Shifter Legacies Special Edition: Books 1-2

by Mark E. Cooper

  She took only a moment to get her breath back then hurried across the beam and back onto the sagging roof. The planetarium dome loomed close. She ran toward it, but suddenly lost her footing and fell. Her foot had punched right through the weakened roof, but it held her weight, barely, and she pushed herself back up. She hissed in pain, and wrenched at her leg, trying to free it.

  We should be as one.

  “Not now, Furface,” she growled. She pulled, ignoring the pain and the sound of her jeans ripping. Something warm trickled down her leg, and into her sneakers. Blood. “I’m a little busy here.”

  There is no more time. You know the gun will not kill him. You know this! You cannot fight him this way, but together we have a chance. Only your fear stops you from embracing me. Let it go!

  She shook with cold and the beginnings of fear. The rain fell so hard, she could barely see her hand as she pulled frantically on her leg. It wouldn’t budge more than an inch. If Ryder found her like this, she was dead.

  “Could you stop yakking, and help me?”

  You admit you need my help.

  She cursed under her breath. “Don’t let it go to your head, Furface.”

  Let me out.

  “Why?” she asked warily.

  You are stuck because your foot is the wrong shape. It will not bend down far enough.

  She swore again; she should have thought of the Change. Her other forms didn’t have Human feet; they wouldn’t have become trapped like this. She didn’t want to change, but she didn’t want Ryder to find her like this either. She frowned. Maybe she could change just her legs without Smoke’s help. It had worked for her eyes after all.

  Fool. Your fear makes you weak.

  “Worried?”

  Chris didn’t wait for an answer. She concentrated, trying to remember how her half-wolf form had looked and felt. Pain crackled up her leg as the bones in her foot dislocated and changed. She clapped a hand over her mouth to hold back a scream, and forced her foot to warp into something resembling a paw. Groaning in pain, she finally pulled her leg out of the hole, and rolled onto her back.

  “Okay… that hurt,” she mumbled with her eyes closed against the rain. “That really hurt.”

  She rolled onto her side, and then sat up to look at the damage. The leg of her jeans was hanging in strips all the way up to her knee, as if someone had hacked at it with a knife, and her shoe was missing. Being a shifter was turning out to be really hard on her wardrobe. Wisps of black hair covered her foot, and ran part way up her leg. The change had stopped at her knee. Her foot wasn’t a foot anymore; it was a very large, very weird-looking paw. Only it wasn’t really a paw either. It looked nothing like a dog’s foot. It was long—about a size eighteen if there was such a size—and narrow at the heel. The ankle was all wrong. Her foot attached to her leg at about a forty-five degree angle, and the ankle let it rotate down but not up. The rough pads proved the foot was designed to carry her weight on the toes. There were four; each was wide and wickedly clawed.

  She stared at the monstrosity attached to her leg. There was no sign of the paint she had used on her toenails that morning. She had done a good job too. Hysterical laughter bubbled just below the surface, but she forced it and her absurd concern about nail varnish away.

  We should go. Ryder might have heard your whimpering.

  “I don’t whimper.”

  Chris kicked off her remaining shoe and tried to stand. It was no good. Her right leg—the changed one—was longer than her left; much longer. She concentrated, and forced it to change back. She bit a knuckle, and didn’t make a sound. After a few seconds of intense pain punctuated by the crunching sound of bone re-knitting, she had a pair of Human legs and feet again.

  “See?”

  Smoke remained stubbornly silent.

  Chris scampered bare foot over the roof, and reached her objective.

  The planetarium’s dome was in good shape; no rot, no holes, nothing. She circled it, looking for a way to see inside and found the roof access door. Chris peered through the porthole-like window set in the door and saw a light. It was the first sign of habitation she had found, but that wasn’t all. There was a peculiar-looking contraption like a dumb-bell in the centre of the room. It was the old projector. The light shone from circular glass facets that dotted the machine at either end. Of to one side, near the lowest row of plushly upholstered seats that circled the room, Ryder was leaning over someone strapped to a table.

