As Jemin ran, he had an idea that his chosen path would take him north of the palace where, in this world, a metro station was droning beside a small stream. He leapt over the garden wall and crossed the frozen grounds, grateful that in this dimension, there was no one guarding the area during the night, and rushed out a gate near Neelis’ safe house. But his legs didn’t carry him there, to the museum that served as a protected area for the shifter pack—his pack, unreal as it may feel at the moment to think that he was part of it. His paws hammered into the cobblestones as he made a sharp right turn, taking him away from the safe house to, instead, cross the stream and gallop up the hill to the one place he could think of where he wanted to be.
An image of when he had found Maray’s apartment ripped apart by Yutu teeth and claws a while ago flashed through Jemin’s mind, and his feet carried him even faster. His body was getting used to being different. He was a machine, made to speed unseen and unnoticed, and there was a thrill about it that momentarily took over—until he stopped at the door to Maray’s apartment building. His heart tightened as he remembered how he’d thought she might have fallen into Langley’s hands, and even though he now knew part of the truth, that Langley had not gotten his hands on her, his heart ached as if he would find Maray sliced up by Langley’s claws once he got to the apartment. And as fear for Maray’s safety took over, something changed.
Jemin ducked into the shadows of the doorway, further under the portal, and waited for the first shock to pass. His entire Yutu-body was shaking as he realized he had just crossed an entire district in the shape of an Allinan beast, hopefully unnoticed.
With a gulp of air, he leaned his heavy shape against the pale-yellow wall and waited for his muscles to stop spasming. He must have portaled into this dimension unintentionally. Seri would probably be with him in a second. She knew how to cross the borders, and as a Yutu, she was probably better at tracking than he had been as a guard. Jemin’s rational mind was there, working hard to convince himself that he was going to be out of there before anyone had a chance to notice him and identify him for what he was—a creature that didn’t belong in this world. For if anyone did—Jemin was aware of the history of this world and magic. A hunt for mythical creatures was as common as a witch hunt had been in the Middle Ages. Maybe they would catch him and put him in a zoo…
As Jemin’s thoughts ran wild with fear of getting caught, a scream from behind him almost tore his eardrums. He shrank to the side and hit the back of his head on the wall as he turned it. The impact immobilized him for a second before he could blink, and when he finally managed to open his eyes, a pair of wide orbs looked at him in horror.
“Ruf die Polizei,” the woman said to someone behind her in the doorway that was now gaping, revealing the view of a small, night-covered yard. Jemin knew enough German to be able to understand that she wanted someone to call the police.
“No!” Jemin stopped at that word, surprised to have his voice back. He grasped that the woman wasn’t looking at him because he was stuck in the body of a beast, but because he was naked—a naked, human, young man. A laugh escaped his lips as he thought of the irony. It was a lot of people’s nightmare to suddenly be naked in public, and for him, this was the more harmless choice of the two nightmares he could have woken up to. He shook his head and covered his loins with his bare hands for lack of anything better to do.
At the sound of his laughter, a man stepped out of the door, throwing shadows onto Jemin’s stomach. “Belästigt er dich?” the man asked and stepped protectively in front of the woman. They were both middle-aged, the woman fairly pretty in a timeless way and the man fashioning a display of courage any Allinan guard would appreciate.
The woman shook her head, and her eyes glimpsed downward from Jemin’s face before they returned with a hardened look. “Wahrscheinlich einer von denen die sich in letzter Zeit hier herum treiben. Du weißt wen ich meine, Georg, die die Probleme haben gerade aus zu gehen… auf Drogen oder so…” She crinkled her nose. “Ich wünschte die Polizei täte etwas gegen die.” Then she bent forward a little, out of the protective shadow of the man. “Do. You. Understand. What. I. Am. Saying?” she asked in English, adapting to Jemin’s single ‘no’ and making every word sound as if it were its own sentence.
Jemin considered pointing out that he was naked, not stupid, but something in her eyes told him that she had something specific in mind when she was speaking about ‘those guys who’ve been hanging out in the area lately’.
