Remnants: A dark urban fantasy (Shifter Chronicles Book 2)

by Melle Amade

  I sit up and listen. My house is dead quiet.

  Whatever solution I’m going to find, I’m not going to find it moping around, alone in my room.

  Still, I can’t leave without checking on my kid brother. Mom’s not the only one who’s worried about things. I ease across the hallway, sliding my socked feet quietly, so the old floorboards won’t make a noise.

  Henry lies in bed, his arms flying above his head, mouth slightly open. His lips move loosely and gently with the heavy exhalation of his breath. I grab the book that’s lying across his chest: The Chronicles of Narnia, the Horse and His Boy. I can’t help smiling as I carefully slip in his latest bookmark, a white one-dollar bill from Monopoly™, and place the book by his nightstand. I brush aside his short bangs, slightly damp from sweat, and kiss him gently on the forehead. He smells of bubblegum toothpaste and dirt. His lips smile and he stretches before rolling on to his side and curling into a little ball.

  With Henry safely tucked in, I’m free to go.

  The earth is dry, hot and charred. No rain has soaked the layer of blackened ash that covers the ground. Most of the animals have left, looking for a place where there’s food. I had no idea of the devastation I’d cause when I burnt the Sanctuary. If I had that to do over again, I don’t think I could. Not now I’ve experienced the destruction of the hillsides.

  Mist from the ocean has rolled in and there’s a gentle fog shrouding the blackened tree husks that rise like mutated sticks out of the earth. I’d say there’s nowhere to hide, but as I get higher up the canyon, the fog is denser and anything could be shrouded in it. I can keep to the path because I know the exact way to the Sanctuary and Van Arend manor is just further up the hill. The crackle of dry leaves behind me makes me jump.

  My body freezes, hands raised protectively in front of me, but I can’t see anything more than two feet away. I strain to hear something, anything that will tell me what the creaking noise is. It sounds like someone is walking towards me through the dark mist. I squat down low on my haunches. When there’s nowhere to hide, low has got to be better than standing up, broad and wide, an easy target for something to attack. Vasquez should still be detained by the Order in a shifter prison in Mexico or New Orleans, I can’t remember where they said, but he couldn’t have gotten out of prison this quickly.

  Could he?

  A twig snaps against the ground crushed under foot or is it under paw? I try to decipher it, but I can’t. I want to call out to Roman? Zan? Maybe Callum or Aiden? But I don’t dare because what if it’s not them? What if I’m just telling somebody that I’m here, a sitting duck?

  Searing pain pummels my body as my talons press their way out of my fingers. There’s a dull ache in my bones. I reach up carefully and gingerly with the back of my hand and feel my face. It’s not changing.

  Yet.

  I’m not supposed to shift, but I can feel the blind panic rising inside of me. The shadowy fog suffocates me and my heart thrums in my chest. My skin is clammy and the hairs on the back of my arms stand straight up. My ears are straining so hard to hear something they are practically popping out of my head.

  Boom!

  Something crashes through the mist behind me!

  It’s big and terrible with a deafening force. Agony rips through my body tearing at me as a scream erupts from my chest and I jump straight into the air. I’m shrinking and shifting mid-air and suddenly beating my wings and shrieking before I even realize what’s happening. My body throbs as I pound the air ferociously, flying away from whatever it was that crashed through the mist.

  A layer of fog lies deep in the canyon. I’ve no idea who or what just attacked me. My small bird heart is slamming against my ribs as I scan the perimeter, but the sky is empty except for the stars and the pink moon.

  On the horizon, at the top of the canyon is Van Arend. Mist lies around its foundations like calm ocean waves lapping at its walls. I need help. If I fly low and shift back to human before I get there, it’ll be safe. No one will see me as a dove. There’s no way I’m going back down into the woods.

  I fly just above the white mist, hopefully blending in with the fog. When I’m just before the massive walls of the manor, I duck down into the mist and shift, slamming against the wall as I transform into human form. I move quickly to the small gate and rush to the front door, banging on it. Aiden yanks it open in seconds, his face a storm of anger.