  Chris grabbed the door handle.

  Don’t!

  “He’s got Jason down there. I’ve got to get to him.”

  He will hear you!

  She released the handle reluctantly, looking around in frustration for another way in. “I’ve got to get in there. He’s doing something to that kid. Something bad, I know it.”

  Then look for another way in.

  That was easier said than done. It could mean climbing back down the scaffolding, and Jason might not have that much time. Her plan had been to drop onto Ryder from above, but the storm had ruined it. Smoke was right. Ryder would know the instant she opened the door no matter how quiet she tried to be. What made her mad was that she hadn’t realised it straight away. It had been a waste of time coming up here… she frowned, or had it?

  She ran back to where she had fallen earlier, and crouched next to the hole her foot had made. She peered into the darkness, and thought she saw wooden flooring about fifteen feet below. It was a corridor or maybe an office. It would have to do; she didn’t have time to find another way inside. Trying to keep the noise to a minimum, she carefully widened the hole, and slipped through. She let herself hang from her hands for a moment, and then let go. The storm and the sound of water gushing through the ruined roof covered the noise of her landing.

  She peered around and decided she was in one of the exhibition halls. The room was much too large to be an office, and there were still one or two old display cases against the walls. Thick dust covered everything; it puffed up and hung in the air around her legs like mist as she moved. She pulled her boomer and flicked off the safety before heading for the planetarium.

  Don’t do this.

  “I haven’t got time to talk,” she whispered. “I’m working here.”

  You will be dying here if you don’t listen to me!

  “Can’t do anything else,” she grumbled.

  You hear, but you do not listen. Your. Gun. Will. Do. Nothing!

  “It will slow him down some.”

  But what then? He will rip you—us apart.

  Chris stopped when she reached the planetarium doors. One was missing while the other hung crookedly from a single hinge. She lowered herself to her knees, and then crawled through the opening. Ryder was still working on Jason; the boy’s screams testified to that.

  “Lord and Lady, what’s he doing to the kid?”

  Hurting him. Ryder wants revenge.

  She firmed her grip on the boomer. “I’ve got to stop him.”

  Then for your sake—and Jason’s—Let. Me. Out!

  Jason’s screams died away, replaced by sobbing. Ryder said something, but Chris couldn’t hear what it was. Jason shrieked again, and Chris shook her head. She had been fooling herself thinking she could take Ryder down like this. Smoke was right; she needed a bloody tank, not a boomer. She silently shrugged out of her coat, and put her weapon on top of it. Her hands shook, but not from the cold. She didn’t want to do this, but if she could take out Ryder the way she had Janine, it would be worth it. She took a deep breath and…

  Not here! If you make a noise, he will be up here so fast that I won’t have a chance!

  Chris scowled and slid backwards on her belly. Once outside, she ran back to the hall containing the display cases, and stripped off her clothes. She piled them in the corner out of the way. Tremors ran through her body, and her knees felt like jelly. She tried to pretend it was all due to the cold, but knew she was fooling herself. Lord and Lady, she didn’t want to do this. She really didn�
�t.

  She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “All right. You want me to trust you, Smoke? Show me I can.”

  The pain wasn’t as shocking as the other times she had changed. She was expecting it for one thing, and for another, it was a known quantity. She knew she could stand it because she had done so before. She dropped to her knees to prevent herself from falling, and then lay on her side. She panted as things inside began shifting and burning, but she didn’t make another sound. Muscles stretched and tore, only to reform in new patterns moments later. Fur spread quickly, protecting her from the cold. Her ears lengthened and her face erupted into a muzzle filled with sharp teeth. Her legs, her arms, everything was warping into something else.

  Chris let it happen. She didn’t fight it; she didn’t make a sound.

  Smoke panted away the heat of the change, but did not stand up. Ryder was alpha like Jonas and Lephmann. He was too strong for her, but maybe not too strong for her half-wolf form. She concentrated on changing again. It took less than a minute before she was ready.