“I apologize for the inconvenience,” Jemin started, pulling himself together. “I would get up and introduce myself properly, but—“ he nodded down at the rest of his body—the body that now felt like his own, and not like an oversized shell with fangs and claws and fur, “—for obvious reasons, I think it’d be best if I remain where I am right now.”
The man nodded and the woman tightened her eyes, scrutinizing Jemin’s expression. “Liebling,” she said without taking her eyes off of Jemin. “Hol’ ihm was zum Anziehen.”
“Ich lasse dich nicht allein mit ihm,” the man objected. But the woman turned around and pushed him back through the door as she walked back inside with him.
“We’re getting you some clothes,” the woman explained and ordered, “Stay right here,” before she let the door fall shut behind herself, but Jemin was fast, reflexes he’d been training for years still in place and even enhanced now that he was a shifter. He slid one hand in between the door and the door frame, preventing it from fully closing and bit back a curse as the iron squeezed his fingers. He breathed through clenched teeth, listening to them argue in hushed voices. “Der Junge friert, Georg,” were the last words audible as the echoes of the stairwell swallowed their muffled conversation.
This was it. The door was open. All he had to do was get upstairs and into Maray’s apartment before the couple returned. He checked the sidewalk, but no one was there. This was his chance.
With a clumsy motion—clumsy for both a guard of dimensions and a shifter—Jemin pushed himself to his feet and slid in through the door, ignoring the explosion of pain as his fingers were freed from the iron lock. He needed something to open Maray’s front door. A key, a needle, a bobby pin… His eyes searched the corridor as he made his way to the stairs, and as he passed the bike room, something caught his attention. There was a baby carriage sitting next to a scooter. The baby carriage itself wasn’t promising, but the scooter had a stand, which could be used as a crowbar. Jemin’s mind celebrated for a second before he slipped into the room, careful to stay away from the window, and got to work on the stand.
“Wir hätten die Polizei rufen sollen.” Then Georg’s voice returned from somewhere up in the stairwell. “Das gerät komplett aus den Fugen. Heute sind sie nackt, und morgen nutzen sie unser Haus als Hauptquartier für ihre Drogengeschäfte…” His voice trailed away as it was swallowed by the sound of the elevator.
Jemin remembered he had about ten seconds before the elevator would open and the couple would walk right past the bike room. Instinct kicked in, and he ripped the stand off of the scooter, cutting his palm in the process. He darted upstairs just in time to turn the corner and move out of sight before the elevator doors opened on the ground floor and the couple’s discussion continued toward the front entrance.
Jemin didn’t wait to listen to what they had to say when they realized naked Jemin was no longer in the doorway but stuck the stand in between the door and the wooden frame to rip open Maray’s apartment door.
When the door sprang open, Jemin gasped with surprise. He remembered he’d been strong before. Stronger than most humans and skilled at improvising access due to his history of spying on the palace for his father. But this was more than human strength—it was Yutu-strength. And for the first time since the transformation, he was grateful for the add-on.
He slid in through the gap, checking over his shoulder to make sure he hadn’t attracted attention, then shut the door carefully with both hands, avoiding any noise. He had done i
t. He was in.
As he turned, an image similar to the last time he’d been there presented itself to him. The kitchen was still destroyed, claw marks across the oak wood floor, and everything that wasn’t screwed to a wall was strewn across the space. Jemin ghosted to the windows to pull down the blinds so nobody would see inside, then searched for the nearest light switch. His shifter eyes allowed him to see better than he had with his purely human ones, but his vision wasn’t remotely as clear as when he was in his Yutu-shape. As the room brightened, Jemin spotted Maray’s moss-green sweater next to his feet. She must have dropped it on the way out when they had left for Allinan on the run from whatever had been after them. He bent down and picked it up. It smelled of her, a wonderful, floral scent that he had never fully appreciated before. Even when he hadn’t held it to his face, he could catch her scent. It was all over the apartment.
