Shifters Gone Wild; Collection

by Skye MacKinnon

  I hugged Grampa, then dealt with getting the table set. Sid wrapped her arms around him and sighed as they hugged for a good bit, then released him to go stir the stew. Once we put the food on the table and poured the coffee and water, all three of us sat down and just looked at each other.

  “You two look really good,” Grampa said. “I’ve missed you.”

  “Forgive me for saying this, Grampa,” I said, “But what the hell? You supposedly died fifteen years ago and now you’re sitting here, having a creepy, secret reunion?”

  Sid elbowed me and gave me her patented WTF look, then turned to Grampa. “He’s right, Grampa. Secretive and back from the dead is kind of creepy. What happened? Why now? How can we help you?”

  “Your phones?” he asked.

  “In our rooms, in drawers,” I said. Sid nodded.

  Grampa started dishing up food for each of us as he spoke. “You already know how just after the Species War ended, I got together with Marcel Fortin to set up the Academy and then later, integrated it with the police department to create the Supernatural Police. If we’d had the SPD before, there’s a good chance we never would have ended up in a war.”

  “What was it that started the war?” Sid asked.

  “A death of a million cuts. No, I’m serious. It was a lot of little things. Little things kept building up and stacking up until it blew up in a street fight. An argument at a taco truck ended up with fourteen dead and nearly twenty more injured. If we’d had the SPD to break it up when it started, or around to diffuse any of the other para specific incidents, then the war would probably never have happened.”

  I’d read about the Taco Truck Terror, as the incident ended up being called in the history books. “But, hasn’t there always been a ruling board for paranormals?”

  “A board, sure. Make some rules, handle some high-level disputes, but no one around to effectively enforce the rules or deal with incidents at the street level. It was fine when there were only five or six paranormal families in the region, but now there are hundreds of paras of all types in Belle Cove and the surrounding areas,” Grampa said.

  I sopped up the gravy from my stew with a bit of bread and chewed while I thought about his words. A sip of water, then I spoke. “Grampa, we’ve been reading the Fortin grimoire, since Mom gave it to Sid a few days ago. Is there information in there we should skip ahead to read?”

  “I’d say so, yes,” he replied. “If Margaret Fraser Fortin wrote in it, there would likely be a lot of good information for you both.”

  “Sounds like you knew Grandma Margaret well?” Sid said.

  Grampa laughed low, gave me a wink, then sipped his coffee.

  I laughed and shook my head, then got up to collect the bowls. “There’s peach cobbler for dessert. Want some?”

  “I’d never turn down Alicia’s cobbler.”

  “Bernie’s daughter, Jolie, made it. She lives with Grandma and helps run the farm,” Sid said.

  Grampa sobered and got the coffee pot to refill our mugs. “I’m glad Alicia has Jolie, you two, and what’s the other one’s name?”

  “Micah. Marie-Sidonie’s son. He moved down south about ten years ago. No one hears from him other than a card at Christmas to Grandma,” Sid said as she brought the warm cobbler topped with vanilla ice cream over to the table.

  “Well, he may be out of the area, but at least he’s not…” Grampa paused, then stuffed a large spoonful of cobbler into his mouth.

  “He’s not what?” I asked.

  You could almost feel the temperature of the room drop as Grampa swallowed his mouthful and looked over at me. “A traitor.”

  “Grampa B, you mean?”

  “Yes. My son-in-law is a traitor. I’m just glad my sweet daughter, Brighid isn’t here to see this day.”

  “What did he do?” Sid asked as she leaned forward, the lawyer in her coming to the fore.

  “A lot of things,” Grampa sighed and took a couple of bites of cobbler washed down with coffee. “I had included James in the running of things from the time he was a young man. When Marcel passed on, I leaned on James to fill the gaps. As with most things viewed in the rear-view mirror, it seemed like a good idea at the time. All I did was invite the snake into the hen house. About five years after Marcel died, James made his play. I had planned a trip to the Isles with Bridie. We had a private plane that the SPD and Academy used together. Two of the instructors were taking five students to London to get specialized training with MI5’s paranormal branch. The plane exploded twenty miles off the coast. I’d been in the cabin with the pilot when the first explosion went off. I wrapped myself in a force field and went back to try and save Bridie, but she’d already been blown out of the plane. Only two of the students remained and as I reached out to grab the closest one, the second explosion detonated.” He reached for his coffee and drained it. I got up and filled it, then reached into the cabinet behind him and pulled out the good whiskey. He added a dose to his coffee and took another swallow. “Thanks, Sin. Anyway, I woke up in the cabin of a fishing boat. They said the Coast Guard had found Bridie and three others’ bodies, but not the rest. All were presumed dead. I paid them well to let people think I had died, too.”