  Back at the broken doors, she listened to Ryder torturing Jason for information. Her ears were very keen; almost as good as they were in full-wolf form. Ryder wanted to know where Jason’s friends were. The boy was in no shape to answer, but Ryder continued his questions and his torture regardless. She could see that Jason wasn’t tied to the table; he had been nailed to it with daggers driven through his wrists and ankles. The boy hadn’t tried to change, or if he had, it hadn’t worked and she knew why. The daggers were silver. So were the knives that Ryder was using to flay the boy. Silver not only slowed healing, it impeded the Change. No one could change with that much silver in him.

  Smoke hesitated. She remembered Chris being stabbed with silver. She didn’t want Ryder coming after her with one of those daggers. She picked up Chris’ boomer. It was a puny thing, and didn’t fit her hand properly, but she was sure she could still fire it if she had to. Whether she could hit anything was another matter.

  She wasn’t concerned with stealth as she entered the planetarium. There was only the one way in or out, but she didn’t make a production of her entrance either. Ryder was so intent on what he was doing that she made it half way down the auditorium’s steps before he sensed her. He turned and raised the dagger for a throw, but she was quicker.

  She emptied the boomer at him.

  At least four of her shots hit Ryder. He staggered away from the table, but he didn’t fall. Neither did he have time to make the Change. Smoke dropped the boomer on the stairs and sprinted toward him. Before he could recover, she bowled him off his feet snapping and snarling at his face. He yelled and made a grab for her throat, but she was expecting the move. She clamped her jaws on his forearm and bit down. Hard. Blood spurted and bone grated on her teeth. Her eyes blazed at the pain she saw in his.

  Ryder brought his knees up sharply. Taken by surprise, Smoke sailed over his head, tumbling head over tail. She sprang back to her feet, spat the piece of flesh she had ripped from his arm onto the floor, and charged him again. The claws of her right hand raked his face, and she plunged those on her left into his belly. Ryder folded, but then he came back up with his fists leading the way. He punched her full in the face, and she staggered back a few paces. She shook her head to clear it and rushed him, but he was ready and a kick to the head sent her to her knees. Another kick threw her on her back.

  Ryder chuckled and came to stand over her. “You’re no match for me in any form, Lieutenant, or should I call you Chris now?” He ripped open his blood-soaked shirt to reveal his wounds had already healed. “You see?”

  Smoke exploded into a claw raking, snarling and biting fiend. This time she went straight for his throat. Ryder backed up, and turned his face away from her jaws. He raised an arm to fend her off, and her jaws snapped closed. She howled in pain, and threw herself away from him. He had used his dagger at the last moment, and her jaws had closed upon it. She shook her head, spitting blood and the taste of silver from her mouth.

  Ryder took the opportunity to run for the stairs.

  She dared not give him time to make the Change. She raced up the stairs in time to see him disappearing down the corridor. She sprinted after him, snarling in fury and screaming her rage into the darkness. He was faster as well as stronger than she was. He was getting away! No, she wouldn’t let him.

  Ryder ran her a good chase—he knew his territory well—but finally he made a mistake and ran down a blind corridor. He turned back just as Smoke skidded around the corner and into the corridor where he stood at bay. Lightning flashed, illuminating him through the tall windows at his back, and just as suddenly plunged him back into darkness a moment later. She edged toward him with her arms outstretched, determined not to let him get away. She decided to go for his throat again as a diversion, and then rip his heart out.

  Ryder grinned at her, as if he could hear her thoughts. “Stay out of my business, and I swear I won’t kill you. Take my advice, and stay away.” He turned and leapt toward the window.

  “Noooo!” she howled, leaping to catch him.

  The glass shattered as Ryder went through, and a blast of wind and rain filled the corridor. Leaning out the shattered window, she stared into the darkness, but all she could see was broken glass in the mud three stories below. He was gone.

  She went back to release Jason.

  “Leave me,” Jason croaked, his voice ruined from all the screaming. “I’m dead already.”

