Of course. Part of the Highland games where brawny Scots swung an assortment of things around from large stones, long spherical shaped hammers and even tree trunks. Throwing, always throwing. The Open Stone was a simple toss from one hand to measure who could throw their silly boulders the farthest.
She saw where he was going. “We’ll need a pretty big rock.” Wait. This was her grandmother’s car. Judith Greves was anything but the typical conventional grandma. Leaning over Col, Lenore opened the glove compartment, her side brushing across his chest and she froze, closing her eyes tightly when he leaned closer, letting his chin rub the top of her hair. Did he just inhale? Tingles surged rapid-fire quick through her body. It took everything in her to focus on the task at hand. Oh, yeah, glove compartment. Charity. Monsters.
She searched through it and came up empty.
Okay. Not giving up, she rooted around beneath the driver’s seat and…yatzhee, came up with a shiny revolver. Thank you Grandma. She checked the chamber for bullets. Fully loaded. Grandma didn’t mess around.
Lenore grinned. “You want in through the window, big guy? Here’s your first class ticket.”
Col’s forehead scrunched like he didn’t have the foggiest what she was talking about. Yeah, right, gun meet ancient Highland warrior.
“Trust me.”
At his nod, she melted. Just like that, he took her word that she knew what she was doing.
She hoped to hell his confidence wasn’t wasted. “Ready?” She turned the engine over. Outside, the Morlocks faces swiveled toward the sound. Game on.
Col nodded again and instantly shimmered with light, a glowing pulsing nimbus outlining his form, filling the car with brightness. If the Morlocks didn’t see that, they were truly blind beneath those yucky eye scarring.
Col’s transformation was beautiful. He was beautiful. Like looking into his soul again only this time from the outside. She should know. She’d been inside him.
He looked like tiny bursts of light pulsing, changing in shape like a mass of glowing honeybees, forever fluctuating and shrinking.
And then he was gone. The light simply blinked out, plunging the car back into a velvet gloom.
A dragonfly hovered above the pool of Gabe’s clothes that had dropped in the seat. The sneakers lay on the floorboards. Wings buzzing, the dragonfly floated toward the closed window. It was amazing that all that Col was, his huge force of spirit, could fit in such a tiny miniscule thing.
“Kay, hang on. I’m going in.”
She didn’t know if Col could understand her, but, he floated down and landed on the seat. Lenore had the sudden crazy thought that she should buckle him in, which was ridiculous—adrenaline hysterics?—so she checked the gun instead, hit the button to roll down the windows and took a steadying breath. Shapes moved in front of the windshield, the beasts must have noticed Col shifting after all.
Holy Geez, what was she doing?
She felt like the getaway driver-slash-bodyguard for a dragonfly. How cartoonish was that?
Lenore punched the gas, shifted into gear and the Lexus shot forward. She hit two monsters head-on, screaming at the thunk of bodies on metal as they sailed over the car. Lexus’s were designed for being aero-dynamic after all. One hit the windshield and bounced off, leaving spider web veins in the glass.
Lenore sped on, hitting the brakes and sliding sideways into a jeep parked in front of Charity’s door.
Morlocks dropped off the buildings, swarming over both vehicles.
Twisting to the side, Lenore aimed high and blasted three shots out the passenger side window.
The window in Charity’s bathroom shattered.
Don’t be next to the window, Charity, don’t be in the bathroom, which was why she’d aimed at a high angle, but still…
Lenore couldn’t see dragonfly Col. He was too small. She wasn’t sure if he’d gotten out of the car.
A monster dove into the back of the car through the broken back window. Lenore shot him in the eye. Thick gray nasty blood splattered her face, coated the leather seats. Grandma was going to love that. He dropped to the seat, half his head gone, and his entire stench present.
Another leapt onto the windshield, slamming its fist into the spider web cracks, and claws ripped into her hair from the driver’s side window, scraping along her scalp, and pulling her head into the door.
Lenore did as she was told, get Col close and get out of there, excellent idea, and punched the gas, side-swiping another parked car.
