by Cecilia Lane
She slid to the ground, not caring if it tore the skin of her knees, and shoved her hands high in the air. “Human!” she shouted. “I’m human! Don’t shoot!”
Chapter 3
Seth prodded at the bruises that colored his chest purple and black. Most others would have started healing in the damn parking lot last night, but that was one of the unwelcome side effects of his little quirk. He healed faster than humans but still looked like ground beef when lined up against true shifters. He’d be sore for days to come.
And what then? Go back to wrangling cows and pretend he hadn’t been jumped? Pack up and move on to wherever the wind took him? Neither option felt good. Only one seemed right. He’d made a promise to keep his trouble contained. Zeke and the others might leave him alone, or they could turn their attention on the entire Crowley pride. He couldn’t stand by while others suffered because of him.
Seth braced his hands against the sink and let his head hang. Maybe it was time to admit defeat. He wasn’t a shifter. He didn’t have an animal under his skin. Hell, he couldn’t even heal properly after taking a beating. He was, effectively, human.
No more enclaves. No more fighting on the circuit. He needed to move into the center of a city and forget the sounds and smells of nature. He needed to leave his brother behind.
Anything else was like a moth trying to survive multiple encounters with flames.
The sound of a fist pounding against his door pulled Seth out of his thoughts. He stood still for one full round, silently daring the disturbance on the other side to try again. Maybe if he ignored it long enough, he’d be left alone.
No such luck. The knocking continued.
With a grimace, he hauled his shirt over his head and made his way out of the bathroom. A handful of steps carried him across his former tack room turned studio to yank open his door.
He scowled at the man on the other side. “What are you doing here?”
Dash eyed him up and down. “Your face is fucked,” he drawled. “Maybe you do need a buddy system out on the town.”
Seth jerked away from the finger coming for his bruised face. His entire body shouted with complaint at the sudden movement. “Still better looking than you,” he grumbled.
His brother hooted with laughter and slammed a hand against his shoulder. “Someone had to inherit all the talent.”
“We both know it wasn’t you.”
Dash’s chuckle cut short as he caught something behind Seth. He edged to the side and peered into the room. Seth, too late, tried to block him, but the damage was done. His duffle bag rested on his bed. Innocuous, by itself, but the clean laundry in a messy pile gave him away.
The man’s eyebrows shot together. “Uh, going somewhere?”
Seth let himself be shoved aside, then slowly closed the door behind them. He’d hoped to get away with a short and sweet note, but fate apparently intended otherwise. “You were right all along,” he said blithely. “Ranch work doesn’t suit me.”
“Bullshit.” Dash whirled around. “This is because of those fuckers last night, ain’t it?”
“I gave Trent my word—”
“So you’re going to let some little fuckweasels run you out of town? Screw that. We’ll haul out tonight and show them they can’t fuck with us. It’ll be a pride bonding thing.” Dash grinned and rubbed his hands together with excitement. “Hailey will be so pissed when we aren’t begging for her to cook for us.”
“Dash—”
“No! Those fucks don’t get to wave their dicks around over this. Their fault loaning their rooms to the shitwolves that took my mate.”
“Your mate.” Seth pointed at his brother, then threw his arm wide. “Their mates. You’re all paired up and bringing cubs into the world. That is not my life. It won’t ever be my life. There’s a line between me and the rest of you. It was a mistake coming here.”
Dash’s eyes flashed. “Coming here was a mistake?” he asked in a low voice. “Guess that means all the brother shit was a mistake, too.”
Seth turned from him and marched for the dresser. As much as he could with his body screaming at him. “I do better on my own,” he grumbled, yanking open a drawer. “The pride will be better off without me.”
“Fucking hell. You’re moving like an old woman.” Dash snatched the shirts and threw them on top of the pile. Done, he grabbed Seth’s face between his palms and tried to turn his head side to side. “You look like shit. Did they get you with some silver?”
“It’s not silver,” Seth snapped and jerked out of the grasp. “I’m shiftless.”
Shiftless. The word was always muttered with disgust or pity. His very nature made other shifters uncomfortable. He was made wrong. Defective. Broken. Too human for their world, too much of a freak for the human world.
Shit. Seth scrubbed a hand through his hair. The deafening, engulfing silence tied them together in a truth he hadn’t wanted to share. Not yet, anyway. Not when he could still pretend he had a place among them.
But he didn’t, did he? He’d already given that up.
Seth grimaced at the duffle bag on the bed, then threw a look around the rest of the small apartment in the back of the Crowley barn. They’d made him feel welcome and helped him fill the place with secondhand furniture. In the months he’d lived there, he hadn’t added any personal touches. Not a photo to be found, nor any art on the walls. The place may as well have been a motel room. Maybe he’d always known he wouldn’t be a permanent resident.
His phone buzzed against the two-seater table where he’d left it. Both men snapped their focus to the interruption. Neither said a word. Neither moved.
The phone slid against the table with another vibrating rattle. Growl on his lips, Seth snatched up the device. He scowled at the number on the screen, then rejected the call and tossed it back down to the table.
Of all the damn days for her to reach out. She had the fucking nose of a bloodhound and knew exactly when to pile on more shit.