  She ignored him and pulled the daggers out of his wrists then out of his ankles. Jason screamed as each one came free. She tried to help him sit up, but he was too weak. Blood pumped from his wounds, and it wasn’t stopping. He had silver poisoning.

  “Listen to me,” Jason pleaded, “he’s going after Marty. You have to get to him first. Leave me.”

  She used her claws to shred some of the seats, and used the upholstery to binds his wounds.

  Jason grabbed her hand. “Listen!”

  “I heard you,” Smoke said, sounding like she’d been gargling with gravel. “Marty hiding. Ryder not find.”

  Jason shook his head wearily, and tears trickled slowly over his cheeks. “I couldn’t help it. The bastard tortured me for days… the silver. I’m dying. I can feel it burning inside me like poison. Please, you have to tell Marty I couldn’t help it.”

  She snarled and dragged Jason up by his neck. “What you do?”

  “I told,” Jason rasped. “Ryder knows where they are.”

  “Where?” Smoke shook him when he didn’t answer. “Where!”

  “Sanctuary,” Jason gasped.

  “Freeze!” roared a familiar voice.

  Smoke looked back in time to see Ken leading a dozen heavily armed uniformed police officers into the room. She glanced at Jason hanging limp in her grasp, debating running for it.

  “Drop him or I drop you,” Ken said in a hard voice.

  She carefully lowered Jason onto the table. She didn’t doubt Ken meant what he’d said. It was a shame he hadn’t been around to say it to Ryder earlier.

  Ken kept his stunner levelled, and the other officers followed his lead. “Can you understand me?”

  “I understand,” Smoke grated.

  “Good. Step away from him—slowly. Back up all the way to those seats and stop. Do it now.”

  She did what he told her to do, knowing that trying to run would only make things worse. Chris would have to deal with Ken, not her. She stopped when told to stop, and watched as the police came down to cover her with their weapons. They were carrying automatic rifles. One of them checked Jason for a pulse.

  “He’s alive.”

  Ken nodded. “Get an ambulance for him and a van for this… for the prisoner.”

  The officer nodded and spoke quietly into his radio. Smoke watched Ken approach. He barely glanced at Jason as he past by, so intent was he upon studying her. The expression on his face made her want to hide hers… or maybe rip his off; she wasn’t sure. The others were getting
nervous. They were afraid, she could feel it, and Ken was making it worse by approaching her. They wanted to shoot her, needed to. She remained statue-still as they took careful aim at her and spread out to avoid hitting Ken.

  “We found your coat, Chris. Change back and I’ll let you dress.”

  Smoke grunted in surprise. How had he recognised her? Not by the coat, Stephen had lent it to Chris along with the car. There was nothing in its pockets to link them. He must have followed her.

  “Change back or I’ll take you in as you are. I don’t think you want that.”

  “Did you get Ryder?”

  Ken’s eyes narrowed. “Ryder was here?”

  “We fight, he get away.”

  “All I saw was you killing that guy. Who is he?”

  “Jason Kirkwood. I not kill.”

  “Lucky for you that’s true.”

  “No. Ryder hurt him. I try stop.”

  Ken’s people seemed to think that was funny. Some of them snorted, others shook their heads and laughed outright.

  “You want me to shoot it, Lieutenant?”

  “… animals stinking up the city…”

  “Put ’em all down…”

  “… that would save some police time…”

  “What, and screw up my overtime, are you nuts?”

  Ken waved them quiet. “You can tell your side down at Central. Change back, or go as is. Your choice.”

  Ken sounded different, harder, and his face was like granite. He held his stunner unwaveringly in a white-knuckled grip. His scent was full of anger and pain, but beneath it, there was a deep sadness. When she didn’t comply with his ultimatum immediately, he stepped back and raised a hand.

  “On my order, put her down.”

  Most of Ken’s team seemed eager to follow the order. She began the Change.

  * * *

  19 ~ Interview with a Shifter

  The clothes they gave her were itchy. They had bagged all of hers as evidence, and taken them down to the lab boys. It was a damn shame about her coat. Stephen had given it to her to replace her old one. It was brand new and real leather.