Shattered: The Sundance Series

by Rider, C. P.

  "Maintain control. Don't kill him, Cornelia."

  I let up, giving Lewiston a brief reprieve. "If you shift, I'll spike you dead no matter what my dad says." My voice was flat, empty—and in that moment, I knew I would not only follow through with my threat. I wouldn't feel an ounce of regret about it.

  "I won't … shift," Lewiston gasped.

  Keeping my eye on him, I circled around to my dad, releasing him from the restraints. He let out a weary breath, took the necklace off, and showed me the charm. There was a tiny moon on it. It looked like one of the three I'd found in my mother's things.

  "Suppression charm." He picked up one of the restraints and tossed it aside. "Amateurs. No locks, and these weren't even silver. I know you didn't set this up, Lewiston. I taught you better than that."

  "No, sir. None of this was my idea."

  I placed the suppression charm on him. Sure, he'd said he wouldn't shift, but this way I wouldn't be distracted by my concern that he was lying out of his ass.

  I rounded on my dad. "What else have you not told me? Keep in mind that I can call Lucas anytime to rip your lying tongue out of your head. He's shifted to Smilodon, so he'll be here very quickly—he's even more protective of me in prehistoric form."

  "You already know it all." My dad walked around, shaking his legs to bring blood back into them. I wondered how long he'd been strapped to the chair, and then realized I actually didn't care.

  "I want you to say it. For once, tell me everything. Hold nothing back, or this is it. We are done, Henry MacLeod."

  My dad leaned against the wall, away from the window. "You were born a wolf-spiker crossbreed. Your mother was a telepathic-spiker-wolf. We assumed that's the form your animal would take if it wasn't latent—"

  "—it's not," I said.

  He came away from the wall, gaze intent. "You shifted?"

  "Yes. I'm a wolf. A gray wolf like you and Tío." My voice shook as I said the words aloud. I was a shifter. Every single time I said it or thought it, I shivered with renewed fear.

  "The apathy. Is it bad yet?"

  "How would I know?" It panicked me to think about my apathy abstractly, but when it cropped up in dangerous situations, I was glad for it.

  "The bleeds have started." He gestured at my nose. "Ears, too?"

  I nodded. "Mouth, eyes…"

  "It's consuming you," my dad said, with a hateful look in Lewiston's direction. "The energy. You're drawing more than you can safely wield. If you don't find a way to manage it, you'll die."

  "Is that how my mother died?" I asked.

  "Yes. She died in a sanctuary while I stood by, stupid and helpless." He swiped his hand over his hair. "I tried to get her to join a pack, any pack. I offered to start my own—as an alpha leader with wolves to draw upon, I could have helped her manage it. But she was afraid to hand over control, and that's what joining a pack is about. Maria loved me. She just could never bring herself to fully trust me."

  Given his history, I was going to chalk that one up to a good call on Mom's part.

  "The only time she considered it was when you were born. She knew she was getting worse and you were everything to her. God, she loved you." He smiled, and then let the joy fade out of his face. "They took her before she could decide. And she bled out trying to escape."

  "Why didn't you tell me I was a crossbreed?"

  "I figured your wolf was latent. You never showed any shifter qualities as a child or adult. Even latent shifters have to deal with their animals. They might never change their appearance, but their animal can overwhelm them if they aren't careful. You never did any of that."

  "The only thing that changed was that my senses were heightened—and obviously there were the physical signs. I still thought like a human while in wolf form, and I wasn't able to heal myself."

  My dad looked at Lewiston, who had sat up on the floor and drawn his knees to his chest. "That might be because this is all new. Did your wolf emerge in response to some sort of trauma?"

  "I died while spiking into Guillermo Martinez's head."

  My dad's color, which had finally returned to its natural dark brown, went gray again. "Your wolf brought you back?"

  "That's what Lucas thinks." I shrugged one shoulder. "He says he didn't send me any energy and no one else could have, either. So that leaves my wolf."

  "What else happened?"

  "I bonded Guillermo to me somehow. Inside the illusion and spike, I commanded him to shift to save his own life, and I guess I flipped some vestigial switch and Guillermo connected with me."

