Shifters Escape

by Selina Woods

  I kissed her, then bent to pick up her jeans to give her, then pulled my own up. Holding her cheeks in my hands, I gazed into her eyes. “Did I show you?”

  Jae giggled, kissing me. “You sure did. And I love you, too.”

  “Good. Now, we better get these crates unpacked. Morgan may be showing up at any time to drag me away.”

  Morgan did, less than ten minutes later. His fist pounded on the rear door, and he yelled, “Declan! I know you’re in there. Open up.”

  Jae laughed. “We timed that perfectly.”

  I opened the door for him, barely standing aside in time before he barged in, his face dark and furious. “You little shit,” he growled, seizing me by my shirt front. “You doped me.”

  “And your face looks much better for it,” I replied, unafraid of his anger. “How’s the pain?”

  “Never mind. I should rip your face off.”

  “And violate your precious oath?”

  Swearing, he shoved me from him, throwing me to the floor. In retaliation, Jae roared in fury and her lioness charged him from the side. Her weight knocked him flat. Jae’s bared fangs, inches from his face, dripped saliva. “Touch him again and you’re dead.”

  I sat up, unharmed, and grinned at Morgan’s predicament. “Look at the big, bad lion now,” I said with a smirk. “Mess with me, and you answer to her.”

  Morgan heaved a huge sigh. “Sorry, Jae. That little runt just pisses me off.”

  Jae slid her lips down over her very sharp armament and licked his wounded cheek, her thick raspy tongue making him cry out in pain. “Call him a runt again, and you’ll have a matching set of scars, dickhead. Declan has more guts and brains than you’ll ever hope to have.”

  While he could have switched forms and fought with her, and possibly even won such a bout, Morgan pushed against her chest with a grin. “I defer to your greater wisdom and strength, dear lady. And I sincerely apologize.”

  “Good.” Jae stood back from him, then switched back into her human self. “You’re supposed to be protecting him, not shoving him around.”

  “I know. Declan, we should get out of here. We’re putting Jae in danger.”

  I stood up, dusting off the seat of my jeans. “I don’t want her alone, Morgan. We can wait until Chad gets here.”

  At least he saw the sense in that, and stood near the front window, on guard duty while Jae and I unloaded the crates and boxes, stacking the bottles on shelves and the kegs on top of one another. “The wolf, Porter, found a plow that will run,” I told her as we worked. “Now we have to get the supplies together and decide when we’re gonna make our departure.”

  “We have to get word to Chelsea, too,” Jae reminded me. “We aren’t leaving her behind.”

  “I haven’t forgotten.”

  “Chad told me Porter has a big family he insists on bringing with us. Do you have friends you want to have escape with us?”

  “The only one I have is you, Jae,” I told her quietly.

  Pausing in her work, she gazed at me, sadness in her eyes. “You never made any friends out there?”

  “None that I ever trusted. Folks tended to avoid street urchins like myself, and any kids I might have grown to trust were killed.”

  “That is just wrong,” she snapped, her anger flaring. “We, as a society, should be better than that.”

  “That’s why we’re getting out of here,” I replied with a smile. “So maybe we can have a better world to raise our kids in.”

  Jae hurried across the room and hugged me. “I can’t wait for us to get to Denver, find your mom, be mated.”

  “If she’s really there,” I answered, holding her close.

  The door rattled as someone used a key in the lock and the door swung wide. Chad gaped for a moment, observing us wrapped around each other, then he shook his head, shutting the door again. “I should have known I couldn’t keep you two apart.”

  “You shouldn’t even try,” Jae said with a sniff. “We’re going to be mated once we get to Denver.”

  “Let’s get there before we start making plans,” he commented dryly as Morgan stood in the doorway that led to the bar. “Can you boys be back just after closing?”

  Morgan nodded. “Sure. Time to finalize our plans?”

  “Yeah. At least make some tentative ones. Porter will be here as well, and he wants to bring a few friends.”