Blue light whistled by. The trog using her hair as a rope screamed, twirling away, ripping strands from her head as it fell.
Lenore jerked the wheel, tires squealing and the beast on the windshield rolled away, taking the wiper blade with it.
Hitting the brakes, the back wheels jumped a curb and she squeaked to a stop, facing the way she’d come. Smoke lifted out from the sides of the car’s hood. Beasts were squeezing into Charity’s broken window, one after the other, even while the three yuppies poured their strange glowing ray gun bullets into them, dropping the beasties to writhing masses of injured globs on the ground. The trogs were taking a beating, but even the yuppies’ bullets weren’t enough to keep them down for good. They seemed to just slow them enough and make them mad. Geez, what did it take to kill one of them?
Lenore thumped out of the car. She had a gun of her own and fired the whole of her chamber into the monsters getting closest to the window.
There were too many of them and more coming out of the shadows, massing outside of Charity’s door. Where they had been content to wait outside, once Col went in, the Morlocks had gone crazy, trying to follow him. It didn’t make sense. It was almost as if they knew what Charity was up to and didn’t want anyone to interfere. Especially not Col. Which was completely messed up. What did monsters have to do with her sister going back into time? What difference could it possibly make to them?
Or was it just the scent of shapeshifter that spurred them on? Who knew? Maybe shapeshifter was a delicacy.
And what did the yuppies have to do with any of it? One minute they were ready to shoot Col and the next they were helping, keeping the beasts off him.
Charity’s door suddenly gave, slamming off its hinges from the combined weight and claws of the monsters. Damn, she was out of bullets. The yuppie trio fired into the creatures, blue rays zipping like fireflies, dropping the beasts to the pavement. Too bad the Morlocks didn’t know how to stay down long.
Malibu Ken raced to the monster he just shot and stabbed a knife in its ear. The body flapped and flopped and then went still. Well okay then, that worked. Head shots make all the difference. Stun them then knife them. Got it.
Following after the yuppies cleared the way, Lenore raced for the apartment door.
Col and Charity were in there.
A car alarm went off. Lights from other apartments came on. Several doors opened, people spilling out, getting an eyeful of monsters and out-of-this-world ray guns. That was going to be fun for the government to explain. Wonder what they’d make of it all. Not her problem.
One of the guy yuppies ran into the apartment after the beasts. Lenore raced in after him and a Morlock slammed down on top of her and the world bled away.
Chapter Sixteen
She awoke a few minutes later, at least it felt that way, though it had to be longer because she wasn’t where she thought she was. Or hearing pulsing ray gun fire or shrill screeches of the monsters. Someone was shouting. Several someones.
“Leave him alone!” That was the yuppie woman and one of the men shouting the same thing right over the top of her. But the screaming. That was all Col.
Lenore forced her eyes open, fighting past a grogginess that wanted to keep her securely under. Her head throbbed worse as she cracked her eyelids open.
She lay on her side, cheek pressed on cold cement covered in something moist. The yuppie woman’s black-clad legs were sprawled in front of her view where she sat bending forward, as she shouted, arms stretc
hed backward where her wrists were secured to something behind her out of sight.
On the other side of the woman, a struggle was taking place. Lenore could see several of the Morlock’s distended legs, bracing and scuffling as they struggled with one angry fighting naked Highlander. His screams were guttural and harsh and all too abruptly shut off. Col’s legs went limp, and then he fell into view as the Morlocks dropped him and moved away.
Eyes wide in terror, Col looked like he couldn’t breathe. His body was jerking, his hands at his throat, fingers curled into some sort of weird collar the Morlocks had put on him.
“It’s okay.” The woman tried to pull toward him. “I know it feels like its burning, but it will pass, I promise.”
Lenore lifted her head to shove up and the ground spun beneath her. By the time it settled, one of the monsters was in the process of securing Col’s arms to the same pipe the woman was tied to. They stretched his arms up from where he was sprawled on the floor.
