by S. M. Reine
She built momentum by crossing the room, then leaped at the wall and caught a handhold ten feet up. She lifted herself by the strength of her arms, which was good for a woman her size—enough to lift her body weight and then some.
Deirdre kicked out, got a new foothold, and scrambled up the wall.
It was a lot easier to climb without Colin Burgh chasing her. Without the fear, and without the wild adrenaline, her focus was razor-sharp.
Her vision narrowed to the colored handholds higher on the wall. It looked like they were coordinated to create different routes to the top, but she didn’t use those paths. Deirdre made her own.
She was on top of the wall in a minute. From up there, she could see the whole gym. There were a few platforms built along the wall, as well as a few parallel bars near her level. There must have been people in the pack who practiced parkour like she did.
Deirdre sized it up within a moment. Then she was running again, heart pounding in her chest, air blowing past her ears.
At the edge of the rock wall, she leaped, stretching her hands out toward the nearest of the parallel bars.
For one exhilarating, frightening second, she thought that she’d undershot.
But then her hand touched metal. She gripped it and swung in a loop, watching the floor and ceiling flip positions.
On the down swing, just as she started to flip up again, she released. Deirdre caught the next bar, and the next.
Finally, she threw herself to the floor. She hit on her knees and rolled. It was the maneuver she’d failed to do while escaping Colin Burgh—the exact move that had broken her ankles.
This time, she landed it smoothly.
Her ankles still hurt. Deirdre rubbed them with a grimace.
The door to the gym opened, and she straightened, concealing her pain.
Rylie entered. She wore denim shorts and a yellow t-shirt, her damp feet covered in cut grass. Her hair was in a milkmaid braid and decorated by flowers. It wasn’t a very good braid. It looked like one of her kids had done it.
“Don’t you sleep?” Deirdre asked.
“I have seven kids. Sleep is overrated,” Rylie said. “I think we agree on that, since you’re working out at…wow, almost four in the morning.” Deirdre was surprised to hear the time. She hadn’t realized she’d been drifting through the town for so long. “Or are you having problems sleeping?”
Deirdre shrugged. “I’m sore from fighting Burgh. I just wanted to limber up.”
It was the wrong thing to say. Rylie frowned. “You didn’t heal?”
“I healed. My ankles aren’t broken anymore and I’m not bleeding.”
“But you’re sore,” Rylie said.
Even with her limited exposure to other shifters, Deirdre knew it wasn’t normal for her species to ache after a workout or fight. Everything was supposed to heal rapidly. Everything except damage inflicted by silver.
Nothing about Deirdre was normal.
Rylie sized her up again, like she was trying to decide what Deirdre could be on the spot. Deirdre had gotten used to earning that look from other shifters.
“Let’s go for a run around the sanctuary,” Rylie said.
Deirdre planted her hands on her hips. “Doesn’t the Alpha have something better to do?”
“At three forty-five in the morning?”
Good point.
Deirdre eyed the climbing wall with covetous longing. She would have preferred to stay in the gym.
But Rylie was the Alpha.
“Make it a race and I’m sold,” Deirdre said.
A smile spread across Rylie’s face. “A race, huh? Okay. From here to the waterfall. Whoever reaches the top first wins.”
“What do I win when I beat you?”
“Oh, I don’t know. You can pick if you win. But I’m pretty fast.”
“No shifting,” Deirdre said.
Rylie crossed her heart. “Fair’s fair.”
“Top of the waterfall.”
“That’s right.”
Deirdre stretched out her limbs again. She was still sore, which wasn’t prime condition for racing an Alpha werewolf. But she didn’t plan on beating Rylie with speed.
“Deal,” Deirdre said.
They moved outside. The breeze was picking up, a little chilly because of the altitude. Deirdre sized up the path to the waterfall. It was all the way on the other side of the sanctuary. The main road connected to the trail on the cliff, so it was an easy route to figure out, but circuitous.
It would be much faster to go to the waterfall directly.
Rylie stepped up to the edge of the trail. Deirdre took position beside her.
