Shift

by Rachel Vincent

  “Are you sure you won’t come?” I whispered as I clung to her. “You know how impulsive and bullheaded I am. I could use someone to keep me in line.”

  My mother laughed and pulled back so she could see my face. “You’ll grow out of the impulsiveness, and you get the bullheadedness from me. No matter what your father says.” She shot an affectionate glance at him over my shoulder. “But I need to stay here.”

  The way she eyed me intently, meaningfully—and the way she spoke her next sentence—sent a violent assault of chills up my spine. “Now, go say goodbye to your father.”

  I nodded, still staring into her eyes. Trying not to understand the message she was sending. But it was all too clear.

  The man with the gun would be the first and most obvious target. My mother was staying because there was a good chance that this might be my father’s last fight.

  I blinked back tears, then turned to hug my father, acutely aware that this was unlike any other preassignment goodbye we’d ever shared. “Be careful,” I whispered, breathing in his scent—the leather, coffee, and aftershave I’d always associated with absolute safety and authority, even if I sometimes chafed under the yoke of them both.

  “I was going to say the same thing to you.”

  “If you guys make enough noise, we’ll be fine.” I sounded confident, though I was far from sure.

  “Oh, we’ll make noise,” Jace promised, and I turned to hug him, too, holding him just a second longer than I should have. Then I went on to hug Michael, Vic, Parker, and Brian. I’d already said goodbye to Owen in his room, where frustration had gleamed like tears in his eyes. He hated missing the fight almost as much as I did. But he’d already struck his blow and given us our prisoner. And without Kai, we wouldn’t know enough to even think about fighting his Flight members.

  So I’d kissed the cowboy goodbye and called him my hero. Then ordered him to stay in bed and recuperate.

  “Faythe…” Marc began when I faced him, the last of my farewells. But he didn’t have to say any more. We’d said goodbye entirely too often in the past few months, and leaving him again was the last thing I wanted to do.

  “Watch yourself.” I went up on my toes to kiss him and let the contact linger a bit longer than I normally would have in front of an audience. “And watch my dad.”

  “You know I will.”

  And I did know. Marc’s role in the upcoming melee was to protect his Alpha: the man with the gun. And in truth, that would probably be easier without me there for them both to worry about. No matter how far I progressed in my training, no matter how well I fought in either form, there was always someone trying to defend me. Thus putting himself and others in unnecessary danger.

  “I’ll see you soon.” I squeezed him harder.

  He smiled. “I’d bet my life on it.”

  My father cleared his throat. “Everybody ready?”

  “Where’s Manx?” I scanned the small crowd and saw her stepping out of Owen’s room. She flushed when she saw us watching, then her stride quickened and grew more confident.

  “We are ready?” She took Des when Kaci held him out to her, obviously aware of all the eyes focused on her. Including Mateo’s.

  “We are.” As ready as we were going to get, anyway.

  My father stepped forward, holding the pistol, and gestured toward his left. The guys—all except Mateo—headed for the front door. My dad turned to me one last time. “Carey Dodd’s already in place waiting for you. You have his number, right?”

  “Yeah.” I’d programmed it into my phone, just in case.

  “Good. Even if they catch on, I don’t think the birds will follow you into the woods, but keep your ears open, just in case.”

  “We will,” Kaci said, clutching her small flashlight, and my dad spared a moment to smile at her.

  “Call me as soon as you make it to the car,” he said, and I nodded, one hand on the back doorknob. “Wait for your mother’s signal,” he warned, then jogged down the dark hall to join the rest of the men.

  “Okay, let’s go.” My dad opened the front door.

  My pulse raced, and I wondered if birds could hear well enough to know that.

  My Alpha stepped onto the porch, the gun held ready. Marc and Vic fanned out to either side of him, Jace and Parker beyond them. Each enforcer carried a rudimentary weapon, and because we were all enamored of Lucas’s impale-them-in-midflight approach, all the weapons had at least one sharp end.

  The plan was simple: the guys would make a bit of a fuss, demanding the birds restore our power. There wasn’t a chance in hell that would happen, but hopefully they’d cause enough of a distraction to let us slip out the back door and into the woods without the birds noticing.