There was a trail of claw marks originating somewhere in the rooms in the back of the apartment. Jemin followed them until he stood in front of a large, wooden closet with its doors ripped from their hinges and what was left of the contents spilling out of boxes that had been stored inside.
Jemin identified a pair of pants, and with shaky hands, he picked them up—they looked a lot like Gerwin’s even though this was Maray’s room. With a glance around, he recognized most of the furniture had been destroyed, Maray’s bed, protected by a dust-cover, the only item that seemed whole.
Jemin pulled some boxes from the closet and combed them for a shirt and a sweater his broad, human shoulders would fit into. When he slipped into them, the fabrics were itchy on his skin, not the silken Thaotine he was used to, but better than being naked. Eventually, he sat on the edge of the bed and stuck his feet into a pair of socks.
Being able to cover himself and feel warm and sheltered gave him some comfort even when he was aware that he was far from safe. He wasn’t able to control his shifter nature yet, and he had no idea how to portal back to Allinan. Should he wait for Seri to come find him? Or was it smarter to try and make his way back in his human form so he could get to Pen’s cabin and hide from the world until he was sociable again?
Undecided, he closed his eyes and dropped backwards into the covered mattress, sending a cloud of dust into the air. Her scent emanated from the bed even if it hadn’t been used for over a month. Jemin watched the dust dance above him and thought of Maray. How much longer until he would be able to return to the palace? He needed to get Seri to send word to Maray that he was alive—a shifter and unable to control his transformations or portaling, but alive. But would she want him around now that he was no longer human? Would her feelings change?
Had he known that he would return as a beast, would he still have left and gone on the mission? He would have. Nothing would ever keep him from fulfilling his duty as a soldier to the crown of Allinan—especially if that crown would one day rest upon Maray’s graceful head. Finding out that Gan Krai might still be alive and going after Maray for some reason was an achievement in itself, even if he didn’t know what that reason was. But it gave him an advantage in his attempt to keep Maray safe. All he needed to do was go down to those dungeons and confront Rhia about it. If there was one thing he had learned over the years, it was that if there was something bad going on, he could almost be certain Rhia was somehow involved. And whatever his decision would be, try and return or remain at the apartment and wait for Seri to find him, there was more than Rhia to fear, for she was safely locked away. However, Feris was still out there, and so was Gan Krai, and not to forget the Shalleyn who Rhia had struck a bargain with. He felt it now more than ever: roamed by hidden demons biding their time to breach the borders, this world was as dangerous as Allinan.
Maray
“Thanks for coming on such short notice.” Laura welcomed Neelis, who whirled in the door, boots muddy from whatever terrain he had recently crossed.
Maray’s heart almost stopped at the sight of him. Why hadn’t anyone told her they were back—Neelis, Seri, and Jemin? Why hadn’t Jemin come to her yet? Where was he?
Neelis joined the small assembly in Gerwin’s chambers where the rest of them—meaning Laura, Gerwin, Commander Scott, Pia, Corey, Wil, and Maray—had been discussing Rhia’s revelation for most of the night. Neelis avoided Maray’s inquisitive gaze as he rushed by her and joined Scott beside the bed where a recovering Gerwin was resting his back against the headboard, tired from almost having died the other day and from the topic of the discussions.
“What happened to the Ambassador?” Neelis asked with concern.
Gerwin waved his hand to dismiss the topic. “Long story. First things first.” His eyes wandered to search Maray’s, who was waiting for Neelis to speak about how their mission had gone, but he directed his gaze at the floor and fell silent, dark eyes hidden by a thick frame of lashes and his chin buried in the collar of his jacket. Jemin should be here if he was back, shouldn’t he? Not just because he was part of the guard and in, it seemed, on all of the secrets. Maray stared as if she could conjure answers from Neelis until she came to the conclusion that he wasn’t going to offer information, and it wasn’t long before Maray’s patience ended.
“Where is Jemin?” she asked in a tone that was sharper than she had intended, driven by boiling concern for the one person in this court she felt she could still trust completely.