  “The more, the merrier,” I said with a grin. I kissed Jae. “See you later.”

  After giving me a final squeeze, Jae let me go. She eyed Morgan, who ambled across the room toward the door. “Look after him. And quit calling him a runt.”

  Morgan bowed in her direction, then opened the door. “Let’s go, kid.”

  With a wink, I followed him out and heard the lock engage behind us. “Where are we going?”

  “I want to have another look at that house Raphael stores those caches in. I’m not understanding why he doesn’t have guards on it. Nor do I want any surprises when we raid the place.”

  The sun in the cloudless blue sky warmed the afternoon to the point it felt almost pleasant to be outside. We strolled down the sidewalk, as did many other people of all species, cars and trucks driving past on the road. The few enforcers we saw paid us no mind, nor did they seem to be tax collecting for Raphael’s overflowing coffers.

  “This is making me nervous,” Morgan muttered. “Are they busy looking for you?”

  “Since they found Barry,” I replied, my tone low, my eyes scanning the people all around us, “they must be. No, I still don’t believe I left anything on his corpse, so don’t say it.”

  Morgan eyed me with humor. “I don’t believe in coincidences.”

  “Yeah, yeah.”

  We walked on with purpose as though we had an appointment with Raphael himself, and as far as I could tell, none of his goons seemed aware their target wandered within sight of them. “I think we should get off the main drag,” I murmured, my head low.

  “Yeah. We should.”

  “Next block, we go into the alley.”

  I had no sooner breathed easier out of sight of the goons when a car roared from the street behind us. “Run!” I bellowed and switched to four legs.

  Chapter Thirteen

  With Morgan at my side, we raced down the alley, the car kissing our tails. Jacking a hard left, we forced the car to skid sideways as the driver spun the wheel to follow us, and succeeded in slamming the rear end of the vehicle into the wall of the solid brick building. Howls of rage ensued as the crunched metal blew the right rear tire, and the car stalled.

  I glanced back with a laugh. “Need help changing the tire, boys?” I called.

  The driver and the passenger got out, then also changed forms to chase us on foot. While I could have lost them rather quickly, I kept my pace the same as Morgan’s. We both ran flat out, dodging rubble and dumpsters, often changing directions to ran down other alleys in an effort to lose them.

  “Any ideas, kid?’ Morgan asked, risking a quick glance behind us. “They’re still there.”

  “I’m working on it.”

  Morgan was fast for his size; I’ll give him that. Even so, we couldn’t escape our pursuers, nor could they catch up. I plotted and rejected plan after plan, knowing they might work for me alone, they couldn’t include Morgan. I found no handy fence that we both could duck under that the goons would never fit through. Anything we both did; they could do just as easily.

  I sensed Morgan growing tired. A swift glance behind revealed the other lions weakening as well, but if they didn’t give up soon, Morgan and I were both for the worms. I turned my head back in time to find Morgan skidding to a dismayed halt, our escape stopped by a solid wall.

  At the junction of buildings, the alley ended. It did, however, have a very narrow space running between it and the two to either side of us. I could fit easily, but Morgan, much less our pursuers, could not.

  “Go,” he gasped. “I’ll cover your escape.”

  “No way,”
I spat, spinning around to face the charging goons.

  “Kid,” he began, but he didn’t finish what he was going to say.

  The lions attacked with full force; their aim clear: take Morgan out. They all but ignored me as not even worth noticing, and there was no way in hell I was going to leave him to be slaughtered. He fought hard, slashing at them with fangs and claws, driving them back with a ferocity that outmatched theirs. Leaping aboard one enforcer’s back, I tried biting deep through his thick, protective mane and sever his spinal cord. He threw me off as easily as he might a bug and concentrated again on Morgan.

  “That’s your big mistake,” I snarled.

  Changing into my human, I yanked the long knife from its sheath and jumped aboard him again. This time I hung on with my legs, like an ancient rodeo rider on a bull. He spun in circles, trying to bite into my legs and jerk me off his back, but with my left hand fisted into his mane, my heels digging into his ribs, where he went, I went.

