Suave as Shift

by Keira Blackwood

“I want to travel,” I said. “I need to. Before all of this, I was well on track to save enough to see the world. Who knows how long it will take now.”

  “Because of your sister,” he said.

  “Yeah. And because I acted like an idiot and lost my job.”

  “I’ll tell you what,” Lincoln said. “When your sister wakes up, I’ll take you with me.”

  “With you...with you where?”

  “Everywhere.”

  “I couldn’t do that,” I said.

  “Why not?”

  “I have to earn it. I’m not looking for a prince to rescue me,” I said. “I’m going to earn my way, and free myself.”

  “I wouldn’t dare assume you needed anything from me,” he said, a small smile playing on his lips.

  “Good.”

  “But a partner, who earned her own pay…”

  “You mean whatever weird thing you’re doing for your dad?” I asked.

  “It’s bigger than that,” he said and turned to look out the window.

  I wondered what he was thinking. It seemed like he wanted to tell me, but he was torn.

  “What do you say?” he asked. “We do make great partners.”

  “We do.”

  “So do you want to come with me? It’d be like this every day, just the two of us, traveling the world and solving mysteries.”

  “A Scooby duo,” I said.

  Lincoln turned to me, his face hidden behind his sunglasses. He was waiting for my answer. He was serious.

  “You’ll have to share your secrets and tell me what I’m agreeing to first.”

  “Fair enough.”

  I waited for him to tell me, but instead he just turned forward and watched the road with a small smile of satisfaction on his lips.

  Why he looked like he’d gotten what he wanted, I had no idea. To me it seemed like we’d just talked ourselves in circles.

  It wasn’t much farther before we reached the little trailer in the middle of nowhere. One car was parked out front, doors open, lights flashing—the sheriff was here.

  I’d known he’d make it here first, but I’d hoped I’d been wrong, and that he was off eating lunch somewhere and cooling off. But he wasn’t.

  I parked a few feet away and climbed out of the car. The thud of a shutting car door told me Lincoln was out, too.

  The entry to the trailer hung open, and suddenly the world felt just a little too quiet.

  “Stay behind me,” Lincoln said.

  I stared him down. He was completely serious.

  “I’m perfectly capable, partner.” I’d thought we’d just established this.

  “Something’s wrong here,” Lincoln said.

  He took careful steps up to the door. I kept pace.

  Lincoln stopped by the door, but didn’t enter.

  “Sheriff?” I called. “Madam Melphini?”

  No one answered.

  Lincoln tilted his head up like he heard something when all there was to be heard was wind in the trees.

  I stepped past Lincoln, into the dark trailer.

  “Madam Melphini?”

  Again, nothing.

  “Do you think—” I turned to Lincoln, but he wasn’t there.

  “Lincoln?”

  He wasn’t on the porch. He wasn’t by the car.

  “Lincoln?” I circled the trailer, and found a pair of sunglasses and a discarded suit.

  Panic swelled in my chest.

  “Lincoln!”

  Whatever it was that was making people lose it, it had gotten him. I had to find him before he fell asleep. I had to stop it from taking him from me.

  Not again.

  I spun in place, searching the tall grass for any movement or sign.

  There, between the trees, was something, someone.

  “Lincoln, come back!” I ran as fast as my legs would carry me.

  What could I do to stop it? How could I save him?

  I had to try.

  The forest was dark, even at midday. Dense foliage slowed my pace, saplings and vines making it hard to press forward. I looked around, but didn’t see him.

  A little further.

  Standing there, with his gun trained in front of him, was the sheriff. Sweat beaded on his brow, and he was trembling.

  “Sheriff Nielson,” I said. “Put the—”

  The words slipped away when I saw it.

  Orange and black stripes, whiskers, fangs, tail, big as hell.

  A tiger—a real-life fucking tiger.

  I stared in awe. My brain screamed, Run, dumbass! But I didn’t. Somehow, for some crazy reason, I wasn’t afraid.