  “I saw you flying in from the terrace of my room! What the hell were you thinking?” He drags me into the dark recesses of the manor. I’m weak and exhausted from the frantic flight up the mountain.

  “You’re bleeding!” He grabs my arm, which has long slices running along it. Blood drips down my arm and off my fingertips.

  “I was attacked,” I pull my arm back, covering the wound while it heals. “Or something.”

  “By what?” Aiden asks.

  “I have no idea, but it was huge.”

  “Thanks for the clarification.” He stands there with his arms folded over his chest glaring at me.

  “I don’t need your sarcasm, Aiden. Maybe you want to start with: Are you okay?”

  “Are you okay?”

  “Yes.”

  He raises an eyebrow at me. “Did anything actually attack you?”

  My brow furrows. “Well, something jumped out at me, or something.” I’m starting to feel lame. “Look, the fog was too thick. The minute I shifted and flew up, I couldn’t see anything below and I sure as heck wasn’t going to fly back down to check.”

  “What happened, Shae?”

  I push a strand of hair behind my ear and brush imaginary dust off my jeans. “There was a loud noise and…” My brain dredges through the moments before I shifted trying to find some concrete evidence of being attacked in the woods, but there’s nothing there. Just creepy night noises. “But no. I’m fine. Must have hit a branch on my way up.” I finish lamely.

  “Alright.” He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. “You can’t do that.”

  “I know,” I say. “I didn’t mean to shift. Really.”

  “No,” he says. “I mean, right, you can’t shift, but I mean we all have to take it down a notch. We can’t all freak out at the smallest thing. There’s too much at stake. Your life being the biggest issue.”

  But his jaw is tight and there are dark circles under his eyes. I know it’s not just me worrying him.

  “Has Zaragoza found a solution for your dad?”

  Aiden gives a swift, short shake of his head. “What were you doing in the woods anyway? You’re supposed to just stay home and keep quiet. It’s bad enough you went to training this morning.”

  “You said to come by and you’d help.”

  “I didn’t mean fly up here,” Aiden says.

  “We’ve established that,” I mutter. “Look I need help.”

  He slides his hand in his pockets, his eyes glow a soft gold. “Come on,” he says. We don’t go to the grand ballroom with its blood red walls and dying animals. Instead, he takes me down a wide, broad hallway to a wood paneled chamber. But it’s not like 1970’s fake wood paneling in normal people’s home, this has the rich scent of old forest, shaved thin and steeped in years of pipe smoke and bourbon sipping. Aiden’s ancestors, in high collar finery, stare out from stuffy, dark paintings. A large fireplace covers one wall, it’s black, gaping mouth staring indignantly at us. It would’ve been great when the manor was in the cold Dutch climate, but it’s totally useless in Southern California. The huge room could encompass my entire house, but compared to what I’ve seen of the manor so far, it’s positively cozy.

  “Is this where you normally hang out?” I ask.

  “The drawing room was my mother’s favorite room.” He nods to a painting on the far wall of a beautiful woman with pale blond hair dressed in an elaborate 17th-century black gown with delicate gold silk embroidered across its midnight field.

  “Is that her?” I ask, but there’s no mistaking Aiden’s fine features. “She’s be
autiful.”

  “Yeah, she was,” Aiden says, but he turns away, motioning me to sit on the well-worn brown leather sofa.

  “What happened to her?” I ask bluntly. There have been so many secrets unraveled in the last few weeks, I might as well see if there are more. “I mean, I just know she died when you were born, but is that what really happened?”

  He sits across from me in the leather, overstuffed chair, his lanky body stretched out, fingers curving around the ends of the armrests. It looks almost as if he’s sitting on a throne.

  “Yes,” he says.

  “Sorry,” I shift awkwardly on the couch. “It’s just, you know, so many things I was told, well, they haven’t exactly been true.”

  He waves away my discomfort. “We got word today, the Berzeken are coming.”

  “The Order? But I was already found innocent!” I exclaim. “They arrested Murtagh.”

  Aiden lowers his chin and raises his eyebrows. “This may come as some surprise to you, Shae, but this isn’t just about you.”

