Endangered

by Michelle Larkin

  “You’re probably wondering why you shifted into a lioness instead of a panther. I don’t know the answer to that yet—I’ll have to look it up in the library—but I suspect it’s because you’re a Myriad. As a Myriad, you can take the shape of any animal. I’m guessing you assumed mine because you were focused on me. You were probably just following my lead.” She knelt beside Aspen. “But you do make a beautiful lioness,” she added, studying her. “Your eyes are set farther apart than mine, your fur is a darker shade of blond, and you’re a little longer and taller than me.” She lifted one of Aspen’s paws to examine it more closely. “Your paws are also slightly larger and more squared-off than mine. Like humans, no two Shrouds are identical when they shift.” She let Aspen’s paw fall back to the floor and returned her gaze to the mirror. “Ready to shift back?”

  With one last look at herself as a lioness, Aspen nodded.

  “It’s easiest to shift when you’re in motion. Just walk forward, take a deep breath, and remember what it feels like to walk on your feet in your human body. The rest of your body will follow suit.” Tora stood. “Go ahead. Give it a try.”

  Aspen did as Tora instructed and realized immediately that something had gone awry. Instead of shifting back to human form, she now had wings. She turned around to look at herself in the mirror and caught her own reflection as a snow-white owl.

  Tora came up alongside her. They both stared at her image in the mirror. “Amazing. Were you trying to shift into an owl?”

  Aspen shook her head and extended a wing to examine it. Strangely enough, her instincts were telling her to stay on the ground. She still hated heights, even in this form.

  “Well, you also make a convincing and very beautiful owl,” Tora said, standing. “Try shifting back to human form. Remember what I told you?”

  Turning, Aspen ambled away awkwardly on owl feet. This form was even less comfortable than a lioness. She focused and immediately felt her body begin to change. She knew she was a wolf before she even looked in the mirror—a wolf as black as the darkest shadow, just like Oscar. Bewildered, she turned to face Tora.

  Once again, Tora knelt beside her as they both studied her image in the mirror. “Were you trying for a wolf?” she asked.

  Aspen shook her head, a little concerned.

  “It seems you’re shifting into the animals you’ve seen in the order you’ve seen them: a lioness, an owl, and now a wolf. Maybe this is typical shifting behavior for a Myriad,” Tora suggested. “I read everything I could find on you in the library this morning. Since Myriads haven’t existed for over a century, the information we have is pretty outdated. There are bound to be surprises along the way. I’m sure this is the first of many, but don’t be discouraged.” She stood. “Keep going. You’re doing great.”

  Aspen shifted into a tiger, grizzly bear, and cheetah. On the heels of one animal came another. Her body had its own agenda, seemingly beyond her control. Each time she saw the reflection of yet another animal, she grew more concerned at the thought of not being able to return to her human body.

  A gorilla, snow leopard, and rhinoceros followed. She felt her body going for the elephant next. Through sheer force of will, she braked it to a screeching stop because she knew the bedroom ceiling wasn’t tall enough to accommodate such a large animal. A little disoriented by the raw power and massive size of an elephant, she felt herself shrinking into a tiny brown field mouse.

  “Show-off,” Tora said, peering down at her like a giant. “All that’s left now is—”

  Aspen felt herself growing in size and caught sight in the mirror of a large brown Cape buffalo with menacing horns.

  “The buffalo,” Tora finished.

  She wasn’t done yet. Her body rapidly assumed the shapes of an Irish wolfhound, an orangutan, and then a gorilla.

  “Forgot about them,” Tora said. “Well, I think that about covers it.”

  But there was one more Tora didn’t know about. The chance encounter with Jacob in the hospital corridor accounted for the red fox she found herself now facing in the mirror. Feeling dizzy, Aspen wondered if she would manifest the primary animals of the newborns she had blessed but was relieved to feel the familiarity of her human body once again.

  “Welcome back,” Tora said. “How do you feel?”

