Soulshifter

by Barbara Pietron

  To his astonishment, the idea of letting Natalie down was almost as big a deterrent from backing down. Now that he’d invested in the partnership, aborting the mission would cost him.

  Cost him what?

  Her friendship? Was she a friend? They’d really only known each other a few days.

  What about respect? How could Natalie respect him if he started this only to back out when the going looked tough?

  Jack scrubbed his hand over his face. His head hurt. He wasn’t sure why it should matter so much what Natalie thought of him, but it did matter.

  “You’re not required to do this, Jack.” Brody rose and Jack lifted his chin to meet his adviser’s eyes. “Think about it carefully.”

  Although Natalie didn’t know it, she ended Jack’s deliberation.

  He was propped up on his bed, texting with Wes while paging through a Rolling Stone magazine, when a call from Natalie showed on his screen.

  “Hey, Natalie. What’s up?” He hadn’t called her back yet because he didn’t know what to do. He needed his dad’s advice. Unfortunately, lunch came and went with no sign of his father.

  “I think I have good news. When we talked earlier and you said Dan’s last name, Manning, it rang a bell. It took me a while to figure out why, but then I remembered the glass eye and it hit me: Callie Manning. She works at the book store out by the mall. I kind of know her.”

  “Dan’s wife? You think she might tell you something?”

  “I already talked to her.”

  “You what?”

  “I drove out to the mall to see if she was working and she was there. She took her break to talk to me.”

  Jack was amazed. “Just like that?”

  “Yeah, except I didn’t know all the questions you would’ve asked.”

  “Do you think she’ll talk to me?”

  “Yeah, I asked her. And Jack, she’s going to try to convince Dan to help you.”

  “I can’t believe it. You’re awesome.” A large part of Jack’s uncertainty about moving forward melted away.

  “Thanks, I finally feel like I’ve done something to help get Emma back.” The breathless excitement in her voice made Natalie sound as if she’d just run back from the mall.

  “Tell me what you found out.”

  Callie’s fifteen minute break allowed only a brief version of the Manning’s descent to the spirit world to rescue their nephew. So Callie invited Natalie and Jack to come by later that afternoon.

  “Did she say what time?” Jack asked.

  “Anytime after three. She gets off work at two.”

  “I hope my dad gets home soon. If he says I can go, my mom won’t argue with him. I’ll text you as soon as I know something.”

  Jack was pretty sure he heard his dad’s truck roll up just before they said goodbye. Twisting sideways, he let out a moan. Ughh. He had to remember to move slowly. Swinging his legs off the bed, he carefully stood up, then paused at the top of the stairs until he heard his father’s deep voice.

  When Jack entered the kitchen, his dad sat at the table eating a late lunch and chatting to his wife. His gaze followed Jack into the room while keeping up his end of the conversation. Jack poured a glass of juice, turned from the refrigerator and met his father’s eyes. A slight nod confirmed he understood that his son wanted to talk.

  Jack wandered into the living room and contemplated the TV. There wasn’t much point in turning it on. The chances of finding anything to watch on a Sunday afternoon—or ever—were slim. Cable hadn’t made its way down Bittersweet Lane. Though satellite was an option, it wasn’t priority for the Ironwood family. If not for games loaded on his laptop, Jack would go nuts.

  He settled for the Sunday comics. He only stared at the colorful pictures for a few minutes before he heard the wooden scrape of a kitchen chair. The slightly uneven tread of his father’s footsteps elicited an instant stab of remorse. Last night wasn’t the first time Jack had been rescued by his dad. At least this time only Jack was hurt. The first time had been the other way around.

  Ron Winert was correct; Jack’s dad used to specialize in boat motors. He was once the most sought-after mechanic at the Lake Michigan marina. In the summer, on days his mom worked, young Jack went to the marina with his father. His dad taught him about boats and motors and found small jobs to keep him occupied.

  Because the marina rented pleasure boats, his dad occasionally had to assess a crippled boat out on the water. On the fateful day, Jack had begged to accompany him, anxious to get out of the shop and speed across the water. His dad relented and took Jack along.