  Heat rises and I shrink back into the cool, worn leather couch. “Sorry,” I say. “Yeah, I know.”

  “Every year, all the new shifters have a debut,” Aiden says. “We haven’t had ours yet.”

  “What, like, debutantes? A ball?” I raise my eyebrows. It seems fitting in this manor, but I wasn’t expecting it.

  Aiden nods. “Something like that. It’s just, usually the Order doesn’t come. Having the ruling Lord, in this case my dad, there is usually enough representation. But,” he sighs and holds out his hands, “they’re coming this time.”

  “Why?” The answer is obvious, but I want to hear him say it.

  “Well,” Aiden brushes some lint off his almost immaculate trousers. “They never disclose what they are actually thinking, but I would guess it’s two things. The first is that they want to check on my father and make sure he still controls Muiderkring West. And then, rumors have probably gotten back to them about this strange new Ravensgaard shifter suddenly discovered here. So-”

  “So, they are coming to check me out.” My fingers make a dull thudding sound as they tap against the leather sofa. Impending scrutiny from the Order.

  “They’re concerned,” Aiden acquiesces. “It’s not a big deal.”

  “Not a big deal? I can’t even – I don’t even – Aiden, you know I can only shift into a dove!”

  “You shifted into a raven before.”

  “One time. One lousy time.” My voice trills high.

  Aiden tugs his earlobe. “There is a solution.” But his voice is drained.

  “I’ll figure it out,” I say with a sureness I don’t even come close to feeling. “You have enough on your plate.”

  Aiden breathes in deeply, his eyes narrowing on me. “We, Shae, we’re in this together. That’s what it means to be part of a clan.”

  “We’re not.” I pull my hair back off my shoulders as I stand up. “This is my problem.” It was such a mistake to come up here. The last thing Aiden or Zan or any of my friends need, is dealing with my problems.

  “Slow down.” His hands motion the air. “Come on,” he says. He’s at the door in seconds holding it open. “We need to know how much of this you can control and this is a good night for it. The place is mostly empty. Everyone’s down at the farmstead.” The side of his mouth pulls up. “Let’s see what you got.”

  There it is. His smile. It feels like I haven’t seen it in so long. It might even be why I came here; it lightens me and lifts my mood.

  “I got upset with my mom today and shifted into-”

  “You shifted twice today?” He lowers his voice as we walk down the immense hall. “What are you thinking, Shae. You know my father forbid it.”

  “They were both accidents,” I say. “That’s not the point.”

  “That is the point. You can’t seem to control it.” His face pinches. I’m sure it’s one more thing he doesn’t want to have to worry about.

  “Don’t freak out, no one saw me either time,” I touch his forearm to ground him. His eyes flash to my hand, but he doesn’t move. “Listen, the first time I shifted today I was full of angst and I became a dove.”

  His jaw clenches. “It doesn’t make sense. You were mad at your mom and became a dove. You were scared and became a dove. There’s no way you can shift into a dove in front of the Order that’s the thing. So, either we figure this thing out or we get you out of town.”

  “Fine.”

  He pulls the door open wide. “Let’s find out.” He motions me down the hallway towards the manor’s ballroom. It’s empty, quiet and still. The blood red satin walls are dark in the pink moonlight streaming through the terrace doors.

  “Have you been using the words?” he asks.

  I shake my head. “I haven’t – you know – controlled it.”

  “Well, use the spell this time,” he says.

  “Now?”

  “Yes,” Aiden says. “Shift.”

  “Inside?” I ask. “But-”

  I’m stalling, terrified of the shooting pains and bleeding when I shift.

  “You’ll be fine,” he says. “The first time you shifted was inside a cave. This ballroom is three times the size of that cave.”

  I look around dubiously and it’s like all the growling, snarling animals on the wall are focused right on me. Aiden’s right, I know. But still this is the room where I first turned into a raven. This is the room where I attacked Murtagh. And, this is the room where all the shifters called for my blood - until I turned into a raven and then everything was fine. As long as I look like them, they like me.