  "You're an alpha?" This was from Lewiston. It occurred to me that we were supplying our adversary with a lot of new information.

  "I'm a spiker."

  "Have you shifted again?" My dad asked.

  "No." Unless he meant hybrid form, which he probably did, but I wasn't giving Lewiston any more information. "Look, I'd rather not talk about this in front of our enemy here. Legion's methods are brutal, and I'd prefer not to end up covered with bees, thank you very much."

  "Lewiston is going to a holding cell deep underground. He won't harm you."

  "Henry, you know me. I can do more good—"

  "I don't know you at all," he said, a little sadly I thought, then turned to me. "Phone?"

  I handed it to him, and he made some calls. Then he wiped the numbers from my call history and handed back my phone.

  Good old trusting Dad.

  "Your colleagues will be here shortly, Lewiston. Maybe you can get them to listen to you." Dad's eyes glowed with his wolf. "Because I am finished."

  * * *

  When I walked out of the house, Lucas, Juan, Gert, and Guillermo were tromping around the yard, seeming pleased with themselves. There were shifter parts everywhere. Blood and viscera, and pulpy, fleshy bits I tried not to look at. Juan held up the jawbone of the prehistoric crocodile and Gert batted at it with her giant paw.

  It was stunning to see three shifters, in prehistoric form, playing together. It was also pretty damn gross.

  I stepped onto the grass and my shoe squelched in something red and gooey.

  Don't look, don't look, don't look…

  Guillermo pounced in front of me. He was back in Texas red wolf form and looked much steadier. He sat back on his haunches and gave me a wolf smile, his tongue lolling out one side of his mouth.

  I reached out to pat his head. It was over. The bad guys had been dealt with and everyone was safe. I stared at the mound of body parts Lucas and Juan were piling in the center of the yard.

  Well, everyone I cared about was safe, anyway.

  Guillermo yipped. As I gazed into his intelligent eyes, I realized that while this battle was over, his inner one had just begun. I had some experience with this, though it would be arrogant of me to assume that I knew exactly what he was going through. After all, I'd been held in a sanctuary for a few days, while he had been systematically tortured until latent DNA inside of him awakened.

  Gert shifted to her prehistoric hybrid form, which basically meant she looked the same except she walked on two legs and had the ability to speak. In fact, she looked exactly like Guillermo had looked that first night outside the Dusty Cactus.

  "That old fool." She stared at the hole in the front of the house and shook her head sadly. "That bastard of an old fool. Come on, Gil. Let's go home." Then she walked away, not to where Juan or Lucas were working, but out of the yard, gradually shifting into her red wolf form. Guillermo licked my hand once, and followed her.

  Amir, in eagle form, alighted on the mashed grille of Juan's truck. He shifted, feathers melting into flesh, until he was completely human.

  "The wolves held the perimeter. No one got in or out during the battle, though we had a few injuries when a crazed bear shifter made a break for it. The trancer helped distract her, but it was a near thing. The injured wolves survived, though they will have to remain shifted for a while to heal properly." He eyed me curiously. "You didn't shift to your wolf?"

  "No.
I'm a spiker, not a shifter. When cornered, I spike."

  Amir said nothing, but his expression very clearly illustrated how full of it he thought I was. "Did you find your father?"

  I nodded toward the house. "In there. He's fine. Lewiston was in on it."

  Amir didn't appear surprised. "Organizations like this can be very tempting for people like Lewiston and your father. They are ruthlessly effective, and there's a kind of seductive power in that sort of efficiency. It's a sunny day straight line to the goal, no curves or fog, no soulful second guesses."

  "Yeah, I could see where that would work for my dad. He isn't involved, though. He said Winter, the white wolf, brought him here. Lewiston helped. It's unclear who beat him, but he's fine now, so…" I stared into the house. Dad and Lewiston were still inside, waiting for whoever my dad had called.

  "Did your father give you the truth you were looking for?"

  I thought about my mother's journal tucked away in my bag at Juan's house. "No. Lewiston did—and my mom. But he told me more than he had before. That's something, I guess."

