Death Be Shifted (The Terra Vane Series Book 6)

by Katie Epstein

  Show-offs.

  “Who goes there!” one of them shouted. As they came closer, I saw they all were of a towering height with dark locks hanging about their tanned faces. One of them suddenly smiled when he caught sight of Kaleb. “Well, I’ll be,” he said, hurrying forward. “Kaleb Cipher.”

  “Wait a minute,” Kaleb met the shifter halfway. “Is that Denny? Denny Ulmer?”

  “In the flesh.”

  The two shifters grabbed hold of one another in a bear hug, obviously happy to see one another.

  “Damn, Denny. You grew up on us. Last time I saw you, you were just a pup.”

  “Well, this pup got big. Big enough to kick your butt.”

  Kaleb laughed, and the other two shifters who accompanied Denny relaxed. “Zeke and Ralf,” Kaleb said to them. “You still nipping at his heels?”

  Laughing, they came forth to embrace Kaleb, sparring with him for a short while until they noticed me watching their playfulness.

  “Who rides with you, buddy?” Denny asked. He was tall, but not as tall as Kaleb. He had to reach up to put an affectionate arm around Kaleb’s shoulder.

  “This is my gorgeous girlfriend, Terra.”

  Rolling my eyes, I stepped forth, holding my hand out. “Nice to meet you.”

  Denny eyed my hand warily. Kaleb pushed him forward. “Shake her hand.”

  “Oh,” Denny gasped, his eyes wide. He shook my hand as if it were a limp fish.

  Kaleb smiled in apology. “Sorry. Denny has never ventured into the city. They don’t shake hands here. Only bite them off.”

  “Hey,” Denny said, offended, but he smiled when Kaleb ruffled his hair.

  I waved in greeting to the shifters called Zeke and Ralf, not making the same mistake twice. They nodded, but they were on their guard. Shifters don’t like strangers on their land, even the friendly ones.

  Denny turned to Kaleb. “What business do you have here?”

  “Nothing for your ears.” He clipped him around the back of his head. “How about letting us on the lands so I can let Brent know I’m around?”

  “You know the protocol, man,” he whined. “Brent will have my ass if I don’t announce you first.” All Kaleb had to do was raise an eyebrow, and Denny faltered. “All right, all right. We’ll take you in. But only because you saved me from being dunked in the stream that one time.” He patted Kaleb’s back. “Come on. Brent will be pleased to see you.”

  Falling to the back of the crowd while Kaleb patiently listened to the chatter, my heart warmed at how he behaved with them. Not one of them looked above the age of sixteen, although they were likely a lot older. Still young pups though, and probably not long come into their animal.

  They’d done well to do so. The shifting process in wolves happening when puberty hits. It is a worrying time for the parents and their child because not every shifter can tame their animal. When the worst happens, the animal takes charge, resulting in a rogue shifter.

  Unfortunately, if their wild natures escalate, rogues can no longer stay with their family, and they end up in the Territorial Shifter Hold next to the prison. A fate many have suffered over the years.

  Kaleb reached out his hand to me while keeping his focus on Denny as he chatted away. I took it, wrapping my fingers around his. But that wasn’t close enough for him. He loosed it, and draped his arm around my shoulders, pulling me near. In his human way, Kaleb made his claim. But after previously dating my boss, and hearing Cole’s wolf didn’t like me, it made me question if any wolf from the Cipher family would want a human mate for life. Let alone one who had no connections.

  Taking comfort from the knowledge that Kaleb’s wolf at least liked me, I listened to them talk about the old days with a smile on my face. Even though they were much younger than Kaleb, it sounded like Brent and Kaleb’s antics were renowned.

  Wading through the waist-high grass, we came across fields on the outskirts used for farming. A few shifters, male and female, worked there, sowing and picking crops. The managed land on this side of the trees made it easier to walk through.

  Stopping from what they were doing to watch us pass by, Kaleb waved to some, shouting ‘hello’ to others. Many welcomed him when they caught sight of who it was, some tentatively waving back, almost as if trouble had arrived.

