by Keri Arthur
I unclipped one of the guns and held it by my side. I doubted it would have the power to cause much damage to any of the vehicles I’d seen on the cliff top, but short of running me down, they couldn't actually harm me, as none of them had been armed.
A small oversight I was fervently grateful for.
Then the engine noise stopped. I paused, listening. There was no indication that anyone was coming after me—no bouncing rocks or crunch of leaf matter to indicate we were being chased on foot.
And yet they were coming.
Fast.
Shifters, an inner part of me whispered. I closed my eyes and hoped it wasn't true. Or that the shifters belonged to one of the groups who still lived in these mountains rather than from those who pursued us.
But it wasn’t like I dared hang around and uncover the answer.
I called to the shadows, let them wrap around me, then raced on upwards, taking the most direct route rather than following the tangled, meandering road.
Just as I hit the ridge, I felt the unraveling begin. I quickly called to flesh and fell, twisting as I did so that it was my back that took the force of it rather than Raela. Déchet were made with very strong bones but we were not unbreakable. And break I did—the snap was loud, and seemed to echo across the night.
But for several rather terrifying seconds, there was no pain—absolutely nothing—and the fear that I’d broken my back surged. I moved my neck, my arms, my right leg... but the moment I tried to move my left, the pain hit, and so fiercely I had to bite my lip against a scream.
I wrapped a hand around Raela to ensure I didn't squash her, and somehow found the strength to push upright. And discovered that I'd broken both my tibia and fibula—a nasty break at the best of times, and certainly not one I could recover from in a matter of minutes.
Which was all I had left.
I tried to ignore the throbbing, heated agony that threatened to consume me, and looked around. I'd been fairly lucky when I'd fallen—three feet in either direction and I would have landed on top of a range of wickedly pointed rocks. Those same rocks formed a semicircle-shaped cave behind me, and were probably my best—and really, only—place to make some sort of stand. If I could reach them, that was.
I unclipped my knife, cut a small section from a nearby tree root, and shoved it into my mouth. I needed something to bite down on—something that would smother the screams, if only a little.
And scream I did. Moving was agony itself. My body went hot, and then cold, and sweat slicked every bit of skin and made gripping the rocks and pulling myself backward even harder. The blackness of unconsciousness loomed large and it was tempting—so very tempting—to give in to the serenity it offered. But the minute I did, any hope of freedom—of a future for Raela—was gone.
Somehow, I reached that cave. But I was a quivering, sweating, stinking mess, with little strength to do anything more than lean back and close my eyes.
They were near.
I couldn't hear them, but I could feel them.
And I could do nothing. Nothing more than grip my weapons and hope I had both the strength and time to use them.
They were not going to take me alive.
They were not going to take Raela back to her prison.
If nothing else, I would ensure that.
I waited.
Closer and closer they came, a wave of determination and anger that burned my skin and made breathing even more difficult.
Sound scraped across the night—a rock, bouncing lightly across the ground only ten feet away from the entrance of my small cave.
I opened my eyes and raised the guns.
For several heartbeats, nothing happened. They were out there—I could smell them now. There was six of them, and they tainted the air with the thick need to kill.
But they didn’t. Not immediately. Maybe they were waiting for someone, or maybe they were simply being cautious. After all, they had no idea what weapons I might yet have with me.
A tremor ran through my arms, but I locked them in place and kept my fingers pressed against the triggers.
A footstep. Just one, and then nothing.
The tension within me was becoming so bad I could barely breathe, and part of me just wanted to scream at them, to make them attack and get it all over with.
But I’d never been one to give up, and I wasn’t about to now. I kept the guns raised and my mouth shut.
Stone scraped lightly against stone—not from in front, but rather above. Someone was crawling across the roof, making their way toward the entrance. I scanned the ceiling, but there were no breaks or fissures he could see through, and no way to appraise the situation other than dropping down into the cave’s entrance.
More movement, this time from both the left and the right of the cave’s entrance. They had me surrounded. Time had just run out.
I closed my eyes and contemplated doing the unthinkable. But until there was absolutely no other choice, I would not go down that path.
They didn’t attack.
They didn’t get the chance.
Energy spun around me, energy that was warm, familiar, and filled with a mix of both happiness to see me and concern at my state.
Against all the odds, Cat and Bear had not only heard my call but had brought help in the form of the Broken Mountain shifters.
Relief flooded through me, washing away the last of my resistance and strength.
As the sound of gunfire broke the silence, I asked my two little ghosts to protect Raela, and then finally slipped into the welcoming arms of unconsciousness.
Chapter Four
It was the steady sound of beeping that broke through the layers of darkness and dragged me back to consciousness. I didn’t immediately open my eyes; I wanted to assess the situation before I gave any indication I was awake.
