Endangered

by Michelle Larkin

  Oscar stepped forward. “Enough gawking, everyone. You’re making her nervous. Get your furry butts over here and say hello.”

  She watched as each of them emerged from the shadows and effortlessly shifted into human form. Seeing someone shapeshift was truly magical. It never got old for her.

  “You know Hank,” Oscar said, gesturing to his longtime friend, the fire chief, who never missed their Friday night poker games.

  “Good to see you again, Aspen,” he said, shaking her hand to reveal himself as a towering, ferocious-looking grizzly. “Welcome to the club,” he said, stepping aside with a wink and a tip of his ball cap.

  One by one, everyone approached and shook her hand, obviously wanting to see for themselves that there was a Myriad in their midst. As each made physical contact, they studied the panther inside her that even she wasn’t yet acquainted with. They paid particular attention to her eyes, of course, uttering various animal sounds of surprise upon seeing them.

  It had been awhile since she’d seen Tony—one of her favorite instructors at the police academy. An avid long-distance runner and cyclist, he was in his fifties and still looked fit enough to compete in an Ironman. A sight to behold, his shiny orange-and-black-striped coat rippled in the moonlight. The irony of his name didn’t escape her. Frosted Flakes was her favorite cereal as a kid. “Always knew you’d make a name for yourself,” he whispered with a sincere smile.

  Pierre was a French pastry chef who owned the bakery she and Oscar had been frequenting for years. She was surprised to discover he was also a well-muscled silverback gorilla. “Bonjour, my friend,” he said with a quick kiss on both cheeks. His handlebar moustache tickled her face.

  Next in line was Detective Beckett’s teenage son—she’d babysat Liam for years when she was a teenager. He was just ten the last time she saw him. He came up to her with a skateboard under his arm, blue hair in his eyes, and a pierced lower lip. As a cheetah, his long, lanky body was built for speed. “Cool,” was all he said upon releasing her hand.

  Caught off guard, Aspen reached out to return the hug from her high school chemistry teacher. “Mrs. Belarino?”

  “Guilty as charged.” Mrs. B adjusted the large black-rimmed glasses that dwarfed her face. “Please, call me Gladys.”

  Who knew this short round unassuming teacher was a hulking rhinoceros? She was the sole reason Aspen had made it through high school science and math. This gifted teacher not only tutored her when she was struggling to keep up her grades, but she was also an endless source of inspiration, encouragement, and hugs.

  Helga was the last to step forward, looking just the same as Aspen remembered her—tall, voluptuous, and conservatively stunning with kind blue eyes and honey-colored hair that was just beginning to gray around the edges. Her thick German accent brought Aspen back to the year of therapy she underwent, at Oscar’s request, to deal with the loss of her parents and her suicide attempt. “How wonderful it is to see you”—she reached up to cup Aspen’s cheek—“so beautiful and strong.”

  Aspen hugged her. She would always have a special place in her heart for this woman. When their hands touched, Helga revealed herself as a snow leopard with a luxuriously thick and spotted coat. But Helga didn’t study her yellow eyes like the others had. Instead, she simply sat and bowed her head to Aspen in an elegant and humbling display of acceptance.

  “What are all of you doing here?” Aspen asked, stepping back. Even though she’d known these Shrouds for years, she had never before seen the animals beneath their human forms.

  “What does it look like?” Mrs. B pushed her glasses up with one finger. “We’ve come to kick some ass.”

  Aspen smiled. “It means a lot that all of you came here tonight. But the fight’s over.” She slid her hands inside her pockets. “We’re leaving. It’s not safe here anymore.”

  “That was just the beginning,” Pierre countered. “There are many more soldiers who will come for you.”

  “You’re probably not familiar with our laws yet,” Tony explained, “but we’re sworn to protect you.”

  “And we’re done hiding.” Liam set his skateboard on the ground. “We’re ready to fight.”

  Hank nodded, removing his ball cap. “There were always lots of reasons to fight, but we never dreamed in a million years that we’d actually have a chance of winning this war against humans.”

