes lift to the ceiling. “But I would suggest you make a decision quickly, friend, before someone else makes it for you.”

  “What does—”

  Creedence cuts Dust off with a hand in the air and a shushing sound. His brow furrows as he cocks his head. “Sirens. Maybe three miles out, but closing in fast.”

  Dust spins back to Luke to growl, “What have you done?”

  “Nothing I had any control over. No one asked if I was tagged before they threw me in the back of their van or locked me up in their basement.” He lifts the leg of his jeans, revealing an ankle bracelet ringed by flashing red lights. “You’re lucky my parole officer is a junkie who forgets what day it is half the time or this would have been over a lot sooner.”

  Creedence curses while Kite backs across the room, saying, “I’ll grab the emergency bags. Creedence get the car to the rendezvous spot. We’ll meet you there.”

  “No, let me do it.” Dust claps Creedence on the back. “You and Wren head for the woods. We’ll meet you on the other side.”

  “What about him?” Creedence jabs a thumb toward Luke.

  “He’s coming with me.” Dust turns to Luke, his eyes narrowing as he nods curtly. “I accept your terms, but no papers until you hold up your end of the bargain.”

  “I keep my word,” Luke says, jaw clenched tight. “I’ll train her like no shifter’s been trained before. Assuming I don’t end up leaving here in cuffs.”

  Dust’s lips tilt up on one side. “I’m good at hiding things that don’t want to be found. But we need to get out of here. Now.”

  Luke hesitates a second, but apparently decides he’s out of options—he either takes a chance on us or stays put and gets taken into police custody—and hurries after Dust as the other man starts for the stairs.

  Creedence arches a brow as he closes the distance between us. “Well, this is it, Slim. Are you staying the course or making a run for the nearest cop car?”

  I blink, surprised that the thought hadn’t crossed my mind until this instant.

  “I wouldn’t blame you,” Creedence says, lowering his voice as he adds, “And I’ll let you go if that’s what you want. Like you, I think people ought to choose their own quests. Especially when the chances of dying on said quest are unusually high.”

  I hesitate, searching his golden eyes. “And if I walk away…”

  “Things have a way of working out or…not working out.” He rolls a nonchalant shoulder as he studies the chains strewn across the floor. “Personally, I would like to leave my nieces and nephews a world better than this one, but despite all the shit I’ve seen in my life, I tend to think there’s something more. Something after this life for those who’ve lived right.” He turns back to me, holding my gaze. “And those kids are already living right. They’ll be okay, even if we don’t save the world.”

  His words break my heart and make my decision for me. “I’m not ready to give up on this planet. Or the people I love finding happiness while they’re still on it.”

  Creedence smiles. “Then we should get going. Judging by the sirens, our police friends aren’t obeying posted speed limits. They’re going to be here soon.”

  I’m about to ask how long we have when I hear the sirens keening through the air, not nearly distant enough for comfort. Without another word, I bolt for the stairs, moving fast for a girl with a gunshot wound. Still, by the time Creedence and I reach the back deck, where dusk is giving way to night, I hear wheels churning in the gravel of the front drive.

  “Jump, I’ll catch you.” Creedence leaps easily over the deck railing to land softly in the grass on the other side. I swing one leg over the wooden rail, hesitating a split second before forcing myself to make the five-foot leap to the ground.

  As promised, Creedence catches me, swinging me in a circle before setting me down on the grass and taking my hand. And then we run, sprinting for the tree line behind the property as a voice on a bullhorn shouts for us to stop and put our hands up.

  But we don’t. We cling tight to each other’s fingers as we disappear into the shadows of the forest.

  Chapter 18

  Wren

  Creedence and I emerge from the woods onto a gravel road fifteen minutes later and tumble into the softly idling car crouched in the near darkness with the lights off.

  We did it! We made it out without anyone getting hurt, shot, or arrested!

  But inside, the car it isn’t as crowded as I expect it to be.

  Buckling up, I scan the cab—Dust is driving and Kite is in the passenger’s seat, leaving the back for Creedence and me. “Where’s Luke?”

  Kite jabs a thumb over his shoulder. “Trunk. Figured better safe than sorry in case we get pulled over.”

&nb
sp; “I’m cloaking the signal on the tracking device, so we should be fine,” Dust says, shifting the car into drive. “Of course, if he’d been checked before he was chained I would have known it was there earlier, all of this could have been avoided, and we’d still have a safe house.”