Both the softness of the bed that all but enveloped me and that steady electronic beeping indicated I was lying in a medibed. All trace of pain had fled, but whether that was because I was heavily sedated or because all my wounds had healed, I couldn’t say. IVs had certainly been inserted into my arm, but I didn’t in any way feel hazy or languid. Not that that meant anything, as I’d discovered in Winter Halo that modern drugs could affect me, and they’d surely invented better drugs than the ones my old medibeds still used. I twitched my fingers and toes, and then shifted my leg slightly. No pain, full response. The relief that swept me was almost ridiculous given my body had healed wounds far worse than a shattered leg before. Hell, I’d survived the chemical meltdown of almost my entire being.
But this was the first time since then that healing actually mattered. Not just for me, not just for Raela and my little ghosts, but for our entire world.
What I couldn’t hear was the beeping of a second medibed, and that suggested I was the lone patient in this room. I also couldn’t sense the presence of my two ghosts, and concern instantly surged—until I remembered my last-minute request to protect Raela. They were obviously still with her.
We are, Bear said. She is safe. So are you.
And Jonas? But even as I asked that question, the familiar scent of cat, wind, and evening rain warmed the otherwise sterile air, and I couldn’t help the smile that touched my lips.
He wasn’t only here—wherever “here” actually was—but in the room, sitting beside the bed.
Despite my desperate request for my ghosts to send help, I hadn’t been entirely sure he’d answer. The Broken Mountains were a good distance from Central City, and while he did have kin here—both children and grandchildren—I’d gotten the impression he tended to avoid the place these days.
Besides, he and I were in a rather strange situation. We were situational allies who’d stepped past old enmity to become something more. We weren’t really friends, and certainly weren’t lovers, but there was definitely a spark—an attraction I’d not felt with anyone else ever before—happening between us.
And it was far more than just the instinctive reaction of a lure who’d been b
red to seduce shifters such as him. How much more was something we’d agreed to explore after we’d caught Dream and put an end to the trio’s immunity madness.
And it was an exploration I was looking forward to.
He’s been rather grouchy, Cat said. We’ve avoided both him and his questions.
Which probably made him even grouchier. He was well aware of my deep connection with both Cat and Bear, and I had no doubt his irritation would have stemmed from them thwarting his attempts to gain information. No matter what might be happening between us personally, Jonas was first and foremost a soldier—and in times past, had in fact been a general. And like most good leaders, he was of the belief that while the life of every scout did matter, information retrieval had to be the first and foremost priority.
It was rather odd, though, that he simply hadn’t ferreted the information out of my mind himself. While neither of us was telepathic, the rift that had caught the two of us appeared to have mashed my talent to hear the ghosts with his rift-given ability to mind speak with Nuri, and created a somewhat fragile connection between the two of us. It was a connection that had oddly strengthened in the days after he’d saved my life at Winter Halo, and one that—rather frustratingly—seemed to be stronger on his side than mine. But then, I guess he did have an advantage—he’d been communicating with Nuri that way for decades.
I opened my eyes.
Jonas immediately lowered his feet from the edge of the medibed and leaned forward. “How are you feeling?”
My smile grew. “A lot better than I look, if your expression is anything to go by.”
An answering smile tugged at his lips and it gave his weatherworn features a warmth that was decidedly attractive. He was a lean and powerful man with mottled black hair—the only sign of the panther he could become—and vivid green eyes. But the three scars that ran from his right temple to just behind his ear and signified his former rank as a ranger—a feared group of soldiers back in the war who were still formidable frontline peacekeepers—seemed to be more visible than usual, and there were shadows under his eyes.
“That’s because you almost died, Tiger, even with the transfusion—”
“Transfusion?” I frowned. “Does that mean I’m back in Central rather than in the Broken Mountains?”
While the medical facilities in the room were certainly more modern than anything I had in my bunker, I wouldn’t have said they were state of the art, which was what I’d have expected if we were back in Central.
He raised an eyebrow, his amusement increasing. “Just because the Broken Mountains shifters still lead a nomadic life doesn’t mean they go without modern conveniences or trappings. And given your history with them, you should be well aware of that.”
There was no rancor in his voice when he mentioned my past, which was so vastly different from our initial conversations that—despite our agreement to move past old prejudices and hatred—I still found it surprising. But then, I was just as guilty as he when it came to judging people based on history rather than current actions and words.
“How long have I been unconscious?”
“Two days, which is not long enough by half, according to Tala, the head medic here.” He half shrugged. “I told her the same lie you told us initially—that you were half shifter and had inherited the ability to heal without having to attain cat form.”
I frowned. “She would have known the lie the minute she did blood tests.”
“Except that she didn’t do them. I forbade it, as it would have been too much of a risk.”
Because of what I was. Because there were still those in these mountains who remembered the war, and who held great hatred for déchet.
“Yes and no,” Jonas said, obviously catching my thoughts. “I didn’t fear either the blood or DNA tests in and of themselves, as they wouldn’t have revealed anything specifically worrying—”
“But I’ve tiger and vampire—”
“Yes, but so have I, thanks to that rift mixing together our DNA,” he said. “But that bastard at Winter Halo did take blood samples from you, and it’s more than possible Dream now has them.”