  "We always want more from our parents, but we forget they are only human and sometimes what they give us is all they have to give."

  "Not sure that applies to my dad."

  "It applies. You just don't like that it applies." Brown feathers appeared on his arms, legs, and torso. "Should I alert the perimeter wolves that your father will be calling in backup?"

  "Yeah. Thanks," I said, as he began the transformation into his true form, a golden eagle as sleek and elegant as his human form. "That thanks is for everything, by the way. I'm glad you were here with me, Amir. I wouldn't have come out of this nearly as well without your help."

  "It was an honor." He paused in his shift, regarding me. "It's no trouble, you know, serving the Blacke group. I've belonged to convocations where I felt like nothing more than a warm body, cannon fodder for battles against other groups. I have never once felt that with Lucas Blacke. He was my friend before he was my alpha, and he remains my friend today."

  "Huh. I thought your group name was flock, not convocation."

  "Well then, I guess you missed that documentary." He arched one black eyebrow up high. "And my point."

  "Oh, I got your point." I indicated the place on my chest where my heart was. "It hit me right here, which was your intention, I'm sure."

  "I'm sure." He flashed me one last smile, then shifted the rest of the way. He hopped onto the truck roof, flapped his strong wings, and flew off.

  Lucas jogged up, accompanied by Juan. Both were in prehistoric hybrid form, covered in blood, and grinning. It was a truly disturbing thing to witness.

  "Your dad's people are coming?" Juan asked.

  The sound of an approaching helicopter answered his question.

  "Amir left to tell your wolves." As I said this, my dad brought Lewiston onto the porch. He had his hand on the younger man's elbow, but he wasn't pushing him. Lewiston held his head high as he walked out onto the lawn.

  "The prehistorics are dead?" He directed this question to Lucas. "All of them? Even the Sarcosuchus?"

  "Only the ones who tried to make us dead first. So, yeah, all of them." Lucas regarded the other man. "You're the lone survivor of this evil little group. How does it feel?"

  Blood suffused Lewiston's face. He had never looked less forgettable than he did at that moment. "You didn't have to kill them."

  Lucas shrugged. "We tried playing poker with them, but the crocodile ate all the aces, and the coyotes didn't have any cash. Also, they kept trying to murder us, which became something of a downer after a while."

  As the helicopter moved closer, it became too noisy to speak. It touched down in the dead field adjacent the farmhouse—the field I'd killed to save myself and Guillermo Martinez—and three of my father's agents filed out, female, male, female. They were all wolves in hybrid form, dressed in gray-brown tactical attire and carrying assault weapons.

  The male paired with one of the females and stood behind Lewiston. The remaining wolf reported to my dad. They spoke in hushed tones, which made no difference to anyone there except me.

  How nice for me to get the shifter form without the perks of healing and enhanced sight, hearing, and speed. My sense of smell had intensified a bit, but only when I was in wolf form. I didn't seem to be able—

  The male to the left of Lewiston whipped the moon charm over his head, allowing him to shift to lion. The female to his right raised her weapon and fired it at my father. He sidestepped, grabbed the female standing beside him by the muzzle, and used her as a shield while knocking the weapon from her hands as she made to raise it. The wolf firing the gun purposely shot the female and she dropped to the ground like a stone, leaving my dad without a shield.

  Blood rushed into my head and my world narrowed. My lungs seemed to expand beyond what my chest would allow as I let out a vicious growl, leapt over my father, and ripped into the female agent's throat with my claws. Without so much as a change of expression, I reached over and caught the male agent by the neck, slid my claws into his throat, and sliced through his carotid and trachea, spraying Lewiston's lion with the agent's blood.

  When the blood mist had cleared, Lewiston was pinned to the ground under Juan Martinez and both the traitor agents were headless, thanks to Lucas. The agent who'd been shot bled out before the scene was over, which had only taken a few seconds.

  Silver ammo, my father mouthed.