"Huh," Dash said finally, head cocked.
Anger churned in Seth’s gut. He’d put up with that shit his entire life. The stares. Attitude. The damn cold shoulder. Being eyed like a freak show curiosity.
“That’s it?” he snarled.
He’d learned to keep his mouth shut and his business to himself. Some small part of him hoped to avoid the reaction from his brother and the rest of his pride, but there it was. No fucking different from the rest of the shifter world.
Dash’s face broke into a grin. “Well, if you’re going to get pissy about it, it means you’re a damned dirty cheat. Undefeated in the ring,” he licked a finger and marked the air with a point, “until I beat you, my ass—”
“Fuck off. I won those fights fair and square.”
“On purely technical terms! Goading some asshole into showing fang is half the fun.”
When Seth raised his middle finger, Dash went on, “Shocked, mostly, that you kept it a secret all these months. You’ve been living here what, four months now? And not once did we question you never going on runs with us or hauling off for a fight in fur.” He shrugged. “Clearly, we’re idiots.”
“You said it, not me,” Seth muttered in agreement.
His phone rang again. Dash’s brows shot up and he pointed. “You need to get that?”
Seth thought—briefly—of rejecting the call a second time. Better yet, let it ring and ring until the robotic voicemail rattled off instructions to leave a message he’d never return. No personal greeting for his inbox; the only people from his past to call were his mother—who he always answered—and the woman looking to collect on a debt.
“Jaime,” he snapped as soon as he connected.
The woman on the other end let the silence stand for a second longer than necessary. “Seth,” she greeted in a warm tone. “Nice to hear your voice. Staying out of trouble, I hope?”
“You’d be the first to know otherwise,” he answered testily.
“Hm. I suppose that’s true.” She pau
sed again before getting down to business. “I need you to pick up one of my employees. I believe she may be in a spot of trouble and could use the extra protection.”
Seth paced away from his brother. Irritation crawled up his spine and settled in his temples with a throb of pain. This wasn’t the first time she’d had him keep an eye on someone. Usually, it meant babysitting some rich asshole for the weekend, but occasionally he kept the truly innocent from feeling someone’s wrath.
Resigned, he asked, “What sort of trouble?”
“It will be all over the news in a few hours,” she mumbled, almost to herself.
Her pause put Seth on alert almost as much as the words that followed.
“There was an explosion at the shifter-specific penitentiary, allegedly under the orders of Jasper Crowley and with help from inside actors. Numerous prisoners have escaped. It’s a damn disaster, and she may be the only witness.”
Seth locked eyes with his brother across the room. He hadn’t been there for the battles, but he’d heard about them. None of the Crowley males enjoyed picking through the memories and he wasn’t about to push them to open up about their feelings and personal traumas. The snarls and flashing eyes were answer enough to understand how that fucker Jasper touched their lives.
Now he was back to the same shit and orchestrating his own early release?
He didn’t know this woman from Adam, but he understood the burden of others looking to permanently silence his ability to call bullshit. “I can leave now,” he said. “Send me the address.”
Seth ended the call. He threw his phone on the bed and ripped open the top drawer of the wobbly dresser for the rest of his clothes.
“What the fuck, man?” Dash objected.
Seth shoved a stack of shirts into his duffle. He scratched a thumb down one side of the zipper, then lifted his face to meet his brother’s look. No use letting the news sit and fester. Better they heard it from someone they knew than random talking heads on the radio or TV.
“There’s been some trouble at Shiftermax.”
Chapter 4
Lilah shrugged the blanket tighter around her shoulders and fought the urge to fidget. She stilled her bouncing leg for a handful of heartbeats before the jittery movement started again.
Men and women darted all around the Supernatural Enforcement Agency field office. They reminded her of bees, all activity that made little sense to her but served some purpose for the hive. Phones rang and rang until someone finally had enough and picked up the line, only for others to continue chirping without answer. The same had happened for nearly five hours straight while she sat and watched and waited.
She glanced up at the clock on the wall. Five hours and ten minutes since she’d given her statement and been shown to a seat to wait. Not that she blamed them. They had a prison break to contain. She was small potatoes compared to that gnarly disaster.
She darted a glance toward the door. They had all her information. They could reach out whenever the worst of the storm passed. All she wanted to do was strip down, crawl into bed, and pretend the entire day had been all in her imagination.
No. They’d given her instructions to wait. Sticking to her promise to stay seemed the best thing to do on a day of lawlessness. She had to find order where none existed. Sometimes it was the only way to keep from falling to pieces. And frankly, going home when Jasper knew her address felt like trouble waiting to happen.
Her hands shook as she raised a paper cup of water to her lips, only to let it fall when she realized it was empty.
A shadow fell over her. “Lilah McKenna?”
“Yes?” Lilah craned her neck to see the man who’d spoken. The different colored shirt marked him as something other than the rank and file agents. The wide berth they gave put him above them in the hierarchy.
“Special Agent Mallory. I want to go over the statement you gave to one of my agents.”