  “Like I could sleep for a week,” she admitted, thankful to be walking on human feet. She sat on the edge of the bed and glanced down at her body. She was so tired she’d almost forgotten she was naked. “What about my panther?” she asked, too tired to grab the throw off the floor to cover herself. At least they were both naked.

  “Did you try to shift into your panther?”

  “I really didn’t try for anything. It all sort of just…happened.” She yawned. “Can I put some clothes on and go to bed now?”

  “Not until you shift into your panther.” Tora put her hands on her hips and locked her gaze on Aspen. “This is important, Aspen.”

  If she wasn’t so damn tired, this moment would be comical—Tora standing there, hands on hips, stark naked. But she couldn’t even muster enough energy to laugh. “Fine. Tell me what to do,” she said, standing from the bed.

  “Just do what I do. But instead of a lioness, envision yourself as who you really are inside: a black panther. Embrace your instincts, Aspen. Embrace who you are. Feel the details.” Then, without another word, Tora dove headfirst toward the bed, effortlessly shifting into lioness form.

  Aspen watched, mesmerized. It was a breathtaking display of grace, beauty, and magic. Tora landed on the bed with all four paws and turned to face her. Flicking her tail in agitation, she flattened her ears, snarled with menacingly sharp teeth, and swiped a paw—hard—at Aspen. She glanced down at her shoulder to find a trail of blood where Tora’s claws had sliced her.

  She brought a hand to her shoulder and held it to stanch the bleeding. “What the hell, Tora? That hurt!”

  Tora leaped from the bed and stalked around her in a circle like a lioness toying with its prey before the kill, her amber-gold gaze perfectly mimicking a hungry and very dangerous predator.

  Aspen imagined herself as a panther, but she remained in human form as Tora continued to circle her. “I’m trying to shift. It’s not working.”

  The rock floor under her bare feet vibrated as Tora growled deeply. Another lightning-quick strike to Aspen’s thigh drew more blood.

  “Stop, Tora. This isn’t funny anymore.” Without taking her eyes from the lioness, she brought a hand to her thigh and felt the blood oozing between her fingers.

  The lioness didn’t back down. She appeared to be in true predatory mode. Had Tora’s primal instincts taken over? “Tora?” She searched the lioness’s eyes but saw nothing of Tora in them. “I said, stop.”

  The lioness reared up, set massive paws on Aspen’s chest, and knocked her to the floor in the blink of an eye. Aspen soon found herself trapped beneath the lioness’s muscular girth. She felt four-inch canines begin to puncture her delicate human skin as powerful jaws clamped around her throat.

  Her instincts suddenly kicked in. She wasn’t born to be prey. She, too, was a powerful predator. She felt her body changing so swiftly that she didn’t have time to think about what it was changing into and was relieved to see that her hands had shifted into furry black paws with formidable-looking claws.

  At once bursting with power and strength, she kicked at the lioness and flipped her onto her back. Before Aspen knew what had happened, she had the lioness pinned to the floor by the throat. The lioness froze, so she stopped just short of sinking her canines into the lioness’s tender flesh. She gradually eased up and finally released her grip when the lioness made no move to challenge her. It was clear who won this battle.

  The lioness righted herself and rose slowly on all fours. They circled one another warily in the center of the room. Aspen growled in warning, her head and tail held high. The lioness finally lowered hers in submission.

  Aspen caught a glimpse of herself in the mirr
or. Her fur was shiny and sleek, her muscular physique clearly defined, but her eyes were the most startling. A piercing yellow against her black-as-night fur, they had an ethereal quality. This was the body that was truly hers. It surprised her to realize this panther body felt even more comfortable than her human body. Not too big, not too small. The perfect fit.

  Tora came up alongside her, and they both gazed in the mirror. They were of equal height and build. The yin and yang of their coloring once again struck Aspen. Remembering the lacerations to her shoulder and thigh—courtesy of the lioness beside her—she gave Tora’s cheek a long lick with her sandpaper tongue.

  Tora shifted back to human form, a look of disgust on her face. She wiped her cheek with the back of one hand. “You licked me.”