  “Grandma Brighid died in childbirth, as did her daughter, Bridie Walsh Boudreau. They’re buried in the mausoleum in the family plots behind Boudreau Manor.” Sid told him, a hand rested on his forearm. “They said the shock of losing you and Grandma Bridie was too much for her and she went into labor early.”

  “I wasn’t in any condition to protect her, or you two, or anyone else. Brighid was too old to be pregnant safely, but she lost so many bairns over the years, I understand why she had to try. Shifters can generally carry safely past sixty human years, but Brighid was nearly ninety when she got pregnant with that little girl.”

  I added a shot of whiskey to my cup and took a sip before I spoke. “Why did you come back now?”

  “I’ve been working with your parents for the past three years, once I realized they were on the same path as me. They figured out that James was behind the increase in tensions between paras and the decline of standards at the Academy and started digging. I made them promise not to say anything about me being back. It was my fault they were attacked that morning at your home. Someone had followed me from where I was staying to your parents’ house and tried to kill me. Your parents intervened and I got away, so the attacker took them. He left the message to trade for you, but he intended to lure me out.”

  I watched his hand tremble, so I added more whiskey to the mug he held.

  “Who was it, Grampa?” Sid asked.

  “Your uncle, Brian.”

  “Dad’s brother, Brian?” Sid stared at him. “Are you serious?”

  “Yes, I’m serious. He’s been James’ right hand since James took Marcel’s place.”

  “So, Uncle Brian hurt Mom, nearly killed Dad, and burned our house down?” I said as I tried to process the information. “What the hell?”

  “Wait, Mom’s injuries were magic-based. Brian and Grampa are shifters, not witches,” Sid said.

  “Brian’s girlfriend is a witch,” Grampa said.

  “Someone’s dating that hobbit?” I found it hard to believe someone sincerely liked that moron. He was short, fat, bald, and had bad teeth.

  “It’s probably his money she finds so attractive,” Sid said.

  Grampa reached for the whiskey and poured about half a mug’s worth into his cup.

  “Holy hell, this family is fucked up,” Sid said. “So, is Dad working with you on this mess?”

  “Yes, and Sett. And, I’m hoping the two of you will be on board as well,” Grampa said.

  “Grampa, we’re not even two weeks into Academy training. We don’t know enough to help you,” I said.

  “Let’s see,” Grampa said. “You graduated Summa cum Laude with a Bachelor’s degree in Biology and a minor in Chemistry, while your sister graduated Summa cum Laude with a Bachelor’s degree in Criminal Justi
ce and a minor in Political Science. I’d say you both know quite a bit. I also know that you’ve both spent the last nearly six weeks training your asses off with Sett. So, yes, I think you know enough to help us.”

  “But what about our training program? Are we supposed to stay at the Academy or leave or what?” Sid said.

  “Oh, you’ll be staying in the program and working your fellow classmates to find out which ones are anti-armistice. Any ones you find that are rabid haters of witches, shifters, or any other paras, you let me, or Sett know. Also, after classes, you will go to Sett and she will bring you to me where I’ll work with you on advanced techniques.”

  I leaned back in my chair and looked at my great-grandfather. “To what end?”

  “Now, there’s the question I’ve been waiting for,” Grampa said. “To make you two of the best agents the Academy has ever graduated. Eventually, you two will run the SPD. Sett will run the Academy.”

  Sid

  To say the last two months of Academy training were interesting would be an understatement. The small group of anti-armistice goons that had taken root in the Academy had been almost too easy to find. Being who we are had made us easy targets and therefore made it easy to round them up and get them expelled. Did I think they might band up outside of the Academy? Yeah, I did – but at least they wouldn’t be wearing SPD uniforms. It wasn’t like we rounded them all up and booted them at the same time. We were subtle. Careful. This one got expelled for cheating on a test. That one for failing a physical. Another for drinking in the dorms. That kind of stuff. We couldn’t let on to Lord James what we were doing. And no, he’s not a lordship or anything, that’s just how I’ve been thinking of the man previously known as Grandpa B.

  No, it’s not a secret that I thought he was a misogynistic prick and hated having to do anything around the man, but he is my grandfather and family is family, y’know? Knowing that he didn’t look at family the same way did mitigate that impulse somewhat. A little. Maybe more than a little.

  Losing Grandpa B didn’t truly bother me. Especially since Grampa Walsh had come back to life, so to speak. The first shock was seeing Grampa Walsh alive after believing he’d died with Grams Bridie in the plane crash. The second shock, the one I still needed to finish processing, hit when we learned Lord James was behind the attack on my parents and burning our house down. It took me a good two weeks before the rage didn’t make me want to just go up to him and punch him in the throat.

  Sin had to deal with him instead of me because I just couldn’t. He nearly killed my mother, leaving her a shadow of herself. He tried to kill his own son, my father, by burning down the only home I’d ever known. Gah, just thinking about it now made my blood boil. So, I tightened my gloves and slammed my fists into the bag a few more times. It helped.

