20 Shades of Shifters: A Paranormal Romance Collection

by Demelza Carlton

  24

  The Second Trespass

  My bare feet crunched on the stone and dirt as I ran deeper and deeper into Rewa territory, away from the city and into the mountains, leaving civilisation behind me as I tore through the golden grass that was the Australian bushland. As I did I kept talking to Ishan, saying the same thing over and over like a monk repeating a mantra, repeating the biggest and most serious lie I’d ever told.

  “Everything’s going to be okay. Don’t worry, everything’s going to be okay.”

  I had absolutely no faith in my own assertion at all. Ishan’s breathing grew fainter and the blood continued to flow from his wound. I was lost, facing an enemy I hadn’t even known existed before today and who seemed at least my equal, confident enough to attack me in broad daylight, with a draining power that could sap the strength from my limbs. I was getting further and further into territory the Rewa guarded with intense jealousy. Asena might or might not have escaped and Jacques was mad now. White hot with rage. In the past he’d been cold, calculating and unsympathetic. Not anymore. Would he chase me, or would he take his anger out on Asena, if he caught her? That did seem to be his way.

  Images flashed into my mind, raw and painful, of Asena lying face down in a ditch, of Jacques tearing my coven limb from limb…

  I forced them out of my mind and continued to run. That wouldn’t happen. I wouldn’t let it happen. But for now I had to save Ishan.

  I ran into a valley, the twin peaks of mountains flanking either side of me, and the valley opened up to a wide open area. I’d been here before, when I had first learnt what I was, but not from this side. I’d approached from the west, this time, from within their territory. I turned east and set my feet to motion… and I ran straight into a giant white fist.

  My face exploded in pain and I flew back into a ghost gum tree, cracking the trunk. Ishan fell to the ground at my feet and I stumbled forward, wiping the blood away from my nose, my left eye swelling up and shutting almost instantly.

  “Wait!” I said. “I’m not here to trespass!”

  “We’ve already warned you once,” came the familiar, threatening growl of Hailstone, the leader of the Rewa Rakshasa. “And you’re not a fledgling anymore, Aurora.”

  I managed to squint out of my right eye. It was Hailstone. I could hear, rather than see, the other Rewa moving around me. Encircling me.

  “It’s Ishan,” I said, speaking through a lip that leaked my own blood into my mouth. “He’s wounded. Badly. I brought him here.”

  Hailstone regarded me with suspicious, untrusting eyes. “Is that him?”

  “Yes,” I said, trying to make my voice convey the urgency I felt within me, while not appearing to be desperate. It was easy to inject the former but reining in the latter took some work. “The Champawat Tiger shot him. He has shadow creatures, and he’s coming after me.”

  Hailstone’s eyes widened and there were low growls of shock and anger all around me. “You brought Eclipse to our territory?”

  “I had no choice,” I insisted. “The Altaicans are scattered, guarding our home, protecting Katelyn, and Asena—”

  “Typical!” A green-eyed female moved towards me, leaning forward aggressively, her claws outstretched. “So you decided to, instead, burden us with your troubles?”

  I remembered this one. When I had first run into Rewa territory, she was one of the group who had confronted me. I got the distinct impression she didn’t like me at all. She had the same green eyes as Asena.

  And Jacques, I noted with some trepidation.

  “Shade,” cautioned Hailstone, “Ishan is wounded.”

  “Who cares?” she snarled, suddenly turning on him. “This is the second time you’ve allowed this Altaican fledgling to trespass on our lands! We should end her, and this sick fascination Ishan has with her at the same time!”

  Hailstone growled at her, low and feline, a rumbling sound that suggested imminent conflict. “You challenge my authority?”

  “What are we, pack beasts now?” She laughed a cold, disgusted laugh. “Wolves instead of Rakshasa? We have authority and ranking and status? Is that what we are now, under your ‘leadership’?”

  Watching the two bicker, I was struck by a sudden thought. The idea of authority and rankings rankled me somewhat. Nobody was the boss of me; I wasn’t a natural leader, by any means, but I disliked being told what to do.

