Lion Shifter

by Lucia Ashta

  “Sadie fights like a shifter, but she uses magic instead of animal powers. She’s fierce and unpredictable, which means you won’t see her coming unless you stay sharp.”

  Sadie, sans blades, walked out onto the grouping of four large padded mats. She swung her arms behind her a few times and cracked her neck, back, and knuckles.

  “Shit,” I said. “This makes me nervous.”

  “I’m trying to decide who will win, and I can’t,” Jas said, sounding as excited as Dave, who was so jittery he could barely stand still.

  “I know. They seem so evenly matched,” he said, “though Sadie is a bit taller than Marcy June.”

  “Everyone’s taller than Marcy June,” Wren said, flashing a grimace at Jas. “Sorry, I forgot about you.”

  Jas was about as tall as Marcy June, and equally petite. But size did nothing to determine ferocity in either case. Jas growled and narrowed her eyes at Wren, but she was too excited to really be mad. Her eyes danced as she pinned them on the two women.

  Marcy June inched closer to Sadie, her attention on her now and no longer her audience. “I’m not going to bother with rules and warnings,” she called out, starting to circle Sadie on the mat. “Sadie and I’ve done this many times, though it’s been a long while, hasn’t it?”

  Sadie growled a response, sounding exactly like a feisty shifter. If I hadn’t seen her orange magic myself, I would have struggled to believe she wasn’t about to turn into some kind of animal.

  “Egan?” Marcy June called out, but her gaze was already latched onto Sadie’s. “Will you call the match, for old times’ sake?”

  In unison, the crowd shifted to take in the centaur with wings—a pegataur? I had no idea what they might be called. I didn’t even realize they existed. I had to get a move-on reading through Dad’s Compendium.

  I thought Egan might have bristled under all the attention, but he didn’t do or say anything to make me sure of it. His hooves clopped across hardwood planks as he edged the mats that all but covered the floor. His upper body was that of a man, his lower body that of a horse with wings. His chestnut hair matched his coat, though his tail was shiny, ebony black that swished with each step he took.

  When Egan reached the two women, he waved a hand toward them and they approached. Whatever he said, I couldn’t make it out, and in two minutes Marcy June and Sadie were back on the mats and the giant pegataur was backing up to give them room.

  “Who do you think will win?” Dave asked. “I’m betting on Sadie. She’s a badass.”

  “Hmm,” Jas said. “Marcy June is pretty freaking intense herself. I mean, just look at her.”

  Marcy June’s teeth were bared and her fingers were arched like claws, though she remained in human form. She hunched over like a beast, circling Sadie, whose eyes darted all across her.

  Marcy June lunged at Sadie, and Wren and I shrieked. We weren’t the only ones, but I still flushed with embarrassment. “Shit. I thought Egan was going to announce the start of the match...” I trailed off. No one was paying attention to what I was saying, not even me.

  Halfway through her attack, Marcy June transformed into an average-sized coyote, which was to say she possessed the size and demeanor of a wily, underfed street dog. If she blurred, vibrated, and flickered, it’d been too quick for me to notice.

  But Sadie was ready for her. When Marcy June dove at her leg, sharp teeth bared to bite, Sadie flung a wall of orange light straight at her, slamming into the coyote and throwing her back. The coyote tumbled and rocketed back to her paws while Sadie was busy gathering more orange magic between her open palms.

  The coyote lunged at her calves again, impossibly fast. Sadie jumped as she twisted out of the way, and blasted a ray of orange straight at the coyote’s butt. The coyote jumped like her tail was on fire, but instead of whimpering and cowering, the animal pivoted on quick paws and lunged again. This time the coyote’s jaws latched onto Sadie’s leg, tearing through her jeans.

  Sadie cried out and kicked the coyote free. The coyote sailed through the air in a squealing snarl. Marcy June landed on her side with a dull thump. Sadie was already stalking toward her, ignoring the red that was soaking through the bottom of her pant leg.

  Melinda, the healer, and Nancy, the main staff witch, entered through the doors at a run, Fianna and Nessa zooming over their heads. The badger and witch brought their hands to their thighs as they bent over catching their breath, their attention going straight to the fighters I imagined they were there to assist.