  I was little, but I was strong. I raised the blade, aiming for his skull, gritting my teeth for maximum effort. Then I plunged the long knife deep into his brain. The sharp edges, with all my strength behind it, parted the bone of his head like butter. The goon collapsed onto his chest and belly, his paws twitching spasmodically as though still trying to fight.

  Morgan and the other lion still fought on, raking one another with deadly fangs and claws, ripping each other apart. Planting my boot on the lion’s head, I jerked my knife from his skull, and studied the two of them battle, watching for an opening. Morgan wasn’t looking too good from my point of view, and I knew I needed to lend him a hand somehow.

  At last, the enforcer got Morgan down on his back, his jaws burrowed in Morgan’s mane, chewing his way down to his throat. Morgan’s claws dug deep gouges in the goon’s chest and belly, but it didn’t seem to faze his enemy. Acting fast, I lunged forward to the other lion’s side, my long knife ready.

  With a hoarse cry, I plunged the blade to the hilt into the lion’s ribs. Withdrawing fast, I shoved it back in, three or four times, in rapid succession. Blood spurted from the wounds, coating me, my arm, my knife. Unable to breathe through his now punctured lung, and hopefully sliced heart, the goon staggered, faltering.

  Rising, Morgan shoved him away, seeing as I did that death stood in the enforcer’s eyes, his gaping jaws. Both of us panting, we coldly watched as the goon, dying, collapsed on his side. Bright red blood oozed from his mouth and pooled on the ground. Morgan glanced at me, then at the knife in my hand.

  “Kid,” he gasped, “you are chock full of surprises.”

  I wiped the knife clean of gore on the lion’s mane just as he expired. Returning it to my boot, I looked us both over, discovering that any goon on the street would peg us for this. “Do we need Chelsea again?”

  Morgan shook himself, blood droplets flying off his body. “No. I’m just scratched and bit up, nothing serious. But he had me. I’d be dead if it weren’t for you.”

  I merely nodded briefly, then went lion again. “We have to get cleaned up if we don’t want to attract attention.”

  “Any ideas?”

  We had run so hard and fast; I wasn’t even sure where we were. “Let me get my bearings. I have to look at the street.”

  Loping back down the alley, I peered cautiously around the corner. We had run to the southern part of the town, not that far from the old truck stop. “There’s a place we can clean up,” I told him, creeping along the street to the next alley. “Water is cold, though.”

  “It’ll have to do.”

  Keeping out of sight as much as possible, I led him the few miles to the dilapidated truck stop without too many eyes spotting us. At least, none of them were Raphael’s enforcers, for no one tried to stop us. The sun would soon set when we reached the place, both of us hurrying inside and out of sight. “It’ll be easier with darkness to cover us,” I commented as we both used the icy showers to clean the blood from us.

  “Damn, this is cold.” Morgan’s teeth chattered as he scrubbed his wounds, the blood flowing away down the drain.

  “Hope you’re taking the antibiotics Chelsea left for you.”

  “Yeah. I am.”

  His injuries didn’t look too terrible, in my opinion, as he dressed himself back in his tattered and bloody clothes. I had cleaned myself and my coat without soaking either one. Going lion, we both slipped out of the truck stop, heading in the near darkness toward Raphael’s neighborhood.

  “Where’d you get that knife?” he asked, loping at my side.

  “That house you stuck me in.”

  He laughed. “Look what all that bitching and moaning got you.”

  “I know, right?”

  “Sometimes things do work out for the best.”

  Once again, we crouched on the rooftop overlooking Raphael’s mansion a safe two blocks away as the big man’s enforcers patrolled. “This makes no sense,” Morgan griped, staring down over the edge.

  “It makes sense to Raphael,” I replied, glancing around to make sure the roof was as unguarded as we thought it was.

  “Pride and arrogance can really bring one down in a horrible way. Let’s go to the cache house.”

  “Are we going in there?” I asked, following him across the roof next door.