“Ready?” Rylie asked. “One, two, three…go!”
Deirdre exploded into motion.
Her feet slammed against the dirt, fists pumping, breath loud in her ears. She hit top speed within seconds. It was a downhill trail into the valley—great for starting out. Deirdre threw every ounce of energy into it.
Rylie did, too. And she vanished around the corner within seconds.
Even outside of her wolf form, Rylie moved like lightning.
Deirdre was a good ten seconds behind her when they reached the main road. Rylie was already halfway to town, a blond blur flying over the asphalt.
She didn’t follow Rylie.
The nearest building looked to be some kind of warehouse. Deirdre launched at the trash can outside, leaping onto its lid and bouncing off onto the wall. She caught a windowsill, heaving herself up to the next floor, and then the next.
She reached the roof and kept going.
The next building was even taller—a food processing facility. Deirdre vaulted onto an air conditioning unit and used it as a springboard to leap at the brick wall.
Uneven stones gave her handholds to climb to the next roof. The bricks were rough against her fingers, chafing her skin, scraping her shins.
Deirdre sprinted across the sloped roof, following the lower edge, carried by the wind. Now that she was above the streets, Deirdre was in her element. The watching forest didn’t feel like such a pressure. It felt like she had an audience.
When she reached the rear of the building, she spotted Rylie running on the street below.
Deirdre had caught up.
She backflipped off the building, arms crossed over her chest. She landed neatly on the opposite side of the street from Rylie. Her throbbing ankles took it well.
The Alpha pounded past. She didn’t even sound out of breath.
Deirdre’s adrenaline climbed, bringing the dark city into sharp focus.
She didn’t think, didn’t plan a route, didn’t let herself experience fear. Deirdre was flying. Instinct pulled her from one movement to the next, jumping and falling and rolling and vaulting over the next thing.
The world was a series of images—nothing more than glimpses. Easier than the climbing wall. More fun, too.
She’d reached the cottages. Her feet were sure on the white picket fence in front of one, giving her a platform to reach the roof. Each of the cottages was set near enough that she could leap from dormer to dormer.
Still, Rylie wasn’t far behind her. She was so unbelievably fast. Every inch the Alpha at peak performance.
Deirdre threw herself off of the cottage, swung herself on a tree branch, and landed on the beach.
She sprinted to the cliff, dirt spraying under her sneakers.
The trail winding up the waterfall was long and steep enough that it would slow even Rylie down—who had reached the bottom just as Deirdre hit the cliff. A cliff that was only a few hundred feet tall.
“Easy,” Deirdre panted.
She jumped onto the rocks.
They were slick with moss, wet from the spray of the waterfall. But the rubber treads of her shoes found purchase. Her fingers did, too.
And her body knew exactly what to do.
Deirdre climbed as easily as though she were running on all fours. She barely grabbed one rock before hurling herself to the next. He
r legs dangled half the time, swinging to give her extra momentum.
The waterfall thundered. The wind blew harder. Rylie’s pale figure reached a turn in the trail not far away.
But the top was close. So close.
Deirdre forced herself to tune out Rylie’s presence, focusing on the stars above. She didn’t look down. Didn’t look at the ground so far below, or the choppy black waters of the lake. She looked at the stars and at the clouds and felt weightless.
And then she reached up, and her hand found nothing above. Deirdre gripped the edge of the cliff. Heaved herself onto the top.
She got to her feet at the trailhead.
Three seconds later, Rylie appeared among the trees.
Fast. Insanely fast.
But not fast enough.
Deirdre flung her arms into the air. “Ha! Made it!”
“Holy crap, that was amazing!” Rylie smashed into her, gripping Deirdre in a tight embrace. They were both sweaty and laughing and out of breath.
Deirdre had won. And for a singular, giddy moment, she didn’t regret going to the sanctuary, nor did she regret volunteering to help a bunch of strangers with whom she had nothing in common but a species.
But only for a moment.