  I always had. Perhaps that was my origin, my blood, pushing me away from that kind of life.

  “This is not the time,” said Hailstone, and with a determined, deliberate action he turned his attention back to me. “For now, we shall see to our kin. Starlight, take him to the hollow.”

  A youthful, short Rakshasa patterned in the white and brown of the Rewa tigers stepped forward. He couldn’t have been more than sixteen. The kid crouched over Ishan, carefully examining his injuries with a skill that seemed beyond his years.

  “It doesn’t look good,” Starlight said. “He’s lost a lot of blood and the projectile’s shattered his collarbone.” He wrinkled his nose. “Silver.”

  “They have silver bullets,” I said. “I could smell them all over the place.”

  “Silver slugs,” corrected Starlight, pressing his hands against the exit wound. “Shotguns typically fire, well, shot. Lots of little tiny balls. Except they can also be loaded with a single, large, grooved slug—it gives the gun more range and more penetrating punch. Useful for hunting big game.”

  “Okay,” I said, “what does that mean?”

  Starlight gingerly picked up Ishan, carefully cradling him in his arms despite the substantial size difference between the two. “It means that Ishan is in serious trouble. He has a severe wound, and the people who hurt him knew how to do it.”

  I felt as though my veins had been injected with ice water. “But he’s going to be okay, right?”

  “The projectile appears to have exited cleanly, despite impacting on the collarbone, but this is a serious wound.” He looked at me, staring me down with his dark brown eyes. “It’s something that fledglings have trouble with. We’re strong, we’re tough, but we aren’t immortal.”

  “He’s going to be fine,” I said. “It’s not a bad injury.”

  I was trying to convince myself more than anything else, and I think Starlight understood that.

  “We’ll see,” said Starlight, but I could sense the hesitation in his voice.

  I opened my mouth to say something, but Starlight abruptly turned and headed away from me, past his fellows. I instinctively went to follow, but the circle of Rewa Rakshasa closed around me, cutting him off.

  “That leaves,” said Hailstone, his claws extending ominously, “only the matter of you.”

  25

  The Scent of Lies

  I let my hands fall by my sides. The blow to my face had already started to fade, and I could feel the swelling go down. I could see out of my bruised eye again, not that this small mercy would help me.

  “I know I’ve trespassed on your territory without permission,” I admitted. “Twice. The first was out of ignorance, and this time I only did so to save Ishan. One of your own.”

  “You did it to save your own skin!” Shade hissed. “You probably shot him yourself!”

  I watched her whole body turn grey and rocky, the change moving over her like a wave. Her legs grew into the ground and her tiger stripe pattern became a mottled, earthy red.

  The circle of Rewa around me tightened, each of them aggressive and confident. There was no way, I knew, that I could stop them if they wanted to attack me.

  “Listen, I’m sorry about it, I really am. After today, I won’t return. Ever. But there are shadow people out there, and they’re coming. They’re coming here. I can fight them, I can hurt them, but I need your help.” I turned my palms upside down, holding up my hands. “If you want to punish me afterward, that’s fine, but I need to know Ishan’s okay first. When he’s out of the woods, I’ll submit to your judgement.”

 
; Hailstone looked to another of the Rewa Rakshasa. “Willowfeather?”

  She spat onto the ground, her nose wrinkling. “She smells of lies. They cloud all around her, like she’s been rolling in them. Dark untruths, against all evidence.”

  I shook my head. “No, it’s true! I’m telling the truth!”

  Hailstone narrowed his eyes. “Willowfeather can smell the lies around people. Trying to lie to her is pointless.”

  I inhaled, closing my eyes. “I have lied,” I said, “because I told Ishan that everything was going to be okay.”

  “Truth,” said Willowfeather, to my intense relief. “At least, that part was. The scent cleared.”

  I opened my eyes again, exhaling a breath I didn’t know I’d held.

  “Very well,” Hailstone said, giving a glance to Shade. “Then leave. Leave and never return, immediately.”

  I met his gaze, unmoving. “I can’t,” I said. “Not until I know that Ishan is safe.”