  “Mable doesn’t like me,” he whispered after we passed a female shifter with the physical presence of a woman in her fifties tending the land. She glared at him.

  “What did you do?”

  “So it’s guilty before proven innocent with you, eh? Thanks.”

  “I know you too well.”

  “He and Brent made slingshots with the pantyhose she hung on the washing line,” Denny told me. “Then they let out the neighbor’s dog who ended up digging up most of her roses.”

  I tried not to chuckle out loud at their antics. “You have dogs here?”

  “Sure do,” Denny replied. “Dogs love us shifters. We know their needs better than anyone.”

  Looking up at Kaleb I said, “So, you’ve always been a troublemaker?”

  “Never,” he gasped with a wink.

  Log cabins, wooden houses, all came into view as we walked over the peaks of the hills. Smoke came out of chimneys, each home built on its piece of land. The buildings had no sense of order to their layout, but they made every house in such a place, in such a way, for a reason. I knew that much. Either it’s because of the direction from where the sun shined or the moon beamed. Or it could be because of the course of the wind on most days, or the scents that come with it. Some would build on such a plot because it had the prettiest of grass. But because of that, and to appease those who lived and worked here, each shifter built their house where they saw fit—provided it maintained harmony within the pack.

  Denny brought us to a beautiful beech wood exterior cabin with a green, triangular roof. With double fronted windows and a grand entryway, the cabin extended out and then some to the side, the same green-framed windows and a second door welcoming visitors.

  Pretty, laced curtains hung from the windows, a yellow and white gingham ribbon tied around them. Apple trees finished its homely welcome.

  A huge man came out to meet us on his stoop the moment we got close. He also looked homely, more like a bear shifter than a wolf, his puppy-dog eyes complimenting a mouth with lines that showed he smiled a lot. Jet-black hair curled close to his scalp; warm, brown skin remained young on a handsome face with eyes that shone deep and wise beyond his years. They lit up when they caught sight of Kaleb, and both of the men embraced and patted backs once they came together.

  This must be Brent Chaucer.

  “How are you, Brent?” asked Kaleb, and Brent laughed, disbelieving as he looked upon his friend.

  “I’m good. All good. But I can’t believe you’re here, man. You look well!”

  Kaleb patted his stomach. “Sign of good living. Where’s Anya?”

  “Off at her mother’s down Southbank. She’ll be back later on today. But how about you?” Brent looked at me. “And who have you brought to see us?”

  Kaleb gave the introductions. “This is my girlfriend, Terra Vane. The one who finally got me to settle down.”

  Brent’s eyes twinkled, a warm smile lighting up his face. “Well, I’ll be. Never thought we’d see the day.”

  “Yeah. We wanted to come visit, catch up. I haven’t seen you in an age!”

  A flicker of understanding flared across Brent’s expression at Kaleb’s reply. Whatever he’d got from it, he’d received more than what Kaleb’s excited words had conveyed. Carefully watching those behind us who’d come out of their homes to see what was happening on their territory, Brent replied, “All right. Then let’s head in. See what you’ve been up to.”

  “I hope your coffee-making skills have improved with Anya absent,” Kaleb teased, and I followed the two men into the cabin.

  Glancing back, I saw no one move, all of them staring at us with warning gazes. We turned a corner, leaving them be
hind, and I let Kaleb and Brent lead the way.

  10

  After ushering us into his study, Brent took a seat behind a desk of chaos. We sat down before him in matching chairs.

  Despite the lovely, warm, welcoming home he’d led us through, this room embraced the masculine.

  Rows of bookshelves filled the walls, but few books inhabited them. He’d shoved the odd tome about shifter law and history in different places, but, other than that, deserted tools, novelty wolf mugs, and other ornaments filled the space. An odd feminine touch popped up in the form of a stained-glass lamp and pretty drapes on the windows. But dark greens and browns claimed every corner and orifice clarified it as Brent’s domain. It was a simple setting, but one with purpose.

  “We’ll have privacy in here,” Brent told us, his eyes watchful. “So, what really brings you here, Kaleb?”