  It was a hell of a risk—but we were out of options.

  “Beck!” my father shouted from the front porch, and through the windows, I caught the glare of someone’s flashlight beam, streaking toward the sky like a spotlight. “We need to talk!”

  For a moment, there was only silence, but for the racing pulses of those of us waiting, and I was sure our little ruse would fail. Manx, Des, and Kaci would be stuck here with the rest of us, in danger once the real fighting began.

  But then that too-familiar thunder of wings roared from the front of the property, and I exhaled softly in relief. They were coming.

  The noise of their approach would cover the sounds of us leaving, but we couldn’t afford to break for the woods until they’d all landed, because their eyesight—while not as good in the dark as ours—was much better than their hearing, and they might easily catch a glimpse of movement in the backyard from the air.

  So we waited, and I watched in the dark with my cat eyes as my mother peered anxiously through the front window. When the wind-beating racket finally faded and the last of the bird-bodies thumped to the ground, my father began his spiel. And my mother waved frantically behind her back with one hand.

  That was our signal.

  Kaci’s pulse spiked. I put a supportive hand on her shoulder and gestured for her to kill her light. She turned off the flashlight, then shoved it into the water-bottle pouch on one side of her backpack as I slowly, carefully pulled open the back door.

  No creaks; so far, so good.

  The screen door was next, and I froze when it squealed, only halfway open. My mom went stiff, then bent to stare out the window again, to see if anyone had noticed. I’m sure the cats all heard, but if the birds had, she saw no sign. She waved us out again, and I opened the door the rest of the way, relieved when it stayed silent.

  Mateo went first, with Manx and the baby on his heels. They snuck down the concrete steps on their toes, then took off across the dead grass toward the woods. Kaci was only a second behind Manx, and I went right behind her after handing the open screen door over to my mother to close after we’d made it to the trees, so that the closing squeal wouldn’t give us away before we reached relative safety.

  My pulse roared in my ears as I ran, careful to stay just steps behind Kaci.

  Teo hit the tree line first, then stopped to wave Manx ahead of him. Des was fussing by then, but was too surprised by the bumpy ride to wail in earnest, thank goodness. And the moment she stepped into the woods, Manx was ready with his pacifier, to keep him quiet.

  When Kaci made it to the trees, I stopped and turned to make sure no one had spotted us. I could still hear my father yelling, and caught the occasional screech of a bird’s response, but there was no one in sight. We’d made it, at least this far.

  I waved to my mother, and she nodded, then closed the screen door. I stepped into the woods as it squealed shut, and allowed myself one quick sigh of relief. Then I turned and jogged to catch up with the others.

  “Who’s Carey Dodd?” Kaci whispered as I fell into step beside her. Des sucked peacefully in front of us, where Manx and Teo hiked side by side.

  “One of the Pride members,” I answered, careful to keep my voice soft. We weren’t out of the woods yet. Literally.
“He’s the closest nonenforcer tom we have.” My dad had arranged for him to pick us up two miles from the ranch, on a road that cut through the woods behind our property, hopefully far enough away that the birds wouldn’t see the car or hear the engine. Dodd would take us to Henderson and stay as added protection for Manx and Kaci. We weren’t taking any chances.

  Because we were in human form—and only I could Shift my eyes—our hike took nearly an hour, and the first half was the roughest by far. Kaci and Manx tripped often, and Teo and I scrambled to catch them until finally Manx handed off the sleeping baby to the tom, who was much more used to tramping through the woods in the dark.

  When we were far enough from the house, I decided it was safe enough to risk a little light, and the walk was a bit easier with two flashlight beams lighting the way.

  When the trees began to thin, I called Dodd’s cell phone and had him start his engine. We used the rumble to guide us the last eighth of a mile or so, and were relieved to step out of the forest less than twenty feet from the waiting vehicle.

  Dodd jumped from the driver’s seat of his SUV and rushed to open the back door for Manx and Kaci. Kaci crawled in first, then took the baby while Manx got settled in the middle of the bench seat. Until we could stop for a car seat, she’d have to hold the baby on her lap.