  “Until now,” Helga added. “You have given us hope, Aspen. Historically, Myriads are very powerful creatures. You haven’t yet realized the full extent of your gifts. We want to keep you safe so you have the chance to discover those gifts over time, at your own pace.”

  “So we’re coming with you, whether you like it or not.” Mrs. B crossed her arms. “And we won’t take no for an answer.”

  Aspen studied this unlikely group and felt a sudden responsibility so profound it gave her butterflies. She looked up at the tree branch behind them and nodded at Skye. The girl had been perched and listening for the last few minutes. Skye flew over and landed beside her, her red high-top sneakers touching the ground as she shifted.

  “I’ll accept your terms on one condition,” Aspen said, reaching an arm around the girl’s shoulders. “Each of you must protect Skye at all costs. If it comes to choosing between me and her, choose her.”

  Their heads turned in unison to look questioningly at Oscar. He nodded. “Do what she says. Skye is important.”

  Skye turned to Oscar. “There are eight black Suburbans about ten miles out. I tracked them for a few miles. Looks like they’re heading this way.”

  “Nice work,” he said proudly. He turned to the group, counting aloud. “My pack and I make nine, plus Skye, Aspen, Tora, and the six of you—”

  “Eighteen,” Hank finished for him, grinning. “Good thing we splurged and got three.”

  “Three what?” Aspen asked.

  “Beckett, Miller, and Johnston are getting them now,” Oscar told Hank. “Should be back any minute.”

  Aspen watched them, confused. “Getting what?” she asked again.

  Tora appeared in the backyard. “Transportation’s here,” she called out, returning to the front of the house.

  The merry band of six ducked behind the tree line. One by one, they returned with military-issue duffel bags and hurried toward the front of the house.

  There was a sudden and distinct change in the air—like ants from the same colony had just met in secret, and now everyone knew what they were supposed to do.

  Intrigued, Aspen studied the efficiency with which everyone seemed to be working. “Why do I get the feeling everybody here has done this before?” she asked aloud, to no one in particular.

  Still standing beside her, Skye set a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “We start training for this as soon as we’re able to walk. All Shrouds do.”

  “Training for what?”

  “We’re taught humans could show up at any time of the day or night to kill us. We have to be ready to run on a moment’s notice.”

  Aspen shook her head, grateful she hadn’t grown up like that. The injustice of being hunted down and murdered by SEA soldiers at the direction of the president was beyond her comprehension. How could obliterating an entire species be allowed in this day and age in America—the land of the free and the home of the brave? A fundamental change had to happen. Something that would allow humans to see the error of their ways and realize Shrouds were people, too, who were just as deserving of equal rights.

  With Skye beside her, Aspen followed the bustle of activity to the front of the house. Three brand-new black Hummer H1s were parked on the street. Beckett, Miller, and Johnston hopped out and began loading the vehicles with the equipment Oscar had already carried to the sidewalk. Five other pack members emerged from the shadows, shifted from wolf to human, and lent a helping hand. Skye joined in, too.

  “Nice wheels, Pop,” Aspen said as Oscar deposited another load on the sidewalk. She wondered how a cop and a fireman could afford this type of luxury.
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  “Poker night,” Oscar replied as if reading her mind. “The guys and I played every week, but that was just for fun. This is where all our money really went,” he said, nodding at the Hummers. “Poker was just a cover.”

  Ingenious. “What else have you been keeping from me?” she asked, incredulous.

  “Helga and I are dating,” he blurted.

  Okay. She liked Helga. “How long have the two of you been—”

  “Eleven years.”

  Apparently, Oscar had more secrets than he knew what to do with. This might take a little getting used to.

  “Glad that’s out of the way.” He let out a breath. “I’d like your blessing so I can finally ask her to marry me.”

  “Why do you need my blessing now? You’ve been together for eleven years.”

  He shrugged. “Just figured it was the right thing to do, seeing as she was your therapist and all.”

  “Would’ve been nice if you’d asked me that eleven years ago.” She sighed. “Can I have some time to think about it?”