  Normally, a speed boat ferried Jack’s dad to the stranded vessel, waited for the diagnosis, and then either ferried him back to the marina or towed the disabled boat to the docks. This time, a woman had become extremely sick from the rolling motion of the helpless boat so the smaller boat ran her in to shore while his father worked on the pleasure craft’s motor.

  Distracted by their own crisis, no one noticed the freighter bearing down on them. The larger ship, unaware that the pleasure boat was dead in the water until it was too late to alter its course, bellowed a warning blast. After a mad scramble for lifejackets, the remaining five boaters hit the water along with Jack and his father.

  Everything became muddled after that. Jack remembered a lot of screaming and shouting and then the buzz of a small motor. The speed boat had returned!

  Except it hadn’t.

  The sound came from a WaveRunner.

  Actually, there were two of them.

  Jack’s father grabbed his son by the lifejacket and towed him toward the nearest WaveRunner. The driver had already taken one of the boaters aboard and another was clambering up. “I can only take one more,” he shouted.

  “Take my son.” His dad spoke without hesitation.

  “No!” Jack wailed, even as he was being hauled from the water. “You can fit… see… no…” he babbled. The two rescued boaters sandwiched Jack between them.

  “I’ll come back,” the driver promised.

  Jack’s father nodded, then met his son’s eyes. Whatever he was going to say was obliterated by an enormous crack as the freighter smashed into the pleasure craft. The WaveRunner driver gunned his machine and zipped toward shore.

  They found Jack’s dad bobbing among debris from the wreck. He’d been tossed about in the giant swells the freighter created and slammed by a large piece of fiberglass. The severed ligament in his leg was never quite the same.

  Jack knew if he’d stayed at the marina, his father would’ve been on board the WaveRunner instead of in the water.

  His dad returned to work at the marina, but his injury made it tough to balance on a pitching boat. Three years later, when the opportunity to take over an existing auto shop arose, Jack’s father took it, and the family moved to Ketchton.

  Although Jack still loved the beach and the sparkle of sunshine on water, he never went much farther than ankle deep into Lake Michigan. He’d swim in small inland lakes, or ponds and rivers, but had no interest in boats. The mere thought made him break out in a cold sweat.

  His dad would be angry if he knew his son still felt guilty about the incident so Jack took a breath and carefully neutralized his expression.

  “Mom said Brody was here this morning.” His dad sank into the other end of the couch.

  Jack nodded. “You already knew though, didn’t you? That it was a hellcat?”

  “I did. Saw the red eyes from the porch.”

  “How did you chase it off?”

  “Light. Hopped in the truck and turned on the headlights—the brights. The thing kind of just… vaporized.”

  Jack looked down at his hands. “Dad?” He raised his head and met his dad’s gaze. “Am I crazy to do this?”

  “Jack, you’re only crazy if you’re careless and unprepared. What were you able to learn yesterday?”

  Jack brought his dad up to date. Right up to his recent conversation with Natalie.

  “Have you consider
ed there might be a reason why she was taken?”

  “Aside from being a teenager? It’s random, Dad. Wrong place, wrong time.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Pretty sure.” Jack thought about Eric’s data. The survivor said he hadn’t reached any conclusion aside from age. “Why would it matter, anyway?”

  “The best way to defeat an enemy is to know how he thinks. Be one step ahead of him.”

  “You really think he can be defeated?”

  “If he didn’t have a weakness, he wouldn’t be trying to discourage you.”

  “Well, it would definitely help if I could talk to the Mannings today. Mom didn’t want me to go anywhere. Did she talk to you about it?”

  His dad’s lips curved and his eyes crinkled at the corners. “Yeah. You realize you’ll always be her son first and a shifter second? She loves you, Jack. And so do I. But we figure you’re old enough to know how you feel. Just don’t overdo it.”

  A small part of Jack wished his dad would forbid him to go forward with his mission. But a much bigger part of him was bolstered by the confidence that came from his parents’ support.

  “Is the girl—Natalie?—going to pick you up?”