  A mass of purple and red silk caught my eye. Madam Melphini lay unmoving behind the cat.

  Who had hurt her? The sheriff or the tiger?

  “She did it,” the sheriff said. “She poisoned them. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but you of all people know what I’m talking about, Hammond. This witch poisoned my boy.”

  “Did she say that?” I asked.

  “She didn’t have to. It was her.” He hazarded a glance in my direction, foolish with the look the tiger was giving him. Teeth bared, sharp eyes of a predator about to strike.

  The sheriff should have been scared shitless. We both should have been.

  Sirens echoed in the distance. The deputy was coming. Good.

  “She summoned a goddamn hell beast. She’s evil.” The sheriff’s arms wavered. He was terrified, but he wasn’t moving. He really thought this was the way to help his son, or maybe just a path to revenge.

  Madam Melphini’s hand moved.

  “She needs help.” I took a slow step closer to the sheriff. “We need to get her an ambulance.”

  “No,” he said. “We need to end this.”

  He lifted the gun at the tiger’s head.

  The tiger roared, a warning. My chest shook, and my heart raced. This was the part where smart people ran. I knew that. I knew I was supposed to be terrified, but I wasn’t. Somehow I knew the tiger wasn’t going to hurt me. Somehow I knew he was here to help.

  I looked at his dark eyes. They were fucking tiger eyes, yet somehow familiar.

  Lincoln.

  “Sheriff, put the gun down.” The voice surprised me. I turned and saw the deputy approaching his boss.

  His brow was wrinkled with concern. “Good golly, man, we need to get her some help.”

  I turned back, wondering why he hadn’t commented on the tiger, but the tiger was gone.

  Sheriff Nielson relinquished his weapon to his deputy and fell to his knees, crying.

  The two were talking, but I wasn’t listening. Instead, I looked through the forest for movement. The tiger was out there somewhere. He had to be.

  A flash of orange and black glided through the trees. I had to know the truth. This was it, somehow I knew this was it.

  Lincoln—was it him? I had to know.

  I ran farther into the forest, following the tiger, even though I knew it was crazy. That was my life the past two weeks—crazy—and I wasn’t going to stop now.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Lincoln

  Was it a mistake to shift? Maybe. But uncertainty and regret were best left to the boring, brooding types. What I had control over was the here and now, and now Juliana was on my tail.

  The subtle tones of her sweet grape and vanilla scent were more robust than I’d experienced in human form. She surrounded me, filled my lungs, overshadowing the rest of the world.

  I could have escaped, run fast enough and far enough that she would have never caught me, but I didn’t. Part of me wanted to be seen, wanted her to catch me.

  One paw in front of the other, I kept moving, unsure exactly what I would do next.

  The witch was safe, the sheriff subdued. I could return to the trailer to reclaim my clothes, shifting back to human form before Juliana found me. I could, but I didn’t.

  Soft soil gave beneath my paws as I wove between thorn bushes and over thick roots.

  A small cle
aring broke along the path. This was it, time to make a choice.

  It was easy. It was time.

  I stopped and waited for Juliana.

  Branches swayed from her path and sticks crunched beneath her feet. She was coming.

  From between the trees, Juliana emerged.

  With the clarity of ultra-sharp tiger eyes, it was as if I was seeing her for the first time, as if every glimpse I’d caught had been blurred through foggy glass.

  She wore black shorts and a white t-shirt that perfectly showcased her show-stopping assets. Dark shiny hair fell over her shoulders in loose waves. Her full lips were made for kissing. Her bright blue eyes were like the Bermuda Triangle, and I’d gladly get lost in there for fucking ever.

  When she spotted me, she froze and stared.

  She should have been frightened, but she didn’t carry the scent of fear. She should have run the other way, but she’d followed me.

  Maybe she could accept me for everything that I was. Maybe I was crazy for thinking it was possible.