“But surely she can’t have people up here. I mean, you trust your own kin, don’t you?”
“Again, yes, but my kin are a minority amongst the clans here. There is no telling how far her canker might have spread.”
And being cautious never hurt—I’d learned that long ago. “So where did the blood come from?”
“Me—I’m also O positive.” The amusement touching his lips reached up to crease the corners of his bright eyes. “Chalk it up as returning a favor, given how many times you’ve pulled my butt out of the fire.”
“I think that score is more than even.” I paused. “What about Raela? Have any suspicions been raised over her presence?”
“Everyone’s presumed she’s yours, and I’ve not said otherwise.” He motioned at the wall to my right. “She’s in the next room, and under the very watchful eye of your two young ghosts. It was all I could do to convince them to let Tala give her sustenance.”
“Have any tests been run on her?” Because if there had been, all sorts of red flags would have been raised.
“No, though it was certainly an order Tala fought.” He paused, his gaze narrowing. “What happened to you in that place? And where did you find the child? Were they using her for drug experimental purposes?”
“Yes.” I hesitated, and then told him the whole story. What I’d seen, and what I’d done. To the base, and to the rest of those children.
He reached out and placed his hand over mine. It was such a simple touch, and yet it was one that said he knew. That he understood.
“You couldn’t have done anything else for them,” he said softly.
“I know. Just as I know Raela was the only one who had a chance.” I squeezed his fingers and then gently pulled my hand from his. “That doesn’t help the bitterness of a promise broken.”
“It should, given you were fulfilling a promise to that child’s ghost.” He frowned. “Raela is a shifter name, yet I sense no shifter in her.”
My smile held little in the way of amusement “That’s because she’s human, not shifter. I gave her the name, not the scientists.”
He studied me for several heartbeats, his expression giving little away. Eventually, he said, “You cannot raise her.”
“I can and I will.”
“She was given wraith blood. She has to be monitored—”
“She’s a child, Jonas. A baby.” I balled my fists into the light sheet that was covering me, fighting to remain calm. “I’ll not allow her to be raised in a sterile environment, being prodded, poked, and examined every single day of her existence. I saw what it did to my little ones—”
“Your ghosts are remarkably well-adjusted for beings who were created and raised in such conditions. I don’t—”
“They’re well-adjusted because I was able to give them at least some affection and caring!” I exploded. “And because they’ve spent the last century with me.”
“Yes, but—”
“There is no ‘but’ in this. There is no negotiation.” I took a deep breath and tried to calm down. “She’s both a seeker and a witch. I can help her control the former, and Nuri can help with the latter. But I can tell you now, the worst thing anyone could ever do is put that child into a military situation.”
“Is that your psychic instinct speaking?” he asked, voice flat. “Or the maternal one that has driven your actions ever since your failure to save the children in your bunker?”
I opened my mouth to say it was my seeker self, and then saw the compassion in his eyes. If there was anyone who could understand, it would be him. Thanks to the fact he could now converse with my ghosts, he not only knew the full horror of how they’d been killed, but had also glimpsed the cold aloneness they’d felt whenever I’d been assigned another mission.
“To be honest, it’s both.” I paused and scraped a hand through my short h
air. Someone must have washed it, because it felt decidedly clean. “Have you told Nuri about her?”
“She knows you came out of that place with a child, but that’s it.”
“Then don’t tell her the rest of it—”
“The child has wraith blood in her,” he cut in. “I know where you’re coming from, and I do understand, but you cannot expect—”
“Your niece has vampire blood and Rhea only knows what other pathogens in her system,” I cut in. “And yet you fought Nuri tooth and nail to keep her with you in Chaos because you believed it was the only way to save her.”
“That is different—”
“How is different, Jonas? Because she’s kin?” I waved a hand toward the wall that separated Raela and me. “There is a connection between that child and me that is every bit as strong as blood.”
He studied me for a second, his expression troubled. “I still don’t think—”
“Bring her in here,” I said flatly.
He blinked. “Why?”
“Because I want you to see—to understand—why I can’t let anyone else raise her.”
He frowned, but nevertheless pushed from the chair and walked out of the room. I listened to the soft echo of his footsteps and, after a few minutes, heard the soft hum of a motor kick into gear.
Cat and Bear rushed into the room and spun around me, their energy and happiness flooding my mind and making me smile.
I like the little one, Cat said. She’s funny.
Though I had no idea why, the rift that had hit Jonas and me had not only given him the ability to hear my ghosts, but me the ability to converse with them directly rather than via touch. It not only made our conversations a lot easier but also a whole lot less taxing on their strength. I raised my eyebrows. She can talk to you?
Well no, Bear said. She makes lots of funny sounds and tries to catch our energy.
She tried to catch the sunshine too, I said with a smile.
She likes the light, Bear said. She cried when they dimmed them.
I wondered if that was due to a fear of darkness, or something else. I guess none of us would know that until she was able to speak.