  The coyote was back on her feet, teeth bared in a low growl, when Sadie flung an orange beam at her. The coyote jumped out of the way and sprinted toward Sadie, who got off another orange ray, aimed straight at the animal’s chest. Marcy June flattened herself to the ground, the beam whizzed across her fur, singeing it, and flew past her.

  Startled students dove out of the way as orange light slammed into the brick wall behind them with a thunderous boom. Brick cracked and crumbled, shooting shards in every direction.

  Sadie brought her hands to her chest, flattened them there, and when she flipped them back around to face Marcy June, they glowed like the sun. But the coyote flung herself at Sadie’s injured calf before the witch could release her magic.

  I gasped, and Wren huddled closer. Adalia, always thoughtful, moved to my other side and pressed into me, allowing us to suffer through this together.

  It wasn’t like Sadie and Marcy June were my favorite people, but it wasn’t like I didn’t like them either; I liked them just fine. I might’ve even admired them and their don’t-give-a-shit-what-anyone-thinks attitudes. They were ferocious in a world that had made them that way; they’d found the way to survive in a cutthroat supernatural community that rewarded strength. Both were average to small women, and yet they fought with a fierceness often reserved for men, or those far larger than them. I didn’t want either of them to get hurt.

  The coyote shook Sadie’s calf in her mouth. Sadie reached down with both hands and wrenched the animal’s jaws wide open. Sadie’s hands bled freely when she threw Marcy June across the room.

  The audience held its breath. If everyone else was like me, I couldn’t breathe.

  The coyote landed with a heavy thud on the edge of the mat and didn’t pop right back up. When she did rise, she limped her way back over to Sadie, who held what looked like a fireball between both hands. The Enforcer’s eyes were narrowed, her mouth a thin, grim line.

  The coyote ran at her in a jagged line. Sadie fired and missed, burning a smoking hole in one of the mats. She aimed and fired again. This time, the animal’s coat caught on fire.

  Marcy June stopped, dropped, and rolled, and then kept coming at Sadie, full speed. She launched and slammed into Sadie squarely in the chest. The witch stumbled, swung her arms wide as if enclosing the coyote in her magic, and then pressed her palms against the snarling creature’s body. When Sadie moved her hands forward, the coyote moved with them, suspended in the middle of a bubble of orange, fiery magic.

  The coyote snarled and bit at the orange glow, trying to tear through it, without success. Sweat dripped down Sadie’s temple as she fought to maintain her magic against the force of the coyote’s resistance. Her hands began to tremble slightly while the coyote thrashed to break free.

  I sucked in a ragged breath, trying to calm myself, reminding myself to breathe, that I wasn’t the one in the fight—the two stupid chicks with a death wish were.

  Sadie’s orange glow began to flicker. She launched the coyote across the room again, but this time the animal landed on her feet. One of her legs caved under her, but she ran straight back at the witch, even with her gimpy gait.

  My protector amassed the same orange magic between her palms again, but it sputtered a few times, not nearly as bright, nor as strong. When the coyote charged at her injured calf once more, ripping through the shredded material and tearing a chunk of flesh from her leg, Sadie roared and threw every bit of orange in her hands at the shifter.

&
nbsp; Sadie’s magic flashed as it made contact; the coyote started to shake so hard that she dropped the chunk of bloodied flesh from her mouth, convulsing.

  “All right!” Egan yelled out. “I’m calling it. Disengage.”

  “Oh thank God,” Wren said, huddling into me, speaking my thoughts aloud. Even the less shakable Adalia seemed unsettled, and the sparks of enthusiasm had long faded from Dave’s eyes. Only Jas continued to appear alive with excitement and adrenaline.

  Sadie’s magic fizzled out to nothing as the witch plopped unceremoniously on the mat where she stood. The coyote flopped onto the mat next to her, sides heaving.

  The audience seemed to hold its breath.