Neelis’ head turned, and the look on his face told Maray that he’d rather she didn’t ask.
Maray considered swallowing the need to ask holes into the shifter’s brain the way she would have in the other world where she had been a normal teenager, but she was no longer that person. She was Maray Elise Cornay, and Neelis, pack master or not, shifter or not, was Allinan, and he was a subject to the Allinan Crown, which would one day weigh on her own head. He had to answer even if she was just a Princess—not the Crown Princess. “Speak, Neelis LeBronn,” she demanded. “Tell me where he is.”
All blood seemed to drain from Neelis’ face at the words she used. She had commanded, not requested, and the look on her mother’s face told her that Laura disapproved.
“I apologize, Neelis,” Laura intervened. “Maray would really appreciate hearing of young Jemin Boyd’s whereabouts.” The way Laura phrased it shamed Maray. Her mother had once said to her that royals suggest and let their subjects figure it out. That they show respect to their subjects if they expect respect from them. Otherwise, as a royal, they wouldn’t be one bit better than Rhia.
Maray took a deep breath and pushed aside the horrifying vision of a pale and lifeless Jemin before she addressed Neelis again. “I apologize, Neelis,” she said. “What I meant to say is I’d like to know where Jemin is. I am worried about him, and you are the only person in this room who potentially knows what happened and when he will be coming back.”
A nod from Gerwin behind Neelis showed Maray that she had done well. She had spoken her need to understand rather than forced information out of someone. She had given Neelis the opportunity to prove himself a loyal subject by handing over the information she requested, and she had given him a reason why he should be telling her—that she was worried about Jemin. Her father was the first to introduce her to that concept of communication, and he had been trying to shape her to be ready to step into her role in court even if he had never told her about her heritage. All of his diplomacy-talk had been for his own job as much as for her future as an Allinan princess. Maray could see that now, and she didn’t like it one bit. He had lied as much as Rhia and Laura, and God knew who else. Maray ground her teeth and waited for Neelis to react to her not-properly-phrased request.
“He is back. Jemin is back and safe,” Neelis said with an expression that didn’t let Maray fully believe what he was saying.
“Then why isn’t he here?” she asked, controlling her tone and surprised it didn’t sound like the harsh accusation she was actually ready to spit at Neelis.
Neelis was quiet for a moment, the rest of the room waiting with tension for his news, before h
e folded his arms across his chest. “We found the red-eyed Yutu.”
Maray felt her heart accelerate as adrenaline flooded her system, and she almost didn’t dare ask the question. “Did you find out who it is?”
Neelis nodded and eyed her awkwardly.
“And?” Maray was growing impatient again.
“Jemin was the one to face him, and he said it was Gan Krai… but that can’t be true,” he added. “Probably just a really well-executed illusion to intimidate opponents,” Neelis justified, but as he looked around the room, a group of horrified faces met his gaze.
Maray was horrified for two reasons. First, because a sighting of Gan Krai meant that Rhia’s words might hold more truth than any of them wanted to believe, and second, because if Jemin had faced the most powerful warlock in history, who was commanding the Shalleyn, it was highly unlikely he was all right.
“We tracked him down in the south, and the warlock tried to sink Jemin in a frozen lake.”
Maray’s stomach clenched, but she didn’t interrupt despite all of the questions she had. She needed to hear what had happened to Jemin.
“And when I fished him out from under the ice, I was in my Yutu body, and I used my claws…”
“Please don’t tell me you created another one by accident.” Pia was the one to comprehend first, while the rest of them were waiting for Neelis to explain.
“Create what?” Laura asked, confusion having replaced the horror on her features.
Neelis shamefully looked at the floor. “A shifter,” he admitted. “If things turn out the way they have before whenever I accidentally scratched someone, Jemin will be transforming soon.”
Maray couldn’t close her mouth even when no words were there to hatch from it. All she could do was stare and wait for someone to tell her this was a joke, or a dream, or anything that would mean that none of this was real—Jemin’s transformation, or Gan Krai, or the Shalleyn.
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