They relaxed on the edge of the cliff, drinking water from the river by scooping it out with their hands. Rylie recovered much faster, of course—she looked like she’d be able to race again five minutes later, when Deirdre was still soaked in sweat and breathing hard.
But Rylie didn’t seem to be in a hurry to go anywhere. She kicked back on the grass and Deirdre flopped beside her, letting the cool breeze wick away her sweat.
Now it felt like she could sleep.
Too bad she was supposed to leave in a couple hours. Orange touched the edge of the mountain as approaching sunrise lightened the velvety darkness to violet.
“What do you want as your prize?” Rylie asked. “Since you won and all.”
Deirdre chuckled breathlessly. “You kidding? I beat the Alpha in a race. I’m claiming bragging rights for the rest of my life.”
“Come on, you can do better than that. Get creative.”
She couldn’t think of anything that she could realistically demand. Nothing that Rylie could give her. “I’ll get back to you,” Deirdre said. “But I’m still bragging about this.”
“Fair,” Rylie said. “I honestly didn’t think you’d win.”
Neither had Deirdre.
“So what’s the lumpy thing over there?” she asked, waving at a grassy hill not far from the waterfall. It was covered in flower buds that looked like they were about to open, and it reminded Deirdre of a hobbit hill. A really ugly hobbit hill.
“It’s a memorial,” Rylie said. “I built it in honor of someone who was very important to me.”
And Deirdre had called it lumpy. “I’m sorry to hear about that.”
To her surprise, Rylie laughed. It was a bright, cheerful sound, considering they were talking about grieving the dead. “It’s okay. The man who died came back after Genesis. I just haven’t had the heart to tear it down. Plus, it’s been enchanted by about a million witches, so it’s incredibly safe on the inside. It could probably withstand a nuclear blast at this point.”
The enchantments weren’t as interesting to Deirdre as the person the hill memorialized. “This man came back after Genesis? Did he die because of Genesis?”
“No,” Rylie said. “We lost him a few months before.”
“Then why did he come back?”
“I don’t really know.” She shrugged. “I think someone felt like they owed us a few favors.”
Annoyance pricked at the back of Deirdre’s neck.
Nobody had owed her any favors. Nobody she cared about had come back in Genesis.
It was too beautiful a morning for such gloomy thoughts, so Deirdre let out a long, slow breath, relaxing into the grass again. But the reminder of her grief was a taint on the mood. Sickly disappointment writhed in her heart.
They relaxed for a few more minutes, watching the stars inch overhead and dawn slowly brighten the mountains.
When sunlight touched the tops of the trees, Rylie spoke. “Can I tell you a story?”
Deirdre didn’t sit up. She was still too exhausted to move. “I don’t think I can stop you. You’re the boss.”
“Please don’t think like that.” Her fingers crept over to pat the back of Deirdre’s hand. “I’m not anyone’s boss. I’m not a dictator. I’m the Alpha responsible for the pack. If anything, people like you are the ones in charge—I’m just trying to keep everybody safe.”
Deirdre rolled her eyes. It was so cheesy, the whole “the people are my boss” thing. But she said, “Okay. You can tell me a story.”
“When Genesis blindsided us with thousands upon thousands of new shifters, I found myself in a weird position. I used to be in charge of werewolves—a nearly extinct faction. Now people were looking at me to take care of everyone. But the sanctuary’s capacity was already maxed out at around a hundred occupants. What was I supposed to do with all the other shifters? Or all the gaean species who weren’t werewolves?”
“Group homes,” Deirdre said. “Obviously.”
“That was one part of the solution. Another part was expanding the sanctuary, of course. I made the city you see now, with new houses and dorms that raised the capacity to ten thousand souls. Even so, I couldn’t keep everyone.”
“That must have been quite a conundrum. I can’t imagine how you dealt with it.” Deirdre couldn’t keep the sarcasm out of her voice.
Rylie seemed to miss her tone. “It was hard. How was I supposed to pick who went to the group homes and who stayed with me? I had to think of the safety of the children first.”
