by Leela Ash
Or the rage that came with it.
She felt it now, simmering behind the sorrow. A year of meditation, six months of grief counseling... and the fury remained. Lurking like a poisonous asp in her heart.
The secretary's cold, unfeeling eyes studied her. “You know your sister was murdered, yes?”
Shock took her breath away. “I always thought... I mean, they said she was a junkie, that she overdosed...”
“No.”
One word, but it breathed upon the embers of her anger, fanning it to life. Sorrow, sadness, guilt... all the dark emotions that plagued her for two years were drawn into the flames. Those weaker pains burned away until nothing but rage remained.
“Why?” Dakota’s voice trembled.
“Cally was pregnant. She bore the child of a very wealthy man. One who thought it would be cheaper to have her killed.”
Dark red clouds, rage given form, fogged her vision. For two years, she'd sought peace. She'd fought against blame, against anger. Worried that, somehow, some way, she could have saved her sister from the drugs that killed her. Now...
Now, fury set her free. Screw forgiveness, screw self-doubt. Cally was murdered. Dakota let that hatred wash over her.
She opened her eyes to find the secretary smiling. A cold, gloating simper. “Mr. Alester thought you'd care. And that you'd want revenge on the man who killed Cally.”
“Yes.” The word came out in a harsh croak.
“Excellent. First, though, I need to destroy your world.”
As if she hadn't already done that?
“I'm going to tell you something impossible. Something insane. Then I'm going to prove it.”
“Okay.” Whatever it took was fine with her.
The sinister woman leaned forward. “I'm going to tell you the truth: humans do not control this world. Dark powers lurk behind your companies, your governments. They're called Shifters.”
“Shifters?” Alarms sounded in Dakota's mind. Junkies and madmen spouted this kind of conspiracy theory. Not sane professionals.
“Shape-shifters.”
“Like werewolves?” Oh hell, this was too mad even for a meth-head!
“Wolves. Bears. Rats. And worse things.” The doubt on her face only made the woman’s smile deepen. “I myself am a Hare.”
“You're a were-rabbit.” Those locked doors looked really ominous now.
“Mr. Alester sent me to speak to you because my Kind is the least, shall we say, physically intimidating. We need to see if your mind is strong enough to handle the sight of a Shift. Most humans can't.”
“So, you're going to turn into a rabbit?”
“Yes,” she said.
And she did.
One moment, the secretary sat across from her, lounging in her luxurious fur coat. Then, light flared around her, the air shimmered... and the woman vanished. In her place sat a large white rabbit. One that had the secretary's brilliant green and blue eyes.
Dakota screamed and threw herself at the door.
The wisely locked door.
It took four trips back and forth across the Willamette River before the shaking stopped. Human once more, the secretary sipped champagne in silence and offered no words of help or advice.
In time, Dakota's heart slowed. The fear and shock that had threatened to drown her receded. In its wake, one simple truth remained. She'd just seen a woman turn into a rabbit.
Nothing was impossible.
“Compos mentis?” the woman asked at last.
She didn't know what that meant but caught the gist of it. “I'm okay.”
“Excellent. Then you're strong enough to help us. Strong enough to avenge your sister.”
Cally. Once more, anger flooded through her. This time, she welcomed it and the strength it brought. “How? What can I do? I'm just a human.”
“That's precisely why you're valuable to us.” A gloating eagerness lit the woman's face. Not a pleasant look. “Let me explain. The worst and most powerful of the Shifting Kind are Dragons.”
Dragons existed? Dragons? Shock threatened to overwhelm her again.
The secretary leaned forward hungrily. “Every fairytale you've read? Every story of Dragons' greed and cruelty? It's all true.”
That was almost funny, given that the secretary looked like the evil Snow Queen. Though, she had turned into a Hare. And bunnies couldn't really be evil, could they? Dakota couldn't think of a single story that had a rabbit as the villain.