“Of course.” She pushed to her feet and blindly followed him through the maze of desks and agents. He led her into a private office with a large glass window taking up most of the wall shared with the rest of the bullpen. A handful of decorations and books sat on otherwise bare shelves. The desk was well-used, with reports and papers spread over the wood and filling the tray perched on one corner.
“Take a seat. I apologize for keeping you waiting.” He paused and scrubbed a hand down his face. “Today has been quite a day.”
“Yeah,” she agreed with a stifled sigh. Cedric. Shit. Had anyone told his family? She remembered talking to Jaime Greeley early in her wait. What had the woman said? She’d take care of everything. That had to have meant Cedric.
“Can you tell me how you came to be outside the prison walls?” Mallory asked.
Unease prickled Lilah’s skin and raised goose bumps on her arms. She peeked at Mallory from under her lashes, but the man’s blank face gave away nothing. Even so, her stomach churned with a familiar discomfort. “I told the other agent,” she started slowly, “I went there on a client visit at Cedric’s request.”
“But once the riot started, why didn’t you stay in the attorney room?”
“I had no choice. I was made to leave with the guards. Jasper said two entered, so two needed to leave. He was worried about camera footage not being erased.”
“Jasper. You mean Jasper Crowley, correct?” He peeked over his paperwork, then looked down again at her nod. “His name is on the Warden’s list of the dead.”
“He’s not dead.” But she’d almost been. Cedric suffered that fate. And Jasper got away in broad freaking daylight. “I’m telling you what I saw. Jasper had help from the guards. He escaped.”
The agent folded his hands and fixed her with a steady stare. “Of course.”
Lilah bristled under his indulgent look. He didn’t believe her. With a hole blown through the walls and shifters running wild and a list of the dead, he couldn’t bring himself to believe her. How many freaking times did she need to scream from the rooftops before someone listened?
She hadn’t been believed as a teenager, either, but look who let the fur flag fly now.
Despite that, had she received an apology from her parents for forcing her from one therapist to another? Any acknowledgment that she'd been right all along? Shifters were dangerous and deadly, and now the worst of them were on the loose.
Lilah jumped at the sudden swinging of the office door and only relaxed when she recognized one of the firm’s partners, Jaime Greeley, sweep inside. Relief at seeing a familiar face sagged her shoulders. Grief welled in the empty pit of her stomach and threatened to crash through the numbness that had kept her together since that morning.
Jaime’s look took in and dismissed Mallory in an instant before she focused on Lilah. Her features softened as she crossed the room. “Lilah,” she breathed, “I’m so glad you’re okay.”
Lilah stiffened at the sudden hug. Even on the best of days, an unexpected touch wasn’t her cup of tea. With her nerves well past frayed and ready to snap? She quickly pulled out of Jaime’s embrace. “I’m fine,” she said, struggling to keep her voice steady. “I just want to go home.”
Except home was a danger, now. Monsters lived under her bed and in the dark corners of her closet.
Jaime and Mallory exchanged a look. “Of course,” Mallory said. “You’re free to go. We have your number in case we have any questions.”
“Would you be able to spare an agent as an escort?” Jaime asked. “We’ve arranged for a private security detail, but I’m afraid he’s still en route.”
Lilah shifted in her seat. “Security?”
Jaime turned to her with a reassuring smile. “Plans have been in place for precisely this sort of incident. Cedric’s insistence, actually. Should anything happen with our supernatural clients, those involved are to be given extra security. The safety of our employees is paramount.”
Tell that to Cedric.
Still, she was glad for the foresight. Liability, damage control, she didn’t car
e if the entire idea was built around not getting sued into the ground or pure altruism. She wanted to believe something stood between her and the monsters ready to tear at her with claws and fangs.
Lilah was utterly wrung out by the time Jaime pulled to a stop in front of her apartment building. She barely even acknowledged the SEA agent that requested her keys to do a sweep inside or Jaime’s offer to stay with her until her security detail arrived. Acutely aware of the eyes on her back, she gave the parking lot a general wave before slipping through her door.
She leaned against the door and dragged down an unsteady breath as soon as she was inside and alone. The quiet pulsed loud in her ears. The hum of the fridge, the beat of her heart. Such soft sounds drowned out all the remembered noise and activity of the SEA field office and set her teeth on edge.
Tears welled in the corners of her eyes. Cedric’s face and a whole mess of nameless others filled her mind. Dead. They were dead. She’d narrowly avoided going down that path with them.
She spun around and furiously engaged the locks and slid the chain into place. Still not enough distance between her and the outside world, she backed away until she bumped into a wall. Lilah whipped around expecting to find the hard chest of an intruder. The scream that bubbled in the back of her throat turned into a harsh yelp of laughter.
She was going crazy. For real this time.
She made her way to her bedroom. A scalding hot shower was in order. She wanted to wash the day from her skin, maybe burn away some of the memories that branded themselves on her bones.
Her energy gave out the moment she spotted her bed. Lilah collapsed on the mattress, not bothering to take off a piece of her clothing or even kick off her heels. She stretched out her legs with a wince of pain. Her knees hurt from the bruises and scrapes of road rash. Her wince turned to a grimace when she pulled her skirt higher up her thighs and ran her fingers over the jagged scars she’d carried for years.