  He looked at her like she’d completely lost her mind. “No.”

  “Well…don’t I get a moment to process the feelings I have about you dating my therapist?”

  “Ex-therapist,” he corrected her. “And that was, like, seventeen years ago.” He tapped his foot impatiently.

  “Then why’d you ask for my blessing?”

  “I was being polite.” Not wasting any time, he waved Helga over with boyish enthusiasm.

  Aspen watched as Helga nodded and unzipped her duffel bag. She withdrew a small white pastry box before handing the duffel bag to Beckett for loading.

  Helga strode over to them confidently. Without a word, she raised the box’s lid and held it out to Aspen like an offering. There was one slice of chocolate lava cake inside. Helga reached into her coat pocket, pulled out a white napkin that had already been folded in half, and opened it to reveal a clear plastic fork.

  Oscar and Helga had obviously conspired to manipulate her into accepting their relationship. They really should have given her more credit than this. Her approval could never be won with such a tiny offering. She reluctantly accepted the fork and reached in to sample the goods, taking a modest and noncommittal bite. Oh. My. God. There wasn’t even a word for how good this tasted. She took a second bite—much bigger this time—just to be sure. “Did you bake this?” she asked, trying not to sound as if she’d just won the lottery.

  Helga nodded. “Baking from scratch with chocolate as the primary ingredient is a passion of mine.” She closed the lid and held the pastry box aloft with a knowing smile.

  Unable to hold herself back any longer, Aspen accepted the box with a sigh. “Welcome to the family,” she conceded around a mouthful of cake.

  “Sorry to break up the reunion,” Hank said, slapping Oscar on the back. “Everything’s loaded and ready to go.”

  “Showtime, everyone!” Oscar bellowed. “Pick a vehicle and load up. We’ll be on the road for at least a few hours, so make yourselves comfortable.”

  Aspen watched as Shrouds scattered, chose a Hummer, and climbed inside in absolute silence. No bickering about who was riding with whom. The doors were shut and the sidewalk bare in seconds. Shrouds took efficiency to a whole new level.

  Oscar climbed behind the wheel of the first Hummer with Hank beside him in the passenger’s seat. Aspen, Skye, and Helga settled into the back seat. Tora was already waiting inside.

  Smiling politely as she took a seat beside Tora, Aspen couldn’t imagine a better companion for this road trip.

  Not.

  Why couldn’t the doctor have chosen a different Hummer? She could barely stand the thought of sitting next to Tora on the porch for a few minutes. How would they survive a few hours in this cramped space together? Thank God Skye and Helga were back here, too. She glanced down at the pastry box in her lap. The cake…thank God for the cake. She only wished she had more.

  Tora leaned forward. “I’ve already added the sanctuary’s address,” she told Oscar, indicating the Hummer’s GPS.

  “Landgrove, Vermont,” he said, glancing at the screen on the dash. “Never been.” He put the Hummer in gear and started driving.

  “It’s pretty remote. Landgrove has fifteen miles of unpaved roads and a population of one hundred and fourteen.”

  “How many Shrouds live at the sanctuary?” Hank asked.

  “Two hundred and thirty-six.”

  Hank turned in his seat. “And you’ve never been discovered?”

  Tora shook her head. “We keep to ourselves and stay out of trouble. Members go through a rigorous interview and screening process before they’re permitted entrance. I have pretty good radar for troublemakers.” Tora locked eyes with Aspen and narrowed hers in silent accusation.

  Aspen felt her grip tighten around the pastry box. Cake or no cake, this was going to be a long ride.

  Chapter Nine

  Finkleman rushed into the Oval Office and tripped on the edge of a round rug in the center of the room—an exquisitely designed blue-and-gold presidential seal. Tim Decker watched him make a perfect face-plant from the comfort of his leather chair behind the desk. The balding man’s glasses, tablet, and phone skidded across the polished wood floor.

  Why’d he pick such a louse as his secretary of defense? He shook his head, remembering he’d needed someone who would bend to his will. Someone who would allow him to initiate the population cleansing that this country—and the world—so desperately needed. Finkleman was irritating, yes, but Tim put up with him because he had just the right amount of spinelessness for the job.