  “I call a tie,” Egan called out, his voice ringing across the crowd easily. Murmurs began to build into a frenzy as Melinda and Nancy, with Fianna and Nessa flying overhead, ran over to the fighters. Melinda clutched her apron, covered in delicate flowers, her badger face settled into determined lines. She knelt by Sadie and Marcy June and dug in the deep pockets of her apron for her magical healing ointments. Nancy hovered behind her, apparently waiting for instructions.

  “Holy shit that was intense,” Wren said, drawing my attention back to my friends. “What the hell was Sadie thinking? What the hell was Marcy June thinking? They’re both fucking nuts!”

  I couldn’t remember if I’d ever heard the big-hearted flower-child let the F-bomb fly before, but if ever there was an occasion for it, this was it. My heart was beating far too fast considering all I’d done was observe.

  “Students, head to your next class,” Fianna’s voice rang through my head. “No need to dilly-dally. Everything’s under control here. Show’s over, now move it.”

  “The crimson fairy reminds me of you,” I said to Jas, who smiled broadly.

  “Yeah, she’s got some attitude, huh?”

  I hadn’t really meant it as a good thing, but Jas skewed everything the way she wanted it.

  “Come on, let’s go,” Adalia said, and I allowed her to lead me through the mass of students with a few final glances at Sadie. Was I supposed to wait for her? She didn’t look ready to do any protecting at the moment.

  But as my friends and I moved along with the exodus, I convinced myself that I was surely safe enough at the academy surrounded by shifters as fierce as Marcy June and Sadie, who was shifter fierce despite her witchy magic. Everyone here wanted the same thing: balance and peace in the supernatural world, and between it and the humans. We were all on the same page, right?

  Regardless, unease prickled against my senses while I walked. I just didn’t know why.

  14

  Weeks later, Sadie leaned against the wall next to Damon on the floor of the shifter practice room, legs out in front of her. She was wide-eyed and alert despite the long day and the fact that it was past eight at night. Maybe it was because of the nap she’d taken during Beginning Creature History 201.

  “Someone could make a fortune bottling up Wendell Whittle and selling him as a sleep aid,” she was saying to Damon. “The man could put sprites to sleep, and you know how they are—they won’t stay still for a second.”

  Damon laughed, a low and soothing rumble I’d come to enjoy from the man who didn’t say much.

  “Why would anyone choose him as a professor? Surely there were better options than the most boring werewolf in all history. Probably the only boring werewolf to have ever existed. Werewolves aren’t supposed to be boring. They’re supposed to be feisty, fiery, and ferocious.” She punctuated each adjective with a flick of an enthused hand.

  “Has he caught you sleeping yet?” Damon asked in that deep, smoky voice of his.

  Sadie beamed a grin wide enough to crinkle her eyes. “Nope. Not a single time.”

  “He’s probably not paying attention to you,” I said while I stretched my arms and legs. “You’re not a student. He shouldn’t care whether you sleep through his class or not.”

  “Oh, he cares, trust me. He’s been trying to catch me sleeping since I was a oner.”

  “You were a student of his when you were here?”

  Sadie nodded, her ponytail flopping behind her. “He’s been teaching here since the start of the school. A few of the teachers have, though not all. The vamps had some major turnover during the last few years. Though not Vladimir Vabu. He’s been here from the very start. He was involved in the original Magical Arts Academy, but not that Lorenzo Damante. He’s new, and I don’t trust him.”

  “He hasn’t done anything to make you distrust him though, has he?” Damon asked.

  “No, not yet, but he’s too … good looking. He bugs me.”

  Damon threw his head back and laughed, his heavy dreads brushing the floor. “You can’t seriously be suggesting you don’t trust him because he’s too fine.”

  No … she couldn’t be. Lots of supernaturals were imbued with above average looks thanks to the way their magic worked to achieve balance and harmony.

  “He always looks like he’s ready for a walk-off,” Sadie scoffed. “He’s a vampire, for fuck’s sake, not a Ken doll. A man shouldn’t look that perfect.” When Ky, Boone, and Leander joined Damon and me in staring at her, she added, “But no, I’m not saying that’s why I don’t trust him—not entirely. He just feels off to me, and I’m not sure why.”