  Aiden sees my hesitation, but ignores it. He turns his back and walks to the far end of the room and looking like he’s not doing anything, he pushes off the ground with one powerful leg and his body takes to the air, shrinks and transforms into an eagle.

  My breath catches in my throat.

  He’s magnificent as he soars through the ballroom.

  My blood quickens. His animal energy calls to me. I stand tense, watching him loop in figure eights. Aiden lets out a shriek that ripples through every nerve of my body, pulling me taut until I’m strung like an arrow in a bow, ready to fly.

  My body aches, but I’m controlling it. Holding back the shift as sharp pains reverberate through my bones. Sweat beads on my lip. The spell…

  “Hud feroaring ontstaan.”

  I push off the ground, turning, flying and gliding right next to him. We weave in and out of each other, dancing in flight. I’m free with permission to fly. My wings give a magnificent push thought the air, it raises my body and I glide forward, turning in a perfect arc. Movement of my feathers, tickles and delights my skin as we soar in the blood red ballroom. It wells up inside me and flies out of my beak, a shrill call of pure joy.

  And, clearly not the shrieking caw of the raven.

  I am a dove.

  Aiden’s body grows and transforms as he glides to the ground, landing as himself. Or his other self. It’s unclear to me which is which. I haven’t been able to be a bird long enough to enjoy it, to be it, to know that it is me. How it is for Aiden, I don’t know.

  He motions me downwards. For a split second, I want to rebel, not follow the orders of the Heir, just aim for one of the doors and go out into the night. But the doors won’t open to my beak smashing into it and with all the Ravensgaard in town, it’s way too dangerous. I head towards Aiden instead. Drop and shift. I’m halfway there when I realize I’m still uncoordinated and don’t actually know how to land. My feet catch the ground and I stumble forward, into Aiden’s arms.

  “I’m sorry,” I murmur, but his eyes are bright in the dark ballroom.

  He brushes hair off my face and tucks it behind my ear. “You’re beautiful,” he breathes. “The dove is just glistening and pure.”

  I take a step back so suddenly I almost stumble, but his hand slips to my elbow and he catches me. “Thanks,” I murmur, turning away so he won’t see the confusion that just seem
ed to explode in my guts. “But it’s not going to be so glamorous if anyone else finds out.”

  “They’ll kill you,” Lord Van Arend says from the shadows.

  “Dad!” Aiden says. “You shouldn’t be up.”

  He waves a hand dismissively at his son. “I came to refill my decanter and caught the tail end of your performance.” He steps across the ballroom and the smell of whiskey fills the air.

  I can feel cust on my leg, blood warm against my skin.

  Lord Van Arend looks bad. Really bad. His face is haggard and bloated. He looks like he’s full of water. I haven’t seen him in the month since the trial, but Zan said he was struggling. We’d all hoped that becoming the Thunderbird and fulfilling his family crest… Rain is the Birdsong… had cured his alcoholism and empowered him.

  “Get her out of here,” Lord Van Arend’s words slur as he points at me. His hair falls in front of his face, but he can’t hide the storm in his eyes. Something crackles at his fingertips. I’m not sure what it is, but it looks like… lightning?

  Aiden steps between us, blocking my view. His jaw clenches and his shoulder blades stiffen. “I’ll take her home,” he says.

  4

  The next day I wake up to a text from Zan telling me to meet her at the farmstead. Dad’s off in his woodshop, so I just jump on my bike and head out. He’s supposed to be homeschooling me, but it’s pretty easy to catch up so we both sort of slack off until I have to get my assignments in. I’ll text him in a bit if this takes too long.

  It still surprises me how much the farmstead has changed in the past few weeks. It’s one of the first farms that was ever built up in Topanga. The first Murtagh came out here and built it when they first established this as an outpost for shifters. This is where Callum and his brother grew up with their parents. Callum lived here until his mom died and his dad left. The place was abandon when Jon left and Callum moved up to the manor. Through all of that it was slowly falling apart, the two-story house missing shingles, screens falling off and peeling gray paint. But since Callum was named Ridder and all the Ravensgaard have moved into town, it’s become a hive of activity.