  Finkleman stood and retrieved his belongings. “Sorry, Mr. President.”

  “Do you have an update for me?”

  “A rather disturbing one, I’m afraid.” Finkleman stepped over, set the tablet on the desk, and swiped the screen.

  A photo of a female police officer appeared. “What’s this?”

  “She’s a Shroud, sir.”

  “Cop or no cop, they all must go. No exceptions, Finkleman. I thought I made that clear.”

  “That’s not it, sir. She’s listed as human. But we just received word she’s a Myriad.”

  A Myriad? Damn. Those things were supposed to be extinct. Tim didn’t know much about them, only that they were powerful and very dangerous. “How’d she slip through the cracks?”

  “Her parents allegedly vaccinated her against shapeshifting and passed her off as human.”

  This was the first he’d heard of a vaccination to prevent a Shroud from shapeshifting. These things were getting smarter by the second. “Are there others?” he asked. “Others who were vaccinated and pretending to be human?” The possibility was more than a little disturbing.

  “We’re not sure about that yet, sir.”

  “Divert all available resources to finding the Myriad. She can’t be allowed to survive.”

  “Sir, just moments ago, she and several other Shrouds killed a group of our soldiers.”

  “So? Send more.”

  “Our men were surveilling the house and caught wind of something called the sanctuary. That’s where the other Shrouds are taking her right now.”

  Tim shook his head and sighed. His patience for this particular invertebrate was growing thin. “Intercept them. Take them out.” He pushed the tablet away. “Shit, how hard can that be?”

  “Another unit is en route to do that, sir.”

  “Good. Let me know when it’s done.”

  Finkleman picked up the tablet and hesitated. “Actually, sir, I was wondering if you wanted me to call them off—”

  “Now why the hell would I do that?” he shouted.

  Finkleman took a step back. “One of our men darted the leader of the sanctuary, so we can track her by transmitter. The Myriad is with her.”

  “And?” Tim felt his patience giving way to a headache.

  “I figured you might want to track them, wait until they reach their destination, and then take out the en
tire nest in one fell swoop.”

  Tim took a sip of bourbon from a crystal glass and ran his fingers over the presidential seal. Now that was a damn good idea. He finally stood, walked around his desk, and set a hand on the small man’s shoulder with a smile. Maybe Finkleman wasn’t such a nuisance after all.

  * * *

  Aspen stepped down from the Hummer and stretched as Oscar cut the engine and headlights. When Beckett and Miller followed suit behind them, the darkness swallowed everything. She couldn’t see her own breath in front of her face, but she was sure it hovered in the freezing air like barroom smoke. It was officially frigid in Landgrove, Vermont.

  Feeling a little melancholy, she caressed the edges of the empty pastry box in her hand. She’d donated the rest of her cake to Skye, who was famished after the long stakeout flight back at Oscar’s. Aspen was now just holding onto the box as a reminder of what heaven smelled like.

  She was glad to be out of Tora’s personal space. The doctor had been quiet for the duration of the trip but kept fidgeting uncomfortably on the seat beside her every time their legs or shoulders touched. The animosity radiating from her was palpable.

  Aspen pressed the glow button on her watch to check the time: 3:47 a.m. She was exhausted. Skye was still asleep in the car. Wherever the hell they were was definitely remote. She couldn’t remember the last time they’d passed a streetlamp, house, or any sign of civilization. She felt disoriented and a little angry that the SEA had ousted her from her home in Boston. What she wouldn’t give to curl up in her own bed right now.

  A porch light clicked on, illuminating a modest log cabin. The door to the cabin swung open as an old woman stepped outside. “All the rooms are ready, dear,” she said, shuffling over in a bright pink bathrobe and fuzzy slippers to give Tora a warm embrace.

  What was this? Aspen was intrigued. There was someone who willingly hugged the doctor and, judging from the genuine smile on her face, appeared to actually like her? Poor thing must be suffering from dementia.