by Heather Karn
Giving up, I raced across the basement to our apartment. Raven had left the first aid kit on the counter in the kitchenette, and I opened it and pulled out the bandages and gauze. Since I didn’t have anything else handy, I rewrapped my hand, focusing my efforts around the skin between my thumb and first finger to cushion the pen away from my wounds. Satisfied, I taped the bandage in place and ran back to Raven’s office, hoping I’d beat him back.
I didn’t.
He sat behind his desk, arching an eyebrow at me when I trotted back inside. Avoiding his stern gaze, I sat back down in my chair before noticing the pancakes sitting beside my paperwork. They were drenched in syrup, and a mug of hot chocolate sat beside the plate. My stomach grumbled, reminding me I had yet to eat today when the sweet smells filled my mouth.
With difficulty because of my wounded hand, I cut a piece off the first pancake and stuck it in my mouth. While I chewed, I picked the pen back up and started writing where I’d left off, which was where Raven told me I was driving. Yeah, I hadn’t gotten far. After a few minutes, I took another bite and went back to writing.
“Southpaw, huh?” Raven inquired when I’d worked my way halfway through the stack of pancakes and had nearly a page written. “Next time I guess you’ll be more careful about which hand you sacrifice to a ghoul’s mouth.”
“Your pep talks need work,” I muttered, too miserable to care if he took offense to my statement. When he chuckled, I relaxed a little. He didn’t speak again, but went back to his work, likely writing up his own mission report on the laptop. The tapping keys were little distraction to me since I was able to tune them out easily.
The next problem showed itself in the form of a hand cramp. It had been so long since I’d written this much by hand. School reports and essays had always been written via my laptop. Any professor at the university would have laughed me to scorn had I turned in a handwritten assignment. If only they could see me now. The more I wrote, the sloppier my handwriting became, and I fought to keep it legible. Any other day, I would have massaged my hand. Since it was wounded, that wasn’t an option.
Leaning back in the chair, I studied my work. It was a mess. Nothing I could do would make it worse, so I elected to switch the pen to my right hand. It was the most awkward position of all time, but at least I’d be able to give my wounded hand a break.
By the time I finished writing the report, I was miserable, which was likely the whole point of this exercise. Knowing the kinder hearted Avery, he’d let Lee type out his papers and sign them before scanning and sending them to Raven. But, if this was my punishment, I’d take it without complaint. At least I was still here to write the report.
With more flourish than I usually put in my signature, I signed my name at the bottom of the final sheet and flipped to the first page of my written report. When I set it on Raven’s desk, he glanced at it before going back to whatever he was doing without any other acknowledgement. Figured.
Since I was finished eating, and Raven didn’t tell me to stay for more agonizing paperwork, I took my dishes upstairs to wash them. Never had I missed Clara more than today. My aching hand wanted me to call her up and pay her every cent I owned to come over and wash my dishes, but Raven wouldn’t have approved. In fact, I wasn’t sure anyone was supposed to know we lived here. Likely the neighbors did, but few others would have reason to know.
Once the dishes were washed, dried, and put back away, I leaned against the cupboard. Raven hadn’t given me any other directions about what I was supposed to do this morning. Peering at the clock hanging on the wall in the kitchen, I found there was at least another half hour until lunch time. That meant I could get in some training before we ate. Even though I’d just finished breakfast, I was ready for less sugary foods.
When I descended the stairs, I found Raven’s office door still open, and my stomach tightened. Did I dare ask him to help me train? I didn’t want to get my butt handed to me again after only five minutes of training, but I needed help. I could throw a punch into thin air all I wanted and still wouldn’t improve. What I needed was better reflexes and to learn any tips and tricks he might know. Groaning, I resolved myself to my fate and stalked toward his office.
He looked up when I entered, arching a brow as if to ask what I wanted. Swallowing hard, I tried not to fidget. Raven was my trainer. This was what he was supposed to do.