  There was a pronounced silence as Hailstone and I exchanged a long, uninterrupted stare. I could tell he was summing me up. Examining my intentions and testing my resolve. Not even the oldest and most powerful Rakshasa had powers that were absolute, or unyielding. Cinder’s gifts, as great as they were, were known for being occasionally wrong. Willowfeather’s apparent ability to discern truth from lies was not infallible.

  “Tell me of these shadow people,” Hailstone said at last, and I saw Shade throw him a look of bitter disappointment.

  “They can look like normal people,” I said, “but they’re really shadowy-stuff inside. They can move through solid matter, and if they touch you you feel really weak.”

  Recognition passed over Hailstone’s face and he inhaled sharply. “Wraiths.”

  Shade snorted derisively, slowly returning to her normal Rakshasa self. “Wraiths haven’t been seen in hundreds of years. Eclipse couldn’t command them, even if he could find them.”

  “Well he’s found a way,” I said. “They seemed to be doing what he said.”

  “Wraiths serve only themselves and their own kind,” said Hailstone, “although they have been known to cooperate with others for limited periods of time. Even humans.”

  The thought of something so powerful serving humans disturbed me. “Okay,” I said. “How do you fight them?”

  Hailstone gave a signal, a slight wave of his striped hand, and the Rakshasa around me backed down. He stepped towards me, regarding me stoically.

  “Nobody knows. It’s been too long since we last saw them.”

  I grimaced. “Well, that sucks. One of them touched me earlier… I felt cold, right in my bones, and all the strength went out of my body. But when it was pressing its attack, I clawed at it, and I think I wounded it. Kind of. It was hard to tell, but it backed off. It seems as though they can either be ghostly or real. So hit them when they’re about to touch you.”

  Hailstone nodded. “Right. Well, that’ll come in handy if we’re going to defend our home.”

  A murmur ran through the surrounding Rakshasa and I sensed many were not happy about his implied decision. They separated and wandered off, Shade lingering for some time and casting me a dirty look.

  “Thank you,” I said.

  Hailstone looked past me, at the hills I had run from, resting his hands on his hips. “I’m unhappy about this,” he admitted, “and not just because of you. If Eclipse is going to risk open warfare, he’s confident.”

  “Or desperate,” I said. “The eclipse is soon.”

  “I doubt someone who can command Wraiths is desperate.”

  I couldn’t help but agree, and as I looked up to the sky again, I watched the moon creep inexorably towards the sun, the lips of their disks closer and closer to kissing.

  Hailstone and I spent a moment discussing the Wraiths, where I recounted with as much detail as I could everything that had happened on my flight over here, and what had happened with Jacques. I told him everything I could, omitting no detail, but as the minutes ticked away my hope for the future faded. Clouds gathered on the horizon, an afternoon storm which brought with it cool winds, moist air, and a southerly breeze that dropped the temperature and swayed the trees.

  I could feel Ishan’s life force draining away and I felt intensely weary, as though his wounds were draining some of my own energy, too. I felt small and weak and insecure and in all ways like I had been before I’d met him. It was a slow, gradual process that I barely noticed, one that began with the fading of my tiger stripes and the dulling of my senses.

  Going blind, going deaf, can be something you barely notice until it’s pointed out to you. In this case it was my realisation how quiet it was. No more birds, no shuffling creatures heard an impossible distance away, nothing except the faint moan of the wind and the swaying of the golden grass in its wake.

  But even though I saw nothing, and I heard nothing, I could feel unfriendly eyes upon me. The shadow creatures, Jacques… I didn’t know.

  I knew they were watching me, though.

  Starlight returned to Hailstone and me maybe fifteen minutes later, his hands covered in fresh blood. He wiped them absently on a cloth tucked into his jeans then opened his mouth to talk to us, but I beat him to it.

  “Ishan’s in a bad way.”