  Teo scooted in next to Manx and pulled the door shut, and I sat up front with Dodd. “Thanks for the ride,” I said, pulling the seat belt tight across my lap.

  “No problem.” He shifted into gear, then pulled the car smoothly onto the road. “We’re just lucky I’m not out patrolling tonight.”

  That we were. Otherwise, our walk would have been much, much longer.

  Half a mile later, I Shifted my eyes back, then autodialed my father. “Hey,” I said when he answered. “We’re free and clear.”

  “Good. Call when you get to Henderson. We’re scrounging up weapons, and plan to make the first offensive in about an hour.”

  For once, I had no idea what to say. Everything I could think of—be careful, watch out for Mom—seemed a bit obvious. Nothing an Alpha would need to hear. So I swallowed the grapefruit-size lump in my throat and told him the truth. “I love you, Daddy.”

  “I love you, too, Kitten. Watch out for them.”

  “I will. Will you tell Marc I love him?”

  He laughed, a sound of genuine amusement, when I really needed to hear exactly that. “He already knows.”

  We said goodbye again, and I slid my phone into my pocket, then twisted to accept the tire iron Manx handed me. Kaci sat in the middle row, holding a hammer. “Hey, be careful.…”

  “Oh, shit!” Dodd stomped on the brakes. The van started to skid. Teo threw out one hand to protect Manx and Des. Kaci slammed into the back of the driver’s seat. I flew forward, then my seat belt snapped tight against my hip.

  Stunned, I dropped into my seat—and screamed. Fifty feet ahead, and closing with every second, the largest thunderbird I’d ever seen soared right for us, lit from beneath by our headlights. His talons clutched something big, and dark, and obviously heavy.

  Before Dodd could safely change course, the bird opened his talons, directly over us. Whatever he was carrying slammed into the hood of the van.

  We all screamed. The van swerved. I rocked violently from side to side as Dodd tried to control the vehicle. And I could only stare at the huge boulder deeply embedded in the hood, pinning the thick canvas it had been carried in.

  The van swerved left. Dodd overcompensated. We swerved right, and I braced my good arm against the dashboard. Dodd swerved again. The van careened off the road and smashed head-on into a trunk at the edge of the tree line.

  For a moment, there was an eerie, shocked silence. Then Des started screaming.

  I took a second to assess my injuries—a single, rapidly forming lump on the side of my head—then twisted to check on everyone else. “Are you guys okay?”

  Manx nodded, dazed, one hand patting the screaming infant. Kaci peeked up from behind the backpack in her lap, and after a moment of consideration, she nodded, too. “I think so—”

  That’s when Teo’s door was ripped completely off the car.

  Fourteen

  Kaci shrieked as a vicious half-bird head appeared where the door had been an instant earlier. Human hands attached to long, muscle-bound arms hauled Teo out of the car and tossed him to the ground. Manx screamed and beat the bird with her right fist, while her left clutched the screaming baby.

  The thunderbird made strange, aggressive screeching sounds deep in his human-looking throat, pulling on Manx’s arm. But she was still buckled, and he couldn’t reach the latch.

  I jabbed the button on my own seat belt, then leaned over my seat to punch the intruder with my good hand. Dodd reached for Manx but was too far away in the driver’s seat. I only realized he’d gotten out of the car when his door slammed shut.

  A second later, Teo roared, and the thunderbird was hauled backward, out of my reach. Dodd wielded a crowbar and bared human teeth at the bird, who half Shifted rapidly in Teo’s grip. All three fell to the cold grass in a violent, snarling, snapping tangle.

  I groped for my door handle with my bruised left hand, staring over the back of my seat at Manx. “Are you okay?”

  Manx didn’t answer. She was hunched over the baby, protecting her infant with her own life. Her back heaved. I heard sobs and saw tears, but I smelled no blood—none of Manx’s, anyway. So I looked past her to Kaci—just in time to see the young tabby throw open her car door. I could practically smell her panic.