“If you aren’t too busy, could you help me train? Not like yesterday. Maybe a bit less…intense?”
Raven smirked before turning back to his computer, hitting a few more buttons, and then stood. “I’ll try to be less intense, but I will push you.”
“Just as long as I improve without winding up in a hospital.”
“I think we can handle that.”
When we reached the mats closest to his office, I stepped near the middle and took up a defensive stance. Raven eyed my bandaged hand while he mimicked me. His eyes narrowed before he let his hands drop to rest on his hips and he pivoted to face me straight on.
“You’re a southpaw. Why are you in the orthodox stance? Didn’t they teach you how to fight like a southpaw?”
“I’m not sure they cared that I was lefthanded.”
“They should have. That gives you an advantage against more opponents. Mirror your stance. Instead of your left foot forward, turn so your right hand and foot are in front.” Raven growled as I did as he directed. “I’m going to have to mention this to General Davis. That school should be teaching southpaw to everyone, but especially the lefties. Now, jab.”
He held his hands out in front of him, clearly wanting me to aim at and hit them. Was this another one of his tests to see if I’d be ready for a counterattack? Regretting my decision to train with him today, I threw my right fist forward, smacking it into his hands and drawing it back just as fast to protect my face. When he didn’t retaliate, my eyes widened.
“Again. Jab. Five in a row.”
My fist smacked his open palms five times before I drew back, waiting for his next direction. He eyed my left hand before nodding slightly.
“Five crosses.”
Forcing myself not to close my eyes and groan, I focused my attention back on his hands. I struck out with my left hand, waiting for pain to explode in my hand. When my fist struck, I almost sighed in relief when the pain wasn’t nearly as bad as I’d prepared myself for. Five crosses was still not a walk in the park, but it was tolerable.
I lost track of time as Raven and I practiced strike after strike in the southpaw stance. Then he moved to blocking where he’d strike and I’d have to block him. Since I already knew how to throw punches correctly, I had to focus less on form and more on throwing the right punch and which way I blocked.
“Enough.” Raven’s voice was gruff, but a glimmer of pride shown in his eyes before it disappeared. “Let’s give that hand a break. You did well. We’ll practice this again after lunch. You need to be just as comfortable, if not more, in this position as you are in the orthodox stance. Now, let’s go find Lee. It’s his turn to prepare lunch.”
“Does everyone take turns with the meals?” If Lee was prepping lunch, I was in trouble.
“Yes. Even I take a turn every now and again, although everyone prefers if I don’t.” He grinned, his tiny fangs showing. “I have a unique sense of taste apparently. To me, everything tastes delicious, but no one else thinks that, so I’ve been ordering pizza.”
“Can I order Chinese food when it’s my turn to cook?”
“Why?” Raven asked as we entered the dining room. Lee was just setting out the last of his homemade sub sandwiches.
My brother snorted. “You don’t want to eat Koda’s cooking. In fact, I’ll pull double duty to keep her out of the kitchen. If we ever take prisoners, feed them one of her better dishes and they’ll be spouting out every secret they know so they won’t have to eat anything else she cooks.”
I stuck my tongue out at him. So much for family loyalty, truth or not.
We were halfway
through lunch when Raven’s phone rang. He pulled it from his pocket and stared at the screen. His brows furrowed as he set it on the table and answered on speaker.
“Chief, what can we help you with?”
“It’s the city police chief,” Avery whispered in explanation to Lee and I before the man on the other end spoke.
“We have a problem, and I know you said you’d be willing to help more, so I thought you might want in on this.”
“Okay…” Raven held out the word when the police chief stopped speaking. “What’s the problem?”
Chapter 9
The chief cleared his throat, sounding nervous, and his voice trembled when he spoke. “We received a report of a four-year-old racoon shifter kit who went missing. We’re investigating, but we’re shorthanded and running out of time.”
“When did the kit go missing?” Raven asked as everyone at the table focused on what the chief said.