  Aspen followed suit, shifting back into her human self with little effort. Shapeshifting was a lot more fun than she’d imagined. She doubted it would ever grow old. She glanced down at her body. The lacerations on her shoulder and thigh were still there. They hurt like hell. “Payback’s a bitch. But for the record, I’d rather be licked than mutilated by those insanely sharp razor blades you call claws.”

  “You’re a Shroud. You’ll heal fast. Besides, that was for your own good. I had to do something to get you to shift into your panther.”

  “And I gave you that as a small token of my appreciation,” Aspen said, pointing to Tora’s cheek. “Since I’m the dominant female, I get to lick whoever I want.”

  “It’s whomever. And no, you are not the dominant female. I let you win that wrestling match.”

  “Did not.”

  “Did too.”

  Aspen gave her a playful bump on the shoulder. “Whatever you say.” She stood and used the last of her energy to walk to the bed. “Can we get some sleep now?”

  “As much as I enjoyed the show, we could both use a good night’s rest.”

  For a moment, Aspen wasn’t sure if Tora was flirting. Was that comment about her body or the endless stream of animals? It wasn’t worth contemplating in her current state of mind because her judgment was undoubtedly impaired by sheer exhaustion. Unable to peel herself from the bed’s soft mattress, she watched as Tora went to a duffel bag in the corner, unzipped it, and threw on blue-and-white-striped pajama bottoms and a white V-neck T-shirt. Aspen wanted to get dressed, too. But she didn’t have the energy to move even a single pinkie toe.

  Glancing over her shoulder at a still-naked Aspen, Tora slid open a dresser drawer. “Boxers or sweats?”

  “Boxers.”

  “T-shirt or tank top.”

  “Tank.”

  Clothes in hand, Tora slid the drawer shut and joined her. “Here,” she said, sliding the shirt over Aspen’s head without hesitation. Aspen pushed her arms through as Tora knelt to place the boxers around her ankles.

  She could barely stand as Tora pulled the boxers up for her. Longing to throw out a clever quip, she came up empty. She had never felt this tired before in her life.

  Tora eased her back down to the bed and pulled the covers around her. “I’m staying with you here tonight. You’ve been through a lot today, and I want to make sure you’re okay.” She went to the closet, took out a sleeping bag, and unrolled it on the floor beside the bed.

  “We can share the bed,” Aspen protested.

  “I’ll be fine on the floor.” Tora clicked off the lamp on the bedside table and climbed inside the sleeping bag. A night-light switched on automatically in the corner.

  As exhausted as she was, Aspen would never be able to fall asleep knowing Tora was on the floor. The doctor needed a good night’s sleep as much as she did. “A lot happened today,” she admitted. “I’d feel better if you were up here beside me.”

  “Fine.” Tora gathered the sleeping bag, walked around to the other side of the bed, and set it on top of the covers. “But we are not spooning.” She climbed inside, and they were both quiet.

  Aspen considered sharing the vision she’d had earlier but decided against it. Things were just starting to feel easy between them. Sharing something like that would only make things weird. Besides, she couldn’t say with any certainly that it was even a vision of the future. Maybe what she saw was the result of an overtired mind after a long day of blessings.

  Fading fast, she reached over and found Tora’s hand. Tora responded to her touch as their fingers slowly entwined. Funny how much had changed between them in the last twenty-four hours. She nodded off, the feel of Tora’s soft, warm skin reassuring against her own.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Tora watched Aspen as she slept, their hands still touching. Each time she tried to loosen her grip and pry her hand away, Aspen would tighten hers and inch closer. After the fifth attempt—with Aspen steadily invading her side of the bed, making an all-out snuggle imminent—Tora finally gave up. Sighing in defeat, she tightened her hand around Aspen’s. That one simple gesture seemed to do the trick. Aspen finally settled in place, and the persistent inching ceased.

  Was holding hands really a big deal? Tora decided it wasn’t that bad in the big scheme of things, not if it provided Aspen with the comfort she so obviously needed right now. There were worse offenses. Like kissing. Kissing was most definitely off-limits. She assured herself their relationship would never get that far.