  “No, we’re going to meet at the Java Hut.”

  “Take my truck then.”

  His dad’s pickup roared to life and Jack eased onto the dirt road, wincing each time the vehicle lurched over a bump. By the time he reached Red Apple Road, his teeth were clenched tight and he’d never been so happy to see blacktop in his life. An autumn-scented breeze complemented the gray skies overhead and the vegetable stand on Red Apple Road displayed various varieties of squash along with crates of bright orange pumpkins.

  He saw Natalie’s car in the lot as he pulled into the Java Hut. He parked next to her, directly in front of the sign near the door announcing: WE’RE NOT AN INTERNET CAFÉ – WE’RE A COFFEE HOUSE WITH WI-FI FOR OUR CUSTOMERS’ CONVENIENCE. Natalie’s driver seat was empty. Jack took a breath and steeled himself for the drop to the pavement, but before he opened his door, Natalie appeared next to the truck with two cups in her hand. He rolled down the window.

  “I got you a plain latte. You don’t seem like the fancy-drink type.” The corners of her mouth curled. “I hope it’s okay. I didn’t want you to have to get out and walk in.”

  Jack returned her smile and accepted the cup she moved toward him. “Thanks. Here, hand me yours too, and hop in.” Natalie had to use the assist handle to climb into the pick-up and Jack hid his amusement behind a sip of coffee, grateful to stay in one place.

  “Figured we had some time to kill, might as well get a coffee,” she said once she was situated. “Is yours okay? Mine’s a vanilla latte. I’ll trade you if you’d rather have something with flavor.”

  “No, plain is great. I consider coffee a flavor.”

  “Ha ha, you know what I mean.” Then Natalie’s smile faded. “How’re you feeling?”

  “Sore. Grateful you saved me a trip inside.”

  “Well, I’ve got some interesting information. I spent some time this morning looking at Eric’s database. It looks like he must have a connection with the cops or something because he’s got missing person reports. Anyway, he put it all into a spreadsheet so you can search the fields for similarities. He’s right. None of the fields have the same answers.”

  Jack raised his eyebrows and sipped his coffee.

  “He did make the connection with the ages though—all teenagers, including a few preteens. I imagine he either knew or someone told him about the sacred ground part of his ordeal and then he confirmed that data on the other reports—one of the columns appears to be his notes on the locations. Anyway, what he didn’t notice, or just neglected to mention, is the religion column. The answers vary widely, but when I really looked at them, I realized they pretty much said the same thing: the kids had no religion.”

  “Wait. I’m not sure I follow.”

  Natalie lowered her cup to her lap and swallowed. “The reports are from all over so lots of different people fill them out, right?”

  “Right.”

  “Well everyone has their own way of saying ‘no’: none, n/a, no denomination, unknown, atheist… sometimes the field is crossed out or left blank, but it all means the same thing—none of the kids had a religious affiliation.”

  “Did Emma?”

  Natalie stared at him over the rim of her coffee cup. “No.”

  “How does that figure in, though?”

  “I’m not sure. But we’re talking about a god taking people to hell—it’s got to be relevant, right?”

  Jack mulled it over. “Yeah—especially since the kids have no affiliation. Like, does it make them more attractive? Gullible? Easier to steal?” He thought about what his dad said earlier about knowing your enemy and looked at Natalie with a sly grin. “You may have found the key to our success.”

  She beamed at him. “Really?”

  “No one else has mentioned this.” Jack checked the time. “Let’s head over to the Mannings’ and see what they say. Are you okay with leaving your car here?”

  Natalie nodded, pointed her key fob at her car, and received a satisfactory beep confirming the doors were locked. The drive wasn’t too painful, as the route included all paved roads, but Jack still used the last of his coffee to swallow some ibuprofen tablets before going into the Mannings’ house. He wanted to move without wincing. “Don’t mention the attack while we’re here,” he said as they approached the front porch.

  Natalie gave him an odd look, but Jack knocked before she could say anything.