“We received the call at around four o’clock this morning.”
“And you’re just now calling us?” Raven barked. “I spoke to you this morning. Why didn’t you mention it then? Have you been able to stop the trash services in the area?”
The man’s voice shook even more the angrier Raven became. “We’re still working on it. It’s not as easy as it sounds.”
“Then hurry up. Where are you?”
The chief gave Raven his location, and without saying another word to the man, Raven hung up. He stared across the table at Avery, whose lips were pressed together in a thin, white line. Even Luella appeared grim and concerned.
“If they got the call at four, the kit was likely missing for a few hours before that,” Avery murmured. “I’d say it’s been missing for close to twelve hours. And if they haven’t been able to stop the garbage services, our chances are even lower of finding the kit.”
“Why?” Lee asked, his gaze hopping from Avery to Raven.
“We’ll discuss it in the SUV,” Raven growled, slamming a fist on the table. “That man needs to be reassigned. Too many times he’s called us in too late. I hope this isn’t another one of those times. Grab your weapons. Koda, use the bathroom. We’re out of here in ten minutes.”
With practiced chaos, the others ran from the room without colliding. Since they all lived upstairs, they headed in one direction while Raven and I ran toward the basement. I let him lead since he was faster, and I didn’t want to hold him up if he ran behind me.
Since I still wore comfy workout clothes, I slammed my bedroom door shut, grabbed a clean pair of jeans and a dark t-shirt and shut myself in the bathroom. After last night, I’d learned my lesson, and when I was done in the bathroom and changed, I opened the bedroom door. When I caught sight of Raven leaving his bedroom, I stopped myself and turned around. He’d said to go to the bathroom, yes, but he’d also said to grab weapons. I wasn’t leaving this house without at least a pair of knives. They’d saved me last night, and while this mission didn’t sound dangerous, I hadn’t thought it would be dangerous to use a gas station bathroom either.
Clipping knives to my belt, in my boots, and around my thighs, I took a deep breath and ran through a mental list of what I had needed to accomplish. When I couldn’t think of anything else, I turned around and yelped when I caught sight of Raven’s large form standing in the doorway. I’d known he’d left his room, but I hadn’t heard him approach.
He held up a black shirt. “This is Luella’s, but you’ll need to borrow it today. She’s the only female close to your size. Since we’re running short on time, slip it on over the t-shirt. Tomorrow we’ll see about acquiring a uniform for you.” Raven tossed me the shirt and I slid it on over my head. It was snug in some places and loose in others. Luella and I were similar in height, but she definitely had more of a chest than I did, and thinner hips. This shirt did nothing for what little figure I had to show off. In fact, it accentuated all the wrong parts.
But now wasn’t the time to worry about my looks. A child was missing. I had to stay focused on the mission so I wouldn’t screw up again. Doing so once already this soon after becoming a trainee was enough.
Following Raven from the room, we jogged to the stairs and raced through the house to the front foyer. Shannon was already there, as was a large, gray and black wolf. Jackson caught me staring and nodded. I returned the greeting as Raven stalked over to the staircase.
“We’re heading to the car. Be there in one minute or we leave you. Luella, if you’re still messing with your hair, you’re fired,” he bellowed, his words echoing around the large room. There was no way the last three didn’t hear him.
Shannon and Jackson were already moving toward the door connecting the house to the garage when I turned back to them. Following their lead, I raced after them, not wanting Raven’s wrath aimed at me today. He caught up to me as I reached the garage and headed for the same SUV we’d used last night.
“Koda, grab the keys. You’re driving again.”
Raven’s words stopped me, and no matter how much I wanted to groan that he was making me drive the team again, I walked to where the keys hung and grabbed the one for the SUV. Besides being daylight out, this was feeling far too similar to last night’s nightmare. Sliding in behind the wheel, I found the seat and mirrors to be exactly as I’d left them. Raven hadn’t adjusted a thing when he’d driven us home. He’d planned for me to drive the team again.