  Damon nodded thoughtfully, and from the way his deep brown eyes became pensive, I could tell these Enforcers were used to paying attention to their intuition, even when it didn’t entirely make sense.

  Ky sidled next to me. “As entertaining as it is to watch Sadie lose it over Professor Damante, we have work to do.”

  I struggled to internalize the groan that bubbled up at the thought of what was coming. “I’m starting to think we should name our little practice sessions “Beat Up Rina Time” or something. I’m still sore from last night, and I’m a shifter with super healing.”

  Ky opened his mouth. I put up a hand to stop him. “Don’t bother. I know what you’re going to say already, and yes I realize that Rage and Fury and whatever other numbnuts decide to come after me won’t take it easy.”

  I moved to the center of the padded mats, where a few weeks ago Sadie had sparred Marcy June and become the talk of the school for days. “Who’s going to beat me up first? You or Boone?”

  We’d gotten into a rhythm. For the first few weeks of the term, Ky had trained me alone. Several weeks ago, Boone had joined us. And while the addition of the large wolf shifter meant double the fun and double the bruises, I couldn’t deny that I’d improved noticeably since they’d been helping me.

  Leander hadn’t come before tonight. I didn’t know what he did while his best friends were sparring with me, and in case it had something to do with Stacy, I didn’t ask. I purposefully didn’t look his way, yet I could still sense his attention on me like a warm, sunny breeze.

  I wouldn’t allow the presence of the prince to distract me. I had to be fully present for whatever Ky and Boone had planned. They’d been whispering together earlier, and with the way Ky kept grinning at me, I’d bet it meant they were about to unleash a particularly nasty attack—to test my reactions, of course.

  I was in workout clothes—leggings, a crop tank-top, and my ever-present Converse—and I was as ready as I’d get. The sooner we started, the sooner I’d get to veg with Wren for a while and get some sleep.

  “Let’s get this party started,” I said, and before I’d finished the last word, Ky charged me.

  Though he remained in human form, he was still half a foot taller than me and who knew how many pounds of muscle heavier. He wrapped strong arms around my waist and took me down with him.

  My back hit the mat with a loud smack; the air rushed painfully from my lungs. It was like taking a belly-flop from a ten-story building. I groaned before I could stop myself; Ky seemed to count my groans as points for them or some such boyish nonsense.

  When I looked up into his smiling face, I bucked my hips and legs until I threw him off me. We both rolled and poppe
d up to our feet. He wasn’t going to take me by surprise again.

  I flicked my gaze between Ky and Boone, who was too close, circling me around the mat on the other side. Just in case, I glanced at Sadie, Damon, and Leander. The Enforcers remained where they’d been, though their conversation had ceased, all attention on the match in front of them.

  I shouldn’t have looked at Leander. The moment my eyes skimmed the lines of his body, wings on full, glorious display, I hesitated, drawn by the pull he had over me—the same magnetism I hadn’t been able to shrug off no matter how hard I tried. His eyes blazed as they skimmed across my body. Then they widened, and I knew I’d made a huge mistake.

  I snapped my head around to find Ky more or less where he’d been, though he’d stepped inside the zone of my personal space. I didn’t spot Boone before I was airborne. He rammed into me with his head and shoulders down and sent me sprawling several feet off the floor.

  A month before, I would’ve landed flatter than a lumpy pancake. But these little training sessions had helped hone my reflexes, and even though I was in the body of a girl, my lion was never far away anymore.

  I twisted in the air and managed to get my feet under me before dropping lightly to the mat. I stumbled but caught myself, and the next second I had my fists raised, protecting my face, and my forearms shielding my upper body. I stepped to the back of the mats so I could view both Ky and Boone … and Leander.

  “Don’t let the eye candy distract you,” Sadie called out.

  Sadie had about as much tact as Jas, which was to say none at all. I grimaced at my protector. At least no one would notice me blushing when I was already working up a sweat.

  Ky and Boone shared a look that spoke of nefarious intentions. Hell no. While they were flicking looks at each other, I ran toward them. I dipped my shoulder low and rammed into Ky—and it was like hitting a brick wall. I swallowed my groan of pain as the impact ricocheted down my entire side or I’d never hear the end of it.