“Some Shifters, like Mr. Alester, fight against them. We try to protect the humans they prey upon. Girls like your sister Cally.”
Who had been pregnant... with a Dragon's child?
“We've located one of the strongholds of these evil creatures. Unfortunately, we can't do any reconnaissance. Shifters recognize each other. Anyone we sent in would be spotted immediately.”
“So, you want me to spy on a...a nest of Dragons?”
“We want you to avenge your sister. I trust that's important to you too?”
“Yes,” Dakota admitted slowly.
“Good.” Once more, the secretary pressed a button on her armrest. “Airport.”
Airport? They were leaving Portland? “I need to get my...”
“You don't need anything.”
“But...”
“We're flying you to Upstate New York. We'll provide everything you need, including a house near this Dragon compound.”
Was she truly signing up as a spy? On something as dangerous as a Dragon?
Dakota thought of Cally. Her love of life. How she threw herself into everything she did. The way she brightened any party and drew the shyest man out of his shell.
She'd do anything for her. Even track a Dragon back to its lair.
“So, I do what? Spy on them?”
“Yes. Any information is valuable. In particular, we're looking for a specific site. It will be hidden somewhere on the Dragons' property, probably deep in the woods where their twisted rituals won’t be noticed. It looks like a natural spring, but to Shifters, it's far, far more.”
“What do you mean?”
A faint sneer of contempt curled her lip. “You wouldn't understand. Don’t waste time thinking about the bigger picture. You'll have more success if you focus on the jobs assigned to you.”
That insult stung like a slap. Reminding Dakota that she didn't really have any reason to trust this odd woman.
Still...
A chance to understand what really happened to my sister? To make the man that killed her pay for his crime?
How could she refuse that?
Thus, in the end, all she said was, “Okay.”
“One last thing.”
From a pocket, the Hare drew what looked like a large gray cigar and held it out. Strange letters spelled a word across its surface. ‘MeYaipa.’ Its weight shocked Dakota. Why, the thing had to be solid lead! She turned it over, puzzled.
“Think of your sister.”
“Why?”
“Indulge me.” Her cold, imperious tone made that an order, not a request.
Cally. Her sister's smiling face came to mind. Making pancakes together in the morning. Whispering secrets to each other long past midnight.
“No!” the secretary snapped. “Not like that. Think of her death. Contemplate the unfairness of it all, how she was torn from you by the sins of an evil creature. Think of your loss.”
The empty chair at Christmas. The birthdays that passed without a call. All the nights she'd seen some homeless teen at Mission House and hoped, for one cruel second, that Cally had finally come home.
Gone.
Because of some man.
Because of some Dragon.
Once more, rage swelled. This time, though, something joined it.
A fury that dwarfed her own blazed in her mind. Formless, causeless rage. Screams, wings, a dark, endless void. And through it all, rage. Mindless. Implacable. Lusting for only one thing.
Vengeance.
Dakota shrieked as
that word echoed through her soul. The lead cylinder dropped from her fingers and rolled across the floor.
Her hostess retrieved it and handed it back to her quickly. “Keep this with you at all times.”
Dakota shrank away, horrified by that brief touch with madness. “What was that?”
“It's a GPS device,” the Hare explained patiently. “When you find this spring, you need to hide this close by it so we can locate you.”
“No.” Dakota stared at the tracker like it was a rotting maggot. “What was that screaming?”
“I didn't hear any screams.” The secretary's delicate nose wrinkled. “Are you prone to fits of hysteria? If so, you may not be able to help avenge your sister.”
She hadn't heard that? Hadn't felt the touch of something vast and evil? Dakota swallowed hard and forced herself to take the lead tube.
Cool and heavy, it lay in her hand.
Nothing happened.
“I'm sorry. I must be a bit rattled by this all.”
“It could be a side effect of seeing me Shift.” As the first lights of the airport appeared, the white-haired lady stared out the window. “Don't worry. It will pass.”
Frightened and uneasy, Dakota gazed out the window too.