  “Lincoln?” Her voice was soft, hesitant as she took a step forward.

  She was fiercely beautiful, extraordinarily brave.

  Hesitation was a force of bile in my gut. I wasn’t used to it—nervousness. I knew I shouldn’t show a human my shift, I shouldn’t show her my world. It was against all the rules, yet here I was tempted to break them all, tempted to let her in. She could take it. She was the one.

  A single tear rolled down her cheek, and it broke my fucking heart.

  “Am I crazy?” she asked. She let herself be vulnerable with me, she opened up and trusted me. “Prove to me that I’m not what they say. Show me that you’re not just some weirdly random tiger in the middle of fucking nowhere. Show me it’s you.”

  Fuck the consequences. She was worth the risk. She was worth everything.

  I closed my eyes and focused on having hands that could hold her, on having lips that could kiss. My bones cracked and reshaped, and my fur receded.

  Juliana took a step back, raised her hands to her mouth to cover the gasp that she exhaled. Her eyes went wide and glossy as she watched the transformation.

  My paws morphed to hands and feet, my hair into the perfect pompadour. I was all man, all naked, and standing bare before her.

  “Shit.” The word slipped out between her fingers.

  The scent of fear that I hadn’t sensed before—it was there now. She was afraid. Of me.

  Juliana turned away from my chiseled male perfection, and she ran.

  She ran away.

  She broke my fucking heart as she ran like hell.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Juliana

  Shit. Shit. Shit shit shit.

  The car was in drive, the pedal to the floor, before my brain registered anything but that one word over and over again. Shit.

  My body was set to autopilot, as I retreated—drove the hell away as fast as fucking possible.

  I shouldn’t have done that. I shouldn’t have left without Lincoln.

  Before I knew it, I was in the basement, in my father’s library, searching desperately for answers.

  Was it all a hallucination? Some crazy dream? Did the sheriff knock me out and I was unconscious right beside my sister in the hospital?

  That was stupid.

  I was getting good at stupid.

  Skimming across spines, I searched through book after book for illustrations or mentions of tigers. While I looked, images of the huge, graceful cat, of the holy fuckballs sexy man, and of the mind-blowing transformation flooded my brain. I kept seeing all of it, over and over. The books weren’t helping. Nothing could help me.

  I curled up into a ball in my father’s chair like a small child escaping reality in the comfort of home. But it was just me here, alone. As the tears streamed down my cheeks, I regretted every fucking thing.

  Drilling pain right between the eyes woke me. I hadn’t realized I’d fallen asleep. Drool pasted a sheet of loose leaf paper to my cheek. But that wasn’t what made me feel like a fool.

  I’d left Lincoln in the woods. My whole life I’d wanted to believe my father, believe in the supernatural. As soon as I was shown real proof of what I’d searched for, I ran away scared.

  Worse, I’d left Lincoln in the woods.

  I didn’t know what had happened, but I didn’t even give him a chance to explain. I should have. Maybe the sheriff was right, and Madam Melphini had cast a spell on him. But that explanation didn’t feel right. It felt like the tiger was a part of who he was.

  Those eyes.

  Lincoln was the tiger, without any tricks. I just knew it.

  I threw on some clean clothes and packed two peanut butter sandwiches in a paper bag. It wasn’t a fancy breakfast, but it was all I had to offer as a peace offering for the epic apology I owed him.

  The drive to the motel felt exceptionally long. The walk up the stairs, even more treacherous. What would I do if he didn’t accept? What if I’d fucked up the only good thing I had going in my life?

  That couldn’t happen. I’d apologize as many times as it took. I needed us to be okay.

  I remembered the feel of his lips on mine, pictured the playful smile that he so often wore. Just thinking of him gave me the warm fuzzies.

  We’d be okay. I could fix this.

  I had to.

  I took the outdoor steps, as always, avoiding the lobby and my dickbag former boss.

  The red door didn’t open when I stopped in front of it. It didn’t open when I knocked.