  Both Starlight and Hailstone regarded me curiously. “Yes,” Starlight said, “he’s suffered a significant wound. The slug fragmented somewhat as it struck his collarbone; there are silver fragments lodged in the surrounding tissues. I’ve removed the flesh and muscle around the exit wound but now the bleeding’s much worse. If he pulls through, his power will restore the missing mass, but if he doesn’t…”

  Hailstone was looking at me out of the corner of his eye. I could sense that he wanted me to say something reassuring, but nothing came.

  “Thank you.” It was all I could manage.

  “He’s resting now,” Starlight added, smiling gently at me. “We’ve done all we can.”

  I immediately felt a deep, painful stab of guilt. I hadn’t done everything I could. Cinder’s words echoed in my mind. One of us had to die to avoid all the Rakshasa’s power flowing to Jacques. It seemed as though no matter how I tried to fight it, a nagging thought tugged at my conscience, reminding me in a subtle, polite way that I had one more option left.

  Ishan had been willing to die for me. I had to be willing to do the same.

  “We’ve done all we can,” I echoed, then turned to Hailstone. “Except one thing.”

  “What’s that?” he asked, curiously.

  Cinder’s words, the prophecy he’d spoken, echoed around in my head.

  one in true love’s thrall must die,

  or the power of the Rakshasa,

  once shared among the tigerhearted,

  shall pool in the hands of one.

  “Ishan will explain when he wakes up,” I answered, then without saying another word I began to walk down the hill, away from Hailstone and Starlight, away from the Rewa home and away from Ishan.

  Forever.

  26

  Nineteen Is Still An Odd Age To Die

  I felt weirdly at peace as I strode down the mountainside, my mind as clear and easy as though I’d just awakened from a long sleep. It didn’t take me more than a few minutes to reach the clearing, the wide open space where I’d first met Hailstone and the other Rewa. It had been a monumental moment for me, even though I hadn’t quite realised it at the time. It drove home just how suspicious the Rewa and Altaica were of each other, and how Ishan and I could never truly be together. Not really.

  It was the field where I had learned, subconsciously perhaps, that our future together would die. It seemed fitting, then, to wait for the shadows here.

  I stopped out in the middle of the field, standing as still and straight as a board, staring blankly towards the west, where I knew they’d come. The world was quiet now, peaceful and serene.

  Soon enough I heard the faint slamming of a car door, and the shadows at the far end of the field g
rew longer. Misty forms rose up from them, ghostly and hollow, their eyes glowing with a faint blue light. Four in all, regarding me curiously, eagerly, their long, thin fingers writhing at the ends of their shadowy limbs. As one they shifted further, the shadows coalescing into men, their rifles appearing from their bodies along with their clothes.

  I waited for them to kill me but they did not. Instead, a strange one-way standoff ensued, where the shadows and I stood apart, too far away to talk but close enough to see one another, until as a unit they parted.

  Jacques, Eclipse, Divakar… he had so many names, but in my mind, he was and would always be the Champawat Tiger. The murderer. He stepped between his shadowy huntsmen, rifle casually held in his striped hands, smiling a predatory smile as he came within talking distance.

  “So the fledgling comes to die, at last,” he said, breaking open the shotgun with practised ease.

  I said nothing and merely held his gaze, my breathing still and my mind set to purpose. I embraced my destiny with every fibre in my body. I didn’t want to die, not really, but a life without Ishan was meaningless. If he died I was already dead on the inside, a crippled husk, an empty shell.

  Without looking at the weapon the Champawat Tiger began to load it, slipping in two green shells, then snapping the weapon closed. He spent a moment craning his neck, twisting around, looking all around him as though expecting treachery.

  “You came alone?”

  I did nothing but slowly, deliberately, raise my arms out wide, stretching my fingers out as far as they would go.

  “Just get it over with.”

  He shouldered the rifle, raising it up, pointing it directly at my body. The distance, for a shotgun, made it a difficult shot even with slugs, but a skilled marksman against a stationary target would find it a simple challenge.

  I heard a faint roar behind me, enough to cause me to turn and look over my shoulder. I could see from the mountainside a half dozen figures, running as fast as they could, and even from this distance I could make out snow-white coats.