And wondered what she'd gotten herself into.
Chapter 2
Michael Farrell arrived late at the Stiles' farm.
On purpose. Being 'fashionably late' was a great way to remind them of your importance. Tradesmen and servants showed up on time. The powerful...well, they arrived when they were ready.
Though, as he entered the farm's living room, he was shocked to find that he wasn't the last. Only four Dragons sat within.
A slender brown-haired man lounged on the couch, devouring a plate of gingerbread. That was Owen Jackson. A man who always reminded him of an otter more than a Dragon. Entertaining, funny... and liable to nip you on the butt just because it amused him.
Two more stood by the window, speaking quietly. The chisel-jawed blonde with a Dragon tattoo curling up his arm was Darian Morland. Beside him stood a tall, broad-shoulder man in a tailored suit. Not a hint of gray frosted his black hair, despite his age.
Brandon Lorde. Alpha of the First Flight.
Sapphire blue eyes noted his arrival with disapproval. “Mr. Farrell. How good of you to join us at last.”
“Not last, I hope. We're short two.” Michael took a seat on the couch beside Jackson.
“Jamie Wolfe will not be joining us. He's still recuperating.”
No surprises there, really. From what he'd heard, the man had come perilously close to Falling. Chewing off his Dragon wings and becoming one of the loathsome Worms.
“And Donnelly?”
Jackson answered that, waving a square of gingerbread about. “He's got stuff to do. In the barn.”
“What on earth could be in a barn that would require a Dragon?”
His Flight-brother shrugged. “There were things. Heavy things, I believe. They needed to be lifted... or moved... or somehow shifted about. Probably repeatedly. I'm a little vague on the details, but Finn's taking care of it.”
Typical. His Alpha had called a council meeting and Donnelly was off dicking around with work that any human could manage. Still, it didn't matter. Planning wasn't the big Dragon's strong point – executing plans was. The more Michael thought about it, the more he approved. Some days, this Flight seemed to have too many generals and not enough privates. Good that at least one Dragon just wanted clear orders.
“Shall we begin then?” Lorde asked. “Since we're all here, now.”
Michael ignored that nip. His Alpha stepped to the doorway and called, “Hannah, would you show our guest in, please?”
His Mate entered the room like a ray of sunshine, casting a glow across the room. Some Shifters sneered about her. Why would Lorde, the Alpha of the First Flight, Claim a human woman? A farm girl, not a business woman or an academic with a dozen titles after her name.
Anyone who thought that was an idiot. Michael adored her; to him, she was the perfect Mate. Smart, brave, beautiful, and filled with a boundless compassion. She couldn't walk by a problem without stopping to fix it.
He rose as she entered the room and bowed his head. What he wouldn't give to Claim a woman like her!
“Michael, so formal!” Hannah laughed and shook her head. “Sit already!”
A teasing joke danced on the tip of his tongue – until he spotted what followed her.
The man who slunk in behind Hannah cast a pall across the room. Nothing was right about him. Not the unwashed brown hair that lay flat against his skull. Not his shifty, nervous eyes, pinched face, or the oil-stained khaki pants and a dingy flannel shirt that covered his scrawny frame.
And the aura that flickered around him… Revolting!
“A Rat?” Michael snarled. “You bring a Rat here?”
“Hey!” Jackson bolted to his feet, blocking his view of the foul creature. The two Dragons’ eyes locked in challenge.
A challenge Michael immediately broke by glancing away. What the hell? Jackson was one of the Flight’s most laid-back members. What had gotten under his skin?
“No stink-eye for our guest,” the smaller Dragon warned, his eyes still glittering with anger. “This is my neighbor, Walker Smith. He’s got important news for the Flight.”
“Mr. Smith,” Hannah interjected, “won’t you sit down and have some gingerbread?”
“Nah, I’m good where I am,” the Rat replied.
Which was standing close to the door, Michael noted. Where he had a five-step head start if he had to flee for his life.