“So you only took shifters you knew to be safe,” Deirdre said. “You sent the rest of us away and forced the Office of Preternatural Affairs’s gaean benefits system to take us.”
“I wanted to believe that some shifters would be happy with the other gaeans. You’re special, Deirdre. We don’t know what you are, which means you could be anything—and some shifters are closer to the sidhe than werewolves,” Rylie said. “They’ve got a lot more magic in their blood, I guess. You wouldn’t believe some of the creatures I’ve heard of people turning into. You could be anything. Literally, anything.”
“Like a Smith machine?” Deirdre deadpanned.
Rylie gave a little laugh. “Okay. Almost anything.”
Deirdre finally sat up, brushing grass off of her shoulders, picking a few pieces out of her long black hair. “Look, I get it. You put a lot of shifter children into a tough system because you couldn’t take care of us all. You’re only human. A bleeding heart. I don’t need to hear the story. You’re telling me about my own life here.”
“I was wrong,” Rylie said.
“Excuse me?”
“It was a mistake to shut anyone out. To say that we could take all the werewolves, but not the unknown shifters like you. To take the orphaned children, but not adults who had been changed in Genesis. To allow families, but nobody with a criminal history.” Rylie bit her bottom lip, staring hard at her feet. The rising sun highlighted her blond hair red along the edges. “Everyone was scared and confused after Genesis, and I let them down.”
Deirdre folded her arms, jaw clenching. It was something that she’d thought a hundred times herself—that the system had let her down. It didn’t help to hear it from Rylie.
It certainly didn’t take the anger away.
“A lot of cities were abandoned at the time. I could have left the sanctuary and taken one of those. Somewhere big enough that we could have included everybody.” Rylie stood up, wiping the seat of her shorts off. “My decision to abandon shifters left a void. Someone like Everton Stark was inevitable—someone who would take care of those I left behind.”
“What are you going to do about him?”
“I don’t know yet. I’ll figure it out. Whatever needs to be done, I know I won’t
be able to do it alone.” Rylie offered a hand to Deirdre to help her to her feet.
Deirdre wanted to hate her. The emotion broiled fiery hot inside of her.
But she’d always assumed that the decision to kick her out was financially motivated, or a selfish decision, or just because they didn’t want her. But Rylie’s intentions weren’t bad. She had just failed to do the right thing. It was an accident.
It didn’t feel like an accident to Deirdre.
My whole damn life…
She stood without taking Rylie’s hand.
“I’ve got a suggestion for where you can start,” Deirdre said. “The food stamps for shifters are terrible. It’s all red meat. Some of us want more variety in our diets.”
Rylie bit her lip and smiled. “I can probably help with that.”
“Great.” Deirdre hesitated. “My roommate back home, in our townhouse, is vulnerable without me. I’ve got enemies back that way. People who might go for her. She’s not a shifter—she’s a—”
“We’ll get in touch with her and see what we can do.”
“Well, she’s a vampire,” Deirdre said. “An asanbosam.” Vampires were new after Genesis; they hadn’t existed before the world ended. They didn’t have a structured society in place like werewolves did to support them. And werewolves definitely hadn’t reached out to fix that.
“It doesn’t matter,” Rylie said again.
“You really think you can save everyone, huh?”
The Alpha grinned. “Maybe. If I have help.”
Deirdre couldn’t refuse that smile. It was easy to see why Rylie was in charge of the gaeans. Despite all her flaws, she was incredibly convincing.
“Fine,” she said. “I’ll help you with Everton Stark.”
—VI—
Gage was waiting on Deirdre’s doorstep at six o’clock sharp. When he saw her emerge from the forest with Rylie, his eyebrows climbed his forehead. “Didn’t you two sleep?” he asked, hitching a backpack over his shoulder.
“Sleep is overrated,” Deirdre said.
“Yeah, especially when you’re going on a deadly secret mission and you’re not sure when you’re going to be able to sleep again without getting stabbed in the back,” Gage said. “I get it. Lookin’ good, ladies.”