  Kaleb didn’t miss a beat. “I wanted to introduce Terra to you. Come see you.”

  “Is that so?”

  “Yes. But there is another reason we’re here. And I’d like to know why all the packs are banding together to keep the agency out the loop on what’s going on.”

  Brent pursed his lips. “I take it you didn’t visit your father before coming to me?”

  Kaleb laughed, more in disbelief than with any humor. “You know me well enough to know the answer to that.”

  “Yeah, I do.” He leaned back in his chair. “So why me? Why here?”

  “We understand you’ve had an attack on your lands. Two injured. One dead. We’re here to seek answers discreetly and assess if it falls under our jurisdiction.”

  “Ah. I’ve heard about the team the PCA have pulled together to aid in world security. The Interside Enforcement Team. I take it you’re leading that now?”

  Kaleb went to reply, but I intervened. “Yes, he is,” I told the Alpha. “There are more of us. But the others are following up on additional leads. We’re only here to inquire then leave, as long as the matter has nothing to do with us.”

  Kaleb gave me a discerning look, but I ignored him. He’d temporarily held the leader position while I’d gone after The Bard, so technically he still led it. But either way, for now, Brent needed to believe he did so. The shifters wouldn’t listen to me. And we were in their domain. Kaleb knew how to handle them, and he would get more respect if they thought him to lead the woman, rather than the other way around. The wolf shifters are yet to lurk out of the Dark Ages.

  “Look,” Kaleb said, turning back to his friend, “all we want to determine is whether a target of ours has made it to Totem Talamh. If they have, you need to know this isn’t a run-of-the-mill felon. The people we chase are dangerous. Extremely dangerous. And you, your family, and your pack are in grave danger if they’re running around.”

  Brent frowned. “You think I don’t know that?”

  “I know you. But you don’t know everything. Trust me. If you knew the truth, you wouldn’t be hesitating right now.”

  “You think we can’t protect our own? That we can’t protect our borders?”

  “I believe you don’t know what you’re up against, and you’re ready to pin this on a bunch of rogue shifters.” Brent shifted in his seat, and Kaleb noticed. “Is that what they told you? That it’s rogue shifters who are attacking?”

  Brent picked up a pen and snapped it in half. He threw down the remnants, stroking his chin as he turned the other half over in his hand. “They summoned a meeting, gathered the Alphas of the eastern packs. Your father was the one to orchestrate it, using the force of his pack and that of the Gunnar pack to put the pressure on. They claimed they’d received news of a breakout from the Territorial Shifter Hold and many rogues had broken free. They said that’s all they knew, and we had to prepare for the chance the rogues would find their way back home to us. They also mentioned if we let the agency, or that farce—Theodulf’s words—of the IET they’ve put together know about it, then the agents will hunt down the rogues we love, and kill them without question. You can imagine the turn of the crowd after that.”

  Kaleb stilled, trying to rein in his temper. A low growl hummed from his throat. I put my hand on his leg, and a whine escaped him. But embracing my touch, he softened.

  Taking his hand in mine, I held it tight. He squeezed his eyes in pain, breathing heavily.

  Brent watched us, also careful not to move. A shifter knows when another shifter is close to the edge, and they take any movement as a threat.

  “Kaleb,” I said sternly, getting him to focus on my voice, “we’re going to resolve this. Your father doesn’t have the power here. We do.”

  “You don’t understand,” he said through gritted teeth. “He is powerful, powerful enough to get seven packs on his side with lies. They will not…” He breathed deeply before continuing, “They will not deny him. Not for the likes of us.”

  When I turned to Brent, his eyes were on our joined hands, intrigue sparkling within them.

  “I’m sorry about Andora,” Brent soothed.

  Kaleb’s hand shook beneath mine. “Andora won’t be among the so-called escaped rogues though, will she? She died a long time ago.”

  Sadness shadowed Brent’s face. “I know that, my friend. I know.”