  “I apologize.” A hard smile curves Creedence’s lips, his teeth bright in the shadows as Dust picks up speed and moonlight flashes into the car through the trees. “I’m sorry, friends, for forgetting to check to see if the wolf a bunch of other wolves delivered to our hideout in chains was wearing an ankle bracelet. Though, in my defense, one would think the pack would have taken care of that themselves if they were truly interested in helping our cause and not intending to royally fuck up our world-saving plans. They had to have known he was on parole.”

  Kite grunts. “You think it was deliberate.”

  “I try not to think,” Creedence says. “Thinking causes wrinkles, but I’m sure Dust can figure out if we’re being deliberately fucked up the ass. Since he’s the brains of the operation and all.”

  “Cut the shit, Creedence,” Dust mutters.

  “I’m serious. No shit, Sherlock. You’re the fearless leader. I just work here.” Creedence stretches his arms out across the back of the seat, tapping me lightly on the shoulder as he adds in a softer voice, “How you holding up, Slim?”

  “Good.” I give my ribs an experimental wiggle. “My chest was aching a bit while we were running, but I think I’m almost back to normal. Better than normal. Is that possible? So quickly?”

  “Not for me,” Creedence says with a wink. “But I’m not the chosen one. Who knows what you’ll be able to do once we get you patched up and shifting and hurling thunderbolts or whatever your thing is.”

  Before I can ask what kind of powers a Fata Morgana might have aside from being able to shift into multiple forms, Dust clears his throat pointedly from the front seat.

  “She’s never going to figure out what her ‘thing’ is if we’re detained by the police or hunted down by Kin Born forces before Wren has time to heal and train. That safe house was supposed to be our home base for the next three months.”

  “We can find another one,” Kite says. “There are lots of vacation rentals up here.”

  “That’s going to require I.D., a bank account, and a paper trail,” Creedence says. “All things we either don’t have or can’t afford to share.”

  “And money is tight until my next meeting with our handler, which isn’t for three more weeks,” Dust says. “I have an emergency number, but that’s only for use in an actual emergency, not because one of us was too stupid to make sure we stayed off human law enforcement’s radar.”

  “You are such a passive-aggressive shit,” Creedence says pleasantly. “Where I come from, you’re lucky to get one ‘I’m sorry.’ Keep pushing and I’ll take my apology and go home.”

  “Speaking of home,” Kite says, a hopeful note threading into his voice. “We’re not far from my tribe’s land, and normal cops don’t have jurisdiction there. Our tribal police force calls the shots and one of my sisters is the captain. She’ll make sure we’re safe if anyone comes looking.”

  “What about your family?” Creedence asks. “The human authorities aren’t the only threat, or even the worst one. If the Kin Born track you down while you’re shacking up with the other pooh bears, they won’t spare the innocent. They’ll kill every man, woman, and child to send a message to anyone else who thinks peace, love, and acceptance are good ideas. They aren’t fucking around, and you know it.”

  Kite turns, his eyes shadowed in the dark as he says, “My people know what I’m signed up for, and they’re on board for whatever comes next.”

  Creedence makes a doubtful sound low in his throat.

  “We’re coastal people,” Kite continues. “Half the land we were originally deeded is underwater, and the U.S. government isn’t in any rush to approve our petition for an expansion inland. If environmental damage continues and the sea levels keep rising, in a hundred years there won’t be any reservation left. My people’s way of life, traditions dating back thousands of years, and the safety our tribal lands have provided to our community will be lost. Our success is my tribe’s only chance of survival, and they’re willing to take risks to win back the future.”

  I reach out, giving Kite’s shoulder a gentle squeeze. “That’s very brave of them. Of you. But let’s keep brainstorming. Surely we can find somewhere to lay low that won’t put anyone else at risk.”

  But by the time we reach the outskirts of Conway—a one-horse town with a faded main street about two blocks long—an hour later, no one has come up with a better idea and a visit to Kite’s neck of the woods is looking like our only option.

  Dust pulls into the parking lot of what was once Paco’s Mexican Grill and around to the back of the clearly abandoned restaurant. The roof of the building sags ominously in the middle, weeds sprout from the cracks in the sidewalk near the entrance, and as we emerge into the cool night air, the scent of mothballs and rotting wood wheezes from the building like a sad perfume.