  He picked up one of the weapons and tromped through the dry grass. He fired into the helicopter, one short burst, then boarded it. Seconds later, another helicopter landed beside it. Four shifters in identical tactical gear filed out of this one too. They met my dad at the other helicopter where he showed them his gun and, I assume, his willingness to use the weapon on them if need be. The team nodded briskly and two broke away to apprehend Lewiston. Juan rolled to the side and one of the agents slung another moon charm over the lion's head. Lewiston immediately—and painfully, if his expression was any indication—changed back to human.

  Once Lewiston was on the second helicopter, it took off. My father jogged back to me. It was still too loud for him to speak, so he didn't try to make himself heard. Instead, he mouthed the words, I love you.

  He gave a brisk nod to the alphas, ran back to the helicopter, climbed into the pilot's seat, and took off.

  "I had no idea he was a pilot," I said inanely as I stared down at my deadly—now human—hands. I'd expected them to be trembling after what they'd done. Nope. They were as steady as a surgeon's stitching hand, as Dolores would say. Or maybe Earp. Or maybe it was something I would say. Whoever I was.

  "Neely." Lucas spoke from behind me. I could tell by his voice that he was still hybrid, though he was more human now. "You did the right thing."

  "I know." My shoe slipped in a puddle of blood as I turned to face him. He was alone. Juan had gone to talk to his wolves on the other side of the house. "Did you see that I shifted? Did everyone see?"

  "I think they were a little too distracted by what you were doing to worry about it, but yes. We all saw your wolf—sort of."

  "Sort of?"

  "You didn't shift. At least, not in any traditional way."

  Was he trying to make me feel better or something? "Lucas, I saw my hands. They were paws. Claws."

  "Yes, but the rest of you was human."

  I got very still. The only shifter I'd ever seen who could do that was a prehistoric coyote. I was not a prehistoric anything.

  "You're a strong alpha." Lucas sounded proud. "I knew you were powerful the second I laid eyes on you but, holy shit, sugar cookie, even I didn't foresee this."

  I nodded five times in a row.

  "Your eyes are huge." He cocked his head to one side. "On a scale of chamomile tea to quadruple espresso, how freaked out are you right now?"

  "Quadruple espresso made with robusto beans."

  "I take it that's pretty freaked out?"

  I nodded five times again.

&
nbsp; "You're okay. We've got this." He slid his arm around me and brought me close.

  "Lucas, am I going to be weird on full moons now?"

  He frowned. "Wow. Way to stereotype shapeshifters."

  "Sorry."

  "I forgive you. Also, the answer is yes. You'll probably be a little weird on full moons. At least, until you figure out how to handle moon magic. We all get a nice surge right around that time of the month."

  I swatted his gut, laughed, snuggled closer. "You always make me feel better."

  "It's my innate charm."

  "Sure it is." I rested my head on his chest. "According to Barney Drath, I now have a bigoted cult leader hunting me."

  "Another day, another asshole. We can handle it."

  He was right. We could.

  I sloshed through the blood-soaked grass. My flats were going in the garbage first chance I got. "I should feel sick looking at this carnage. Why don't I?"

  "Because we won."

  I looked around at all the dead. None of them were any of us and I felt fine.

  "Yes. That's probably it." I pulled him closer. "Let's go home."

  Chapter Thirty

  By the time we arrived back at Juan's house, we were too exhausted to do more than shower and fall into bed. The next day, I got a call from my dad.

  "I'm in Arizona," he said by way of greeting.

  "With Lewiston?"

  "Yes. He's not talking, but he will."

  "Is this your way of asking me to spike him?" I felt empty and numb.

  "No, Cornelia. We have both a telepath and a trancer here. We'll be fine."

  "Sampson Ibarra is with you?" I'd seen him briefly after the battle, but we hadn't spoken.

  "He's here."

  "Tell him we're square."

  "I will."

  "I'm glad you're okay, Dad."

  "I'm glad you're okay, too. Thank you for coming for me."

  We both went quiet.

  After a minute or so, I spoke again. "I'm furious with you."

  "You have every right to be. The questions you want answered are in your mother's journal. Read it. If you have more questions, call me and we'll meet. I'll tell you what I know."