Okay, the thing might be hideous… but he wasn’t stupid. The Dragon sat back down.
Slowly, Jackson joined him. “Tell everyone what you told me, Walker.”
“You know a Rat named Alice Grishom?”
Hannah gasped. “Mrs. Grishom? Yes! She was a nurse. She took care of my brother, Danny, after his ‘accident’.”
Her Mate’s eyes flashed. “She works for the Fangs of Apophis. She nearly killed me with a poisoned blade.”
Instantly, Michael became alert. The Fangs were their arch-enemies, a cabal of vile Shifters who enslaved the ‘lesser’ Kinds. They had humans in their crosshairs, too, and dreamed of amassing enough power to secretly dominate the world.
“She escaped me,” Lorde admitted. “I wondered, at the time, why she did not tell the Fangs about the Wellspring’s location. I hoped that the silence meant her master never told her why she was here.”
“Maybe it took her a while to figure it out.” Walker started to spit, then remembered where he was and thought better of it. “Or maybe she just waited fer the price to go up. Dunno. What I do know is, she told ‘em now. They know where you’re at.”
Silence fell on the room. Only Hannah seemed shocked, however.
Lorde patted his wife’s hand. “I’m sorry, but we knew this day would come. We’ve hidden your family’s farm for two years. That’s better than I dared to hope.”
“And now?”
“Now, we protect this place. That is, after all, what Dragons are meant to do.”
The pieces of his Alpha’s plans were clear for Michael. “They probably won’t attack directly, but you summoned us here in case they do.” Lorde nodded. “Treachery, or an indirect attack, are far more likely. Now I see why you kept the Rat,” he admitted with a grudging smile.
“Uh, I ain’t ‘kept’ by nobody,” Walker protested. “I’m here for him.” He jerked a thumb at Jackson as his nose began to twitch fiercely. “He done right by me ‘n’ mine and I aim to repay him. But I don’t know you lot.”
Deep within Michael, his Dragon’s anger stirred. How dare this creature, this Rat, contradict him? “We ‘lot’, as you call us, are the First Flight. The most powerful band of Shifters in the world.”
Power rose within him and he let it wash freely across his body. Red fire burned in his green eyes and razor-sharp claws sprouted from his fingertips. �
��This place is sacred, the beating heart of Earth. You should be honored that you are allowed to aid in its defense!”
The Rat said nothing. Merely stuffed his hands in his pockets and stared sidelong at the wall.
“I expect you to give us your full assistance and to perform any tasks you are assigned. Do you understand?”
“Yep.”
“Good.” Michael scowled at him a moment longer, watching for any sign of rebellion. But the Rat hung his head meekly, chastised. His Dragon settled once more. Claws and fire slowly vanished, then he turned to his Alpha. “I assume you have contingency plans for this?”
“I do. First, we’re evacuating all non-Shifters to Jackson’s place in California.”
“But…,” Hannah protested.
“No.” Firmly but gently, Lorde silenced her. “We can’t risk the children and your parents. And if I had to split my attention between you and the Wellspring, it could mean disaster.”
“We can’t just walk away from the farm! We have animals!”
“Which will be tended by a den of Bears who’ve agreed to come from Ohio. They’re on their way now. And Finn is, at this very moment, helping your father ready the farm for your departure.”
Ah, so that was what their missing brother was up to. Michael felt a grudging respect for his Alpha. The man could juggle a dozen different tasks at once and make it look effortless.
“I will call upon other Shifters who owe us favors. I expect many would be willing to help us.”
They shouldn’t have to ask. Once upon a time, Shifters recognized the nobility of Dragons and served when called upon. It galled Michael that his Kind had fallen to begging for aid. “Information is going to be our biggest need. Hopefully, this Rat,” he gestured at Walker, “will−”
The door was empty.
“Where the hell is that Rat?” Michael snarled.
Jackson squinted at the hall. “I’d guess he’s about five miles down the road right now. He took off the minute you turned your back.”