  “I’ll get Luke out and take him for a walk,” Dust says, circling around to the back of the car. “Let him get some air and stretch his legs while I keep the cloaking active on the device. It looks like there’s a hardware store at the end of the street, but it won’t open until morning. Creedence, you come with me to do recon. Kite, you’re in charge of keeping an eye on Wren.”

  “Afraid to be alone with the ex-con, huh?” Creedence asks as he joins Dust beside the trunk. “Need me to hold your hand?”

  “If we run into trouble, I won’t be able to fight and keep him cloaked at the same time,” Dust says tiredly, clearly in no mood for teasing.

  “Want to take a walk?” Kite asks me, nodding toward the rear of the parking lot and the open field behind it. “If you’re feeling up to it?”

  “Sure. A walk sounds good.”

  “Check in every thirty minutes,” Dust says. “You have your cell with the cloaking device, correct? Please tell me we didn’t leave that at the house along with all the food and medical supplies.”

  Kite pulls his phone from his front pocket. “I’ve got it. I’ll give my family a call while we’re out, too, let them know we’re on our way.”

  Dust nods as he pops the trunk. “At least for now it seems like our best option.” He reaches down, helping Luke out of the trunk. The slightly shorter man emerges with a graceful roll, landing on his feet and immediately turning to scan his surroundings, his hands lifting and curling lightly into fists. But he seems more relaxed than he did before, making me think his vigilance is more habit than inspired by anything that’s happened in the past hour.

  He even thanks Dust for the hand up before stretching his neck sharply to one side, sending an audible crack through the quiet darkness.

  Creedence winces and lifts a hand our way. “Later, Romeo and Juliet. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

  “I have a feeling he’d do just about anything,” I say to Kite. “So that gives us plenty of options.”

  “Sassy wench,” Creedence says, making me laugh as we go our separate ways.

  Chapter 19

  Wren

  “Well, at least one of us is back on your good side,” Kite says as we amble off the cracked and crumbling pavement into the short grass at the edge of the field. “Creedence is one of those people, though. You can’t stay mad at him. Even when he deserves it.”

  I smile. “Seems that way. I obviously haven’t known him long, but he’s funny. And kinder than he would like people to believe, I think.”

  “Agreed,” Kite says. “He’ll tease you until you’re ready to rip his hair out, but he’s not a bad guy. And at least he’s here of his own free will.”

  “Luke is now, too.” I amend with a sigh, “For now.”

  “What about you?’ Kite studies my face as we start across the sea of hay, all silver in the moonlight. “Still planning to ditch us all at the earlie
st opportunity?”

  I shake my head. “No. Dust’s vision-sharing was pretty convincing.”

  “He could have been making it up,” Kite says, playing devil’s advocate.

  “He could have,” I agree. “But I knew Dust pretty well back in the day. He had his faults, but he was never a liar. He was actually a good friend to me when we were kids.”

  “Hard to imagine him as a kid. Was he stuffy even back then?”

  I smile. “No, he wasn’t. He was kind of a rascal. Funny, too.”

  Kite pulls a face. “Nah. I’m not buying that, Bird Girl. That man’s about as funny as a sack of smashed crackers.”

  I laugh. “Nothing sadder than a bag of smashed crackers. But I swear, it’s true.” I cross my arms over my waist, sobering as I add, “The vision felt true, too. It almost felt like I’d seen that monster, Atlas, before.” I pause, brow furrowing as pieces of my dream come back to me. “Right before I woke up at the farmhouse, I dreamt about a face in the sky. A man’s face, and when he opened his mouth, there were people writhing inside of him.”

  Kite makes an unhappy noise low in his throat. “You should tell Dust about that. He’s supposed to communicate any sign that your powers are coming online to the higher ups. You should tell my mom about it, too, once we get to my family’s place. She has prophecy dreams. She might be able to help you sort out what your dream meant, see if there’s anything there that might help us get ready to face Atlas.”

  I blink, the strangeness of my new life hitting me all over again. “My first instinct is still to say there’s no way I could be prophesizing the future in my dreams, but…maybe I am.” I look up at the moon, so big and nearly full in the sky. “I mean, from what I’ve gathered, there are shifters with supernatural powers spread out all over the world, fighting their own battles and dreaming their own dreams, and up until a few hours ago I would have sworn all of that was fiction. Horror movie stuff.”