I wanted to cuff him in the ear for thinking ahead like that, but I refrained, opening the garage door instead. Luella ran from inside the house, followed closely by Avery and Lee, who happened to be wearing a uniform shirt at least a size too large. Since Avery wasn’t as broad shouldered as Lee, Avery’s shirts would never fit him. The only person who was large enough to share a shirt with my brother was Raven.
Before Raven could order me to head out, I turned the key and shifted into drive as Avery slammed the car door behind him. Like last night, Raven placed his phone in the clip with the GPS running so I’d know where to go. I wanted to thank him for it, but followed the instructions instead. Right now, even if I’d known where our location was, I’d need the GPS since my brain wasn’t thinking clearly.
“Lee, you wanted to know why we’re running out of time, correct? Why our chances of finding the kit are so low?” Avery asked him, speaking loud enough that all of us could hear, but likely was meant for me since everyone else knew the answers.
“Yeah, what’s going on?” Lee asked back, still catching his breath from running to the car.
“Like normal racoons, the racoon shifters like to go through the garbage to find scraps. They prefer it over making meals of their own, which is fine. Less food goes to waste that way. However, sometimes the kits decide to go off on their own and either get lost or fall into dumpsters and can’t get out without help. If the dumpster is emptied before the kit can escape, it falls into the rear of the garbage truck where it is likely to be crushed from the weight of all the trash, or suffocated. If it happens to survive the daily route, it’s emptied into the landfill where it will face the same circumstances.”
“If they can’t climb out of the dumpster on their own, why don’t they just shift and climb out themselves instead of waiting for someone else?” Lee questioned.
“Koda, how old are racoon shifters when they first shift into human form?” Raven asked, and I fought to remember the information without causing an accident or being hit by someone else. Where had all the traffic come from at this time of the day?
“Umm, about five?”
“You really are an encyclopedia, aren’t you?” he asked, his voice dry with sarcasm.
“Call me that again and I’ll bleach all of your clothes,” I warned in a low voice before I could stop myself. He had the nerve to laugh at that before growing serious once again.
“If they don’t wind up falling in a dumpster, there’s always animal and shifter predators. Not all shifters obey the laws that say they shouldn’t attack other shifters, and animals don’t know any better. Tho
ugh, if they haven’t found the kit’s remains yet, it’s likely it fell into a dumpster. If it’s lost, someone would have reported seeing it by now.”
“You don’t think we’ll find the kit alive,” I murmured, daring a quick glance at the tense set of Raven’s jaw as he stared straight outside the windshield.
“It’s unlikely. I’ve been wrong before, and I hope I am now, but it doesn’t look good.”
My heart wanted me to speed and honk the horn at everyone going the speed limit, but I kept focus as my brain won the fight with my heart. Emotion in a time like this would only make the situation worse. We’d had that beaten into us, figuratively, over and over in our defensive classes in college. I hadn’t realized then how difficult that could be when a child’s life was on the line. Then again, if we were involved in an accident on the way to the scene, it would take us longer to arrive to help.
“Pull into that space,” Raven directed when the GPS announced our arrival. He pointed to an opening along the street between two police cruisers.
“You want me to parallel park this tank in that tiny spot? We won’t fit.”
“They’re both well between their lines. We’ll fit. Now, park.”
“Next time we bring Avery’s little sportscar,” I grumbled, turning the wheel to pull into the small space. Back and forth we went over and over until I’d successfully parked the beast between the cruisers. Frustration ate at me. It hadn’t been my worst parking job, but certainly everyone else in the SUV could have parked faster than that. No one had said a word as I’d positioned the car, but Jackson chuffed when Shannon opened the door to let him out.
“Yup, she did good,” the witch chuckled. “I would’ve told Raven to shut his mouth and drove around to find a space I could pull into.”
If Raven hadn’t chosen this particular spot, and if I hadn’t already been on his hit list, I would’ve done the same thing.