  The pink van was in the lot. He hadn’t left for the morning.

  He’d have gotten a ride back with the sheriff or deputy last night. He was here, and he just wasn’t ready to see me.

  I pulled a pen from my pocket and left a note on the bag, then set it in front of his door.

  I’m sorry.

  There should have been better words, more words. It wasn’t enough, but it was all I could come up with on a paper bag.

  I waited a little longer before leaving, then headed to the hospital to confide in the only person I could talk to—Emily.

  For the first time in a while, the elevator was available without a wait.

  Lucky me.

  When the elevator doors opened to the second floor, I stepped out into a shitstorm.

  Nurses raced down the hall, pushing their way past me. Beeping machines sounded from the rooms, and I walked in a haze, stunned by the scene.

  “Why don’t you take a seat, hon.”

  A small hand clamped around my upper arm. Only then did I realize someone was speaking to me.

  Shelby, Em’s nurse. Her face was lined with concern. She let me go.

  “Come on,” she said, leading me away. “I’ll take you.”

  A doctor went through the door marked two zero five, Em’s room. I turned to follow.

  Shelby shook her head from side to side.

  “There’s nothing you can do in there,” she said. “They’re going to do everything they can, and the best thing for you to do is to let them.”

  “Do what?” My heart raced, as my mouth filled with bitter acid. “What’s going on?”

  “The coma patients,” she said. “Their vital signs all dropped at once.”

  Emily. She couldn’t die.

  “Your sister will be okay,” she said. “She’s in good hands.”

  The doctors would do all they could, but what if that wasn’t enough? They didn’t even know what was wrong with Em and the others.

  My stomach was lead, twisted and heavy as hell.

  I stared at the open doorway to my sister’s room, to the feet that scrambled below the closed curtain.

  And I was left completely helpless, but not without hope.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Lincoln

  “I know you’re awake.”

  The boney finger stabbing my ribs was as unexpected as the harsh voice.

  I peeked through one eye at the supposedly blind woman towering over me. She scowl
ed, those white eyes peering down at me like they could see way more than they should.

  “No use playing games, boy.” Madam Melphini stood straight up and walked across the floor, returning to her bed.

  “No games, promise.” I sat up and slid my shoes on. “I’ll just get out of your hair.”

  “Sheriff isn’t going to return,” she said, as if I needed convincing. We’d both seen the way he left. Defeated.

  “I know,” I said. “That’s why I’m leaving.”

  I’d spent the night on the witch’s couch. Even if the sheriff wasn’t coming back, someone had to watch over. At least for the night. I couldn’t just leave her alone out here. Not after what the sheriff had done to her.

  Her pale skin was covered in bruises, her right eye half-swollen shut. She should have gone to a hospital, but she’d insisted on staying in her own bed.

  I could sense her power returning, like the start of a fire. No shifter with any sense would stick around once that pyre grew to full-strength.

  “And what, you’re going to walk back to Barbetta?”

  I shrugged.

  “Let me call you a taxi,” she said.

  “Fine.”

  “Not going to say thank you? Your mother should have taught you better manners,” she said.

  “If I ever meet her, I’ll be sure to tell her you said so.”

  This place had me out of sorts, or maybe it was just what had happened with Juliana. Usually I’d flash a smile and charm my way out of suspicion. But I didn’t care what Madam Melphini thought of me, and I was in no mood for pleasantries.

  She placed the call, and I waited.

  The front of the trailer, with its glass shelves and crystal balls, was visible from the back room where I paced. There was only a bead curtain separating the private living quarters from the palm reading business. And those paintings still gave me the heebie jeebies.

  There were no visible sigils by the door, and I’d been able to walk right in when I’d carried the injured woman from the woods the night before.

  “How is it that you kept me out before?” I asked.

  Her eyes were shut like she was asleep, but a wicked grin crossed her face betraying the outward calm. A shiver crept up my spine.