Lenore stilled, avoiding placing any attention on herself. So far she had been left untethered, probably due to being unconscious and not a threat, and she wanted to keep it that way.
She waited until the Morlock moved away to join the group of ten or twelve others across the…wherever they were. It looked like some kind of industrial warehouse basement with those wooden shipping pallets stacked about and the only ambient light coming from a glowing EXIT sign above what had to be a dark door that the yuppie guy, the blond guy she’d given a face full of wasp spray, was slumped in front of, his wrists tied together over his stomach and his leg bent at an impossible angle.
Quiet and slow to not draw attention, Lenore eased up to her elbows and crawled.
Seeing what she was up to the woman bent her legs out of the way. “Get me out of these ropes and I can help,” the woman urged, eyes staring beneath strands of her long side swept fall of bangs, a trail of blood ran down the side of her face.
“Him first. I don’t know if I can trust you.”
She made it to Col’s side. His head pressed against his stretched out arm. He was covered in gashes of the ripped-into-with-teeth-and-claws variety. He must have put up one hell of a fight before being captured.
She touched his hairy leg and he startled, lifting his head a fraction, his forehead lined in misery, liquid eyes spilling over with worry. “Lenore,” he breathed out painfully. “Are ye hurt?”
“I’m fine,” she lied, her gaze blurring on the line of metal encircling his neck. The flesh beneath was red. “What have they done to you?”
“It’s made of gedisite,” the woman supplied. “It keeps him from shifting. He already attempted twice before they got it on him.” Yeah, it’d be a little hard to keep ropes on someone who could change into something small enough to slip out.
“Gedisite. Never heard of it.”
“You wouldn’t have.”
Lenore tamped down a flash of annoyance and went to get the collar off Col. He hissed in a breath.
She couldn’t find where it joined together. It was as though it had been fused on him.
“I can get that off if you’ll let me.”
Lenore eased up to work on the ropes at Col’s wrists instead, working on the knots while watching the Morlocks huddled across the room. They seemed to be in a heated debate. “Because you’ve been the soul of helpfulness.”
“We have been helping you. You have no idea what’s going on.”
“Really? And why is that?” Lenore got the rope loosened enough that Col was able to wiggle his fingers free. “Should we have stopped and listened while you were shooting at us?”
The woman’s lips tightened and she tossed her bangs out of her face, though they just fell back. “We weren’t trying to kill him. Just stop him.”
“I find that hard to believe when your guns were throwing ogres around the room like dolls. That kind of hit would have killed him.”
“Except the charges are calibrated for body mass,” the girl argued. “Bigger the target, bigger the kick. It would have only stunned you guys long enough for us to collect him.”
“Collect him?”
“It’s not like either of you would stop running long enough to hear us out. It’s imperative we stop Col.”
Every muscle Lenore had clamped up, making her head ache harder. She was afraid she knew the answer. “Stop him from what?”
“From keeping Charity from traveling to the thirteen century,” Col supplied “Or going in her stead. Forgive me, Lenore, I was too late. Your sister is gone.”
Lenore froze, stunned. It couldn’t be too late. “No. No. We have to get out of here and go back to the apartment.”
Pulling up to his elbows, Col winced. “I’m sorry, Lenore. She’s no longer there. I tried. The beasts held me off.”
Scooting closer to the woman, Col’s arms flexed, working on the woman’s restraints behind her back. “What’s yer name, lass?”
“Bekah.”
Col finished with the woman’s bonds. “Keep yer hands behind ye, Bekah. No need to tip them off until were ready to make our move. Now this collar, ye have the means to get if off me?”
“I know how, but I can’t here.”
Lenore’s world was shattered. Charity was gone. She was in no mood for games. “Seems were in this together now so you best tell him how to get it off. Now.”
“Cinnamon, all right. Just rub cinnamon on it and it will dissolve.”
“Cinnamon. That’s it?” Sometimes it took the simplest things to work.
“Trust me. It’s not that easy to get where I come from.”