  Above all else, Aspen needed Tora to be her mentor. She was committed to training Aspen to the very best of her ability. As a Myriad who knew little about the ways of their people, Aspen would have to devote herself entirely to learning and making up for lost time.

  Tora had feared Aspen’s first attempt to shift would be catastrophic, but her shapeshifting was spot-on. The features of each animal were exquisite, not carbon copies of the animals she’d seen. Aspen had woven her own colors and details into each animal like a gifted artist. First-time shifting was usually sloppy, unimpressive, even comical at times. Fledgling Shrouds needed time, practice, and experience to perfect the details of their primary animal. Aspen, however, had nailed each one her first time out of the gate. Was this typical for Myriads, or was Aspen just particularly adept at shifting? Tora had no way of knowing. She wished she could find more information on Myriads to better prepare them both. But they’d have to make do with what little they had for now.

  Her mind was finally starting to quiet when she remembered the scars on Aspen’s stomach. Aspen had chosen to tell her the truth about how they got there. That type of honesty took courage. Not privy to the details of Aspen’s life in foster care, Tora could only imagine how bad it must’ve been to decide that living on the streets would be better. Skye’s story bore an uncanny resemblance to Aspen’s, which, she now realized, accounted for their instant connection.

  With everything that had happened in the last twenty-four hours, Skye’s suicide attempt had taken a back seat. Tora would make a point of checking in with the girl tomorrow. She was glad Skye had someone she could trust, someone who’d gone through what she did.

  She studied Aspen’s thick dark eyebrows and silky black hair. She’d always wondered what it would be like to wake up and not have to battle with her curls every morning. Confident Aspen was sleeping deeply, she reached over with her free hand and swept Aspen’s hair aside. High cheekbones, full lips, and a refined nose rested on a broad moon-shaped face. Even in sleep, Aspen’s beauty was spellbinding.

  She took a deep breath, bracing herself for whatever lay ahead. Despite her efforts to the contrary, her feelings for this Myriad were deepening.

  * * *

  Timothy Decker looked up from his early morning breakfast as Finkleman rapped lightly on the Oval Office door and stepped inside. “General Vickers is on the line, sir.”

  Tim had personally appointed Vickers as head of the SEA. It was a well-known fact that Vickers was an extremist in his views on Shrouds and a ruthless sonofabitch when it came to managing their numbers. All in all, the perfect man for the job.

  He set his fork down, took a swig of orange juice, and pressed a button to take the call. With the
intel from Finkleman, he’d reached out to Vickers, asking him to oversee the annihilation of the sanctuary and everything in it.

  “Morning, Mr. President.”

  “What do you have for me, General?”

  “We’re still getting a layout of the underground nest, sir.”

  He didn’t care about operational logistics. He just wanted it gone. “Have you come up with a plan to destroy it?”

  “That’s what I called to talk to you about, sir. The infestation appears to be extensive. Extreme pest control measures are needed.”

  Tim leaned back in his chair. He liked where this was heading. “What do you have in mind?”

  “So far as we can tell, the nest has its own air supply and ventilation system. This is the perfect opportunity to test Z-23 in the field, sir.”

  “The nerve agent?”

  “Affirmative.”

  The things Tim valued most about himself were his decisive nature and his unflinching ability to take action when others around him hesitated. “Do it,” he said. He ended the call with a press of a button, anxious to get back to his meal.

  * * *

  Aspen sat up in bed and glanced at the time on the bedside clock: 5:41 a.m. Tora was there beside her. Even in sleep, she looked radiant. One hand was tucked under her cheek, the other wrapped snugly around the sleeping bag. Her golden locks spilled across the pillow and reached out enticingly. Aspen found herself wondering what it would be like to run her fingers through Tora’s hair.

  Tora stirred, opened her eyes, and looked up. “How long have you been awake?”

  Aspen watched the digital clock as it changed to 5:42 a.m. “Thirty seconds longer than you.”

  Tora sat up and stretched. Her curls were pointing in every possible direction.

  “Your curls…” she said, trying hard not to smile. “There are more of them. And they look very angry.”