  “I’m not sure yet,” he replied. “You went in once through the coal chute, but why are such valuable things not guarded? I mean, if he spent loads of time collecting all that shit, why wouldn’t he guard it?”

  “I have two thoughts on that,” I answered, leaping across to yet another roof and loping toward the next. “One, guarding a structure means there’s something of value inside.”

  “Okay, right. He doesn’t want to attract attention. What’s the second?”

  “What if it doesn’t need guards?”

  About to break into a run in order to leap the alley, Morgan stopped and swung back to me. “How do you mean?”

  “We found the doors and windows locked, right?”

  “Yeah.”

  “What if they’re rigged to explode or something? He never did anything with the coal chute since how many folks can actually go down it.”

  “I hate to think you’re right,” he commented dryly, turning to make his run, then leaped across the space between the buildings.

  I followed suit, then asked, “What do you mean?”

  “I mean that if you’re right, and if we had tried to force a window or door, we could have blown ourselves to kingdom come.”

  “Or, more likely, set off an alarm that could be heard only in Raphael’s house.”

  “That, too.”

  “It makes senses he’s not wasting guards on a house that’s rigged with alarms.”

  “And I want to know now, so we have no surprises later.”

  The absence of guards didn’t mean we didn’t need caution. Moving like the shadows themselves, we crept silently to the big house. Morgan kept us back from it, both of us checking it out from a short distance away. “I don’t see or hear anything,” he muttered.

  “Me either.”

  Hustling to the deep darkness to the back of the house, Morgan closely inspected a window from top to bottom and every side and angle. “I don’t see—wait. What does that look like?”

  I peered closer at what he indicated. “Silver wire.”

  “Yeah. So, it is rigged with an alarm system. So how do we break it without setting it off?”

  “You’re asking me?”

  “Yeah, Mr. Brains of This Outfit.”

  “I know how to escape thugs bigger than me. That doesn’t make me a world-class thief.”

  “Maybe it should. Take a look; maybe you can see something I’m not.”

  So, I studied the wires snaking around the inside of the window, and I think I understood how it worked. “Hang on,” I told him quickly. “Stay right here; I’m going in.”

  “What? Wait.”

  Ignoring him, I trotted to the coal chute, shifted into my human, and
slid down inside. As before, I entered the basement, then hustled up into the kitchen and then to the window Morgan stood outside of, peering in. Flicking my lighter for a bit of light, I searched the wires again. This time I found a connection that led to the rest of the windows and doors.

  Morgan tapped on the glass impatiently, not daring to raise his voice for fear of bringing the wrath of Raphael down on us. Ignoring him yet again, I studied the contraption, thinking that if the wires were broken, that set the alarm off. But what might happen if I wrapped the connection with something that would interrupt the current without setting off the alarm?

  Heading back into the kitchen, I searched it for anything that might interrupt an electrical impulse. Whoever created this alarm system left behind wiring, clips, electrical tape, and meters. Taking the clips, wires, and the meter back with me, I quickly attached the wires to the clips and then the wires to each nodule on the meter.

  I, holding my breath, attached the clips to either side of the connection, then switched the meter to off. I hid everything behind a curtain, then headed back to the kitchen to find a set of wire cutters. Listening for any sound that what I had done set the alarm off, I found a cutting tool, then cut the wires around the window. Unlocking it, I slid it up and dropped out to land at Morgan’s feet.

  “Anything?” I asked.

  “I haven’t heard squat,” Morgan replied as I shut the window again. “What did you do?”

  “Let’s hide, keep an eye out for a little while. Then I’ll explain.”

  By the time we reached the rooftop again, I knew I had been successful. Had I set the alarm off; Raphael’s goons would surely have been there by now. The night stayed quiet and cold, the moon riding high above us in the inky black sky.

  “I interrupted the electrical current,” I explained. “I found the tools left by whoever put that alarm in for Raphael.”

  “Awesome. But when we come back, we need to use only that window, correct?”