“Ye know where to obtain this cinnamon?” Col’s dark brows pulled together.
“Yeah,” Lenore assured him. “No problem.”
A swell of relief passed across his features and he nodded. “Very well, Bekah, whatever our differences, we’re now in this together.”
“The Sifts have taken my weapons,” Bekah gritted out.
Sifts? Kay, so obviously the yuppies knew more about the beasts than they did. There’d be time for grilling her later.
“They can’t stay here all night,” Lenore said. Or was it day now? “Surely some of them will leave if we wait them out.”
“Leave?” Bekah scoffed. “They’re not going to leave now that they have what they want. Him.” She nudged her head toward Col, light bangs swaying with the movement. “Don’t you get it? You and me, we’re just food. A snack for the trip forward, but Col Limont…”
Lenore met Col’s troubled gaze, while Bekah kept talking.
“Now that they have Col, I don’t know what they’ll do with him. I doubt they’ll kill him outright, which would be a mercy. Bring him back, I suppose, as a trophy that they were able to stop the only man who could bring about their extinction… Better yet, keep the Sifts from existing at all. What they have in mind for you cannot be good. They may cut you loose, just so they can hunt you all over again, play with their food. That would be their style.”
Had she heard her right? Food?
“Fein sleep, Lenore. Now,” Col warned. The Sifts were looking their way. Lenore was already low to the floor so simply eased her head to Col’s knee and closed her eyes. Would they notice she had moved from the spot they’d dumped her in?
Nails scraped on the cement floor. Lenore’s mouth went dry, throat tight. The scream jolted her eyes open, heart pounding.
“No,” Bekah hiccupped, horror coating her voice raw.
Instead of coming to them, the trogs had gone to the yuppie with a broken leg by the door, a dozen clawed hands slashing into him. Bekah screamed for them to stop, shooting up to her feet. Col grabbed her, holding her back. Within seconds the monsters had ripped through the man’s stomach, pulling out organs and ropey intestines, shoving handfuls into their mouths like starving hyenas. And the guy was still screaming.
Lenore was going to be sick.
She was yanked off the floor and shoved forward, not toward the door where the Morlocks fought over scraps and t
orn limbs—an arm, severed at the elbow flew in the air where an acrobatic beast snatched it in his teeth—but the other direction, toward, a dark hall. Col held onto the yuppie woman by the arm though she no longer needed any prodding either as they flew down the dark hall, running as fast and far as they cold before the Sifts noticed they were gone.
Chapter Seventeen
Lenore never ran so fast. Ravenous troglodytes chowing down on a person in front of her was pretty damn motivating. And a pretty damn good reason to swear. Dammit, dammit, dammit. They ate him alive. They ATE him. Shit. They ate him.
She reached the wide door at the end of the hall first and slammed it open into gray daylight and rain. She wasn’t all that sure that if it had been locked, that would have stopped her as hopped up on adrenaline and fear as she was. They ate him. It—there weren’t even words to fit how awful that was. She had to get in touch with her grandfather, get his government friends involved and nuke the damn building. Holy shit. They ate him.
She ran up the watery cement stairwell and into a filthy alleyway between the backsides of close tenement buildings laced with grated balconies and iron seesaw steps going up at least eight stories and garbage melting into the street from the rain. The Sifts hadn’t exactly holed up in the ritzy part of town.
They ran on and on, putting as much distance between them and the man-eaters as they could, Col and Bekah following Lenore as though she had a clue where she was going. She didn’t. Just away, as far from the Morlocks as she could get. Feeding frenzy or not, they’d notice they were gone soon enough if the door slamming behind them didn’t give them a clue.
Finally her energy waned, her legs felt like rubber, and she shoved a hand out to a wall, pressing her other arm across the painful stitch tearing through the muscles in her side and promptly threw up. Long tremors rode across her pitching body.
Bekah leaned over, hands on thighs, heaving in air, and Lenore lost any shred of patience she ever had. She rammed the woman back against the wall and braced her arm across her throat.
Highland Shapeshifter Page 9