  Not knowing who this ‘Andora’ was, and hating the melancholy cast upon Kaleb at the mention of her name, I said to Brent, “We’re facing off with something a lot worse than rogues. And they could be among you already. I don’t know why Kaleb’s father felt the need to convey false information, but that’s up to you and the other shifters to sort out. We’re here to do our job, and part of that is to keep this world safe. Including you.”

  Brent ignored me. “If I help you with this, Kaleb, it won’t take long for your father to know about it. You bring trouble to my door, my friend.”

  “Trouble was already here,” he snapped. “It’s up to you to appease my father or stop another member of your pack from being killed.”

  Pain seared Brent’s face and Kaleb softened.

  “Brent,” he asked tentatively, “who died?”

  “Varden River.”

  “Damn,” he whispered. “He was nearing a hundred.”

  “Yep. And he was always a shifter who didn’t like to follow the rules. He broke the curfew to go fishing down at the lake. Some kids found his body the morning after. Anya is with his family. The burial will be tonight.”

  “Goddamn it, Brent.”

  “I haven’t reported it to your father yet. No matter what Theodulf Cipher believes, he is not Alpha of my pack. I am. And the family will have time to bury their dead before I bring anyone else in on this.”

  “You’re supposed to report any suspicious deaths to the agency,” Kaleb growled. “Or does the law no longer matter around here?”

  He shrugged. “Under normal circumstances, I would have. But if I’d gone to the agency with this, after your father told hundreds of shifters to keep it under wraps, who do you think he’d make an example of?”

  “My father isn’t the Alpha of your pack.”

  “No. But I know when your father wants something his tongue becomes poison.”

  Kaleb said nothing to that, but it pissed him off. If he squeezed my hand any tighter, I’d no longer be able to feel it.

  “May we see the body?” I asked to change the subject.

  “The body?”

  “Yes. The body of Varden River. We may, from his injuries, be able to determine if it was a rogue who attacked him. If it is unquestionably the result of a rogue shifter, then we can sidle on out of here and leave the rest of you to it. We are only interested in arresting the specific individuals we’re hunting. Anything outside of that is a problem of the Portiside City Agency. Not us.”

  Brent thought about it, then relented. “We’re holding him in a healing chamber for now. We’ve prepared him for burial this evening.”

  “Then let us determine what attacked him,” Kaleb replied. “Hopefully, after that, we’ll be out of your hair.”

 
“Very well.” He rose from his seat. “But his death was a gruesome one. I hope you can handle it.” He glanced at me, seeing a potential damsel in distress.

  “I’ve seen worse.” I rankled beneath his chauvinistic gaze.

  “Okay. Then I’ll take you to him.”

  11

  A neat row of log cabins called the Healing Chambers stood organized away from the other homes. Hidden among the dense forest, they were one level and built for simplicity and practicality. No frills.

  We entered the second chamber through a door, wooden and plain. The cabin housed three rooms: one bathroom, one bedroom. But at the core where the living room would usually be, a large healing tank and two beds filled the space ready for the infirm.

  A sheet covered an unnaturally still form on one bed. Brent hesitated before moving toward the body. He lit a lantern hovering it over the bed to spill light into the shadowed room. Pulling back the sheet, I smelled nothing treacherous as expected. But moving closer, it was clear someone had already cleansed the deceased shifter.

  “This doesn’t look like the result of a rogue attack,” Kaleb murmured, lifting his head from examining the bite mark on Varden’s neck. “Any evidence to say he fought back?”

  Brent shook his head. “He was in his human form when they found him, so it doesn’t look like he turned wolf. Perhaps he didn’t have the chance to?”

  “And you truly believe a rogue shifter would have the cognitive control and know-how to sneak up on an experienced shifter such as Varden?”

  Brent said nothing, only crossed his arms against his chest.

  “Didn’t think so,” Kaleb muttered.

  “Rogue bites would leave fang marks if they were to warn or to attack,” I said, having the first-hand experience of what a rogue bite looked like—and felt like. “If they’d fed on him, there’d be no bite marks at all. Or anything left of your friend.”

  “They ate his foot and hand.”

  “It’s not enough for a rogue. Not unless someone disturbed them.”