  “Kaci, no!” I shoved my own door open, but she didn’t listen. I wasn’t even sure she could hear me over Manx’s crying, Des’s screaming, and the odd snarls and screeches coming from Teo and the bird-man. But it probably wouldn’t have mattered even if she had heard me. Kaci was terrified of being snatched again, and she was not strong enough to defend herself.

  That was my job.

  “Stay here and stay buckled,” I shouted to Manx, then I dodged the full-out brawl at my feet and took off after Kaci, putting everything I had into my sprint.

  Unfortunately, I couldn’t concentrate well enough to Shift my eyes while I was running, so once we’d gone beyond the dim red glow of the van’s taillights, the young tabby’s dark hair and jeans faded into the night. If not for her bright white ski jacket, the slap of her shoes on concrete, and the terrified sobs floating back to me in the wind, I would have thought I’d lost her completely.

  Go into the woods! I thought desperately as Kaci frantically threw one foot in front of the other. Thunderbirds couldn’t follow us there. At least, not in full bird form. But I couldn’t afford to waste my energy shouting something that might not sink in, anyway. If she’d been thinking clearly, she would have headed for the trees in the first place, rather than racing along the shoulder of the road, fair game to anything that swooped out of the sky.

  Then, as if my own thought had called it into being, a powerful thwup, thwup echoed at my back.

  Oh, shit. Either Mateo and Dodd had lost their fight, or more than one bird had come after us. Probably both.

  I dug deep and threw every spark of energy I had left into my sprint. My focus stayed glued to Kaci’s back, an inverse shadow in the nightscape. I surged ahead, and she was only twenty feet ahead now.

  The wind-beating sound grew steadily closer. The accompanying rush of air blew my hair out in front of me. Ahead, Kaci tripped and screamed. She went down only yards from the tree line.

  She stood unsteadily, but I was closing on her. Eighteen feet. My lungs burned. She started running again, but more slowly, and with a limp.

  Fifteen feet. My side cramped, but any minute, I’d have her.

  Twelve feet. I was already reaching out, moments away.

  Then the whoosh that had been a warning was suddenly a horrifying roar. I couldn’t hear myself breathe; I heard only menacing wind. I couldn’t feel my pounding heart or rushing pulse; I felt only the surge of air now push
ing me backward, away from Kaci.

  I squinted against the dust that terrible wind blew at me. A huge, dark shadow swooped low, only feet in front of me. Kaci screamed. Her white jacket shot off the ground and into the air, bobbing higher with each powerful flap of wings. She kicked, the stripes on her shoes reflecting the little available moonlight.

  “Hold still!” I shouted, stumbling to a stop beneath her, terrified that her tossing and turning would make the bird drop her. But she couldn’t hear me. I stared up at Kaci in horror, and the fresh ache in my chest threatened to swallow me whole. I’d lost her.

  I was supposed to protect Kaci, and I’d lost her. I’d failed, and now she would pay the price.

  What little I could see of the night blurred with the moisture standing in my eyes as I forced my legs into motion again. I couldn’t catch her without wings of my own; I knew that. But I had to try.

  I stumbled along, wiping tears on the sleeve of my jacket, hoping I wouldn’t trip and further injure my arm. And that Teo and Dodd had won their fight. And that they could get Manx and the baby to safety. I couldn’t see if any of that had happened without losing sight of Kaci. And I couldn’t hear anything—not even Des screaming—over the roar of wings beating overhead and behind me.

  Wait, beating behind me?

  I spun, my heart trying to claw its way out of my throat. He dove the instant I saw him, a great hulking shadow blocking out the silver crescent moon. In that moment, the bird was everywhere. He was all I could see, and everything I feared. Talons. Hooked beak. And a possible forty-foot fall.

  I couldn’t outrun him, so I dropped to my knees, then onto my good elbow, half-convinced he would land on me and crush me. Or drop another big rock on me. But his huge, curved talons were empty.

  I tucked my head between my knees and screamed, but could barely hear my own voice. An instant later something gripped my upper arms, then jerked viciously. My shoulders screamed in pain. The world tilted wildly around me. And suddenly the ground was gone.