  A petite woman opened the door. “Hi, Natalie. And you must be Jack. I’m Callie,” she said, ushering them inside. Her large, round eyes gave her face a youthful innocence bolstered by the long brunette hair she flipped over her shoulder.

  “Thanks for agreeing to talk to us.” Jack met Callie’s eyes briefly, then glanced to Natalie, wondering how you speak to someone with a glass eye without appearing to stare at their handicap.

  “Of course. And Dan will be joining us.” Her emphasis on the word ‘will’ made it clear she’d told Dan the same thing. “Man, chilly out there today. You guys want something hot to drink?”

  Natalie exchanged a smile with Jack. “No thanks, we had coffee on the way over.”

  “Okay, well, sit.” She extended a hand toward the end of the hall. “I’ll go find Dan.” She disappeared behind a door and Jack heard the clip-clop of footsteps on wooden stairs.

  The kitchen was immediately to their right, and they passed through a dining area on the way to the living room. Jack wondered at the odd arrangement—kitchen in front, living room in back—until he stood in the back room. Large windows made up the back wall and wrapped partway around the sides of the room. French doors led to a deck which spanned the width of the house.

  The Mannings’ considerable piece of property rolled lazily downhill to a pond large enough to swim and fish in. At least Jack assumed the fishing part, since a small row boat was pulled up on shore. The picturesque view could have been a watercolor or oil painting.

  “Wow.” Natalie sounded awed. “This was unexpected.” They chose a couch situated on a side wall where they could see outside.

  “I see you’re enjoying the view of Manning Pond.” Callie grinned as she entered the room. “We built it—you know, dug it ourselves—not sure what the correct term is. Our property backs up to state land and we figured why not create a habitat? Dan loves to fish, so we stocked it with bass, blue gill and perch. The ducks and frogs found it on their own.” She moved a pillow on the couch across the room, sank into the cushions and pulled her feet up next to her. “When he was little, Ty caught frogs all summer long. He always wanted to keep them, but we explained they already lived here.”

  Ty must be their son. Jack wondered at her past tense reference until she continued.

  “Of course, now the main thing he tries to catch is girls.” She laughed. “I admit I’m a little anxious about h
im being away at college.”

  “He’s going to be fine, Cal.” A tall man entered the room wearing a t-shirt and jeans. Jack noticed the muscle definition on his arms and chest. The only clues to his age were his grey hair and the deep furrows on his forehead. He sized up Jack. “So you’re set on going after this girl, huh?”

  “Yes. We believe she can still be saved.” Jack nudged Natalie and she stepped in, telling the Mannings about Emma.

  “I heard you already had a run-in with one of Zalnic’s minions. Do you realize the quantity of twisted creatures Zalnic has patrolling his realm?” Dan asked.

  Natalie turned to Jack, eyebrows high on her brow. “You what?”

  Jack shot a look at Dan. “How did you know?”

  “Brody Carter called.” He swiped a hand over his short hair. “Asked me to help.”

  “Uh… hello?” Natalie jabbed Jack with her elbow.

  Jack sighed. “The panther? It was a hellcat.”

  “Hellcat?”

  “Underworld guardian.” Jack answered without looking at Natalie. “Zalnic’s trying to shut me down before I get started.”

  “That’s why you didn’t want me to mention the attack,” she muttered, crossing her arms.

  Jack gazed from Dan to Callie. “We’re hoping you might tell us what you ran into and any advice you have on getting around them—or fighting them.”

  The Mannings hadn’t spent much time in the underworld, but they filled Jack and Natalie in on what they knew. “Just remember,” Callie said with a hint of a smile, “the blind salamander isn’t blind anymore.”

  “How did you… did it…?” Natalie struggled with her question.

  “It had my nephew. I was responsible for him. I bargained for his life,” the older woman replied matter-of-factly.

  “That’s how you got him back?” Jack asked. He wondered what they might have to barter with.

  “The only reason we got Chris back is because we went after him immediately,” Dan interjected. “I saw the Enuuki take him. Chris never made it to Zalnic’s citadel. Your friend is most certainly under Zalnic’s influence by now, somehow you’ll have to convince him to release her.”