  I danced around the bag, hands and feet slamming into it as sweat ran down my face and glued my tank top to my skin. The buzzer sounded to warn cadets that they had thirty minutes until the next class started, but since I was done with classes, I kept going while others headed to the showers. I had about an hour before I had to hook up with Sin and go for our session with Commander Walsh.

  Once the cadets had cleared out, I ended my cool down and headed in for my shower. I pulled on jeans and a t-shirt, then my boots and a hoodie. My bag on the bench, I turned to lock my locker, felt a sharp pain and it was lights out.

  * * *

  I had no idea how long I had been out, or what had taken me down, but the cottony metallic taste in my mouth made me believe I had been drugged. I slowed my breathing and kept my eyes shut, hoping that whoever had done this thought I was still out. My hands were bound to the arms of the chair and my ankles to the front legs. Something wound around my chest, holding me upright against the back of the chair. I felt a pain in the side of my neck, fading as my shifter healing worked its magic. One of Auntie Sett’s lessons had been for just this kind of situation and I did my best to swallow my instinct for fear and focus. I could smell damp stone and dirt. It smelled like the root cellar at the herb farm, damp cinder blocks and a dirt floor. I didn’t hear any movement or breathing that would indicate someone else was in the room with me, but that also could just mean there were cameras. I wiggled a finger and moaned low, then fell silent and still once more.

  Yep, there was a camera. How did I know? I heard someone open the door and step into the room.

  “Wakey, wakey, Abomination. That shifter blood of yours should have healed you enough to be coming around by now,” the very clearly male voice said.

  I just moaned a little and let my head wobble sideways, still keeping my chin to my chest.

  “Oh, that’s right. You’re only half shifter. Your nasty witch blood must’ve weakened your healing abilities.”

  Well, now I knew he was a shifter. That meant I could use magic against him and have the advantage.

  Fingers twisted in my ponytail and pulled my head back, causing me to cry out in pain. My eyes snapped open and I looked up at the face of Lord James’ friend, and my Strategy & Tactics instructor, Robert Angiers. Oh, hell. My belly felt like I’d swallowed frozen rocks. A smile slid across my lips and I widened my eyes. “Well, hello Professor. Fancy meeting you here. Do you come here often?” When in doubt, fall back on sarcasm. Works – most of the time.

  Angiers’ fist jerked my ponytail hard and my neck strained. “What the fuck, Angiers.”

  “Shut up, Abomination. You’re disgusting,” Angiers said, spitting a bit in my face.

  I reverted to my twelve-year-old self with my next comment. “Say it, don’t spray it, Angiers. Your breath? It reeks.”

  The hand not holding my ponytail came up and slapped me so hard my eyes watered, and I bit the inside of my cheek. I sucked in a breath but didn’t yell. Instead, I swallowed the blood and smiled. Most would have spat the blood, but I was a witch. I knew what you could do with someone’s blood and there’s no way I was voluntarily giving him mine.

  “That was fun. So, why am I here?” I said.

  Angiers grinned at me and leaned in to hiss in my ear. “You’re bait.”

  “Ooh, scary. Bait for what?”

  “Who, you moron,” he said. “For your brother or your aunt or whoever else wants to try and rescue your sorry ass.”

  “And you thought of this all by yourself? Stunning.”

  He let go of my hair then and slapped the other side of my face. My head rocked with the blow, but at least the ache in my neck eased up.

  I let out another slow breath, straining a little bit against the bindings on my arms. My fingers were getting dusky as the plastic cable ties were too tight. If I’d been awake, I would’ve flexed my muscles so I would have had some room. Well, ifs weren’t going to get me out of this. Magic might, though. I just had to get rid of Angiers first.

  “Are you the only one here, Angiers? Because I have to pee, and I don’t want you watching me go.”

  “Oh, I’ll see you to the toilet, but there’s no way you can escape anyway. This is a bunker with only one way out.”

  See? Angiers just proved the ‘those who can’t, teach’ adage was correct. “Well, that’s great.” I worked hard to sound discouraged. “Could you please untie me so I can pee before you have a puddle to mop up?”

  Angiers came around to the front of the chair with a pair of wire snips. He stood to one side and cut one arm and one leg, then walked around the back of the chair and cut the others. I got to my feet and stumbled with the sudden rush of blood, then looked back at him. “Where’s the bathroom?”

  He pointed to a door in the far left of the room and I hustled as fast as my tingling limbs allowed. Once inside, I realized how correct the guy was. No windows. A toilet, a sink, and a showerhead with a plastic basin floor and one drain. Looked like the kind of cleanup spot a car mechanic would use, but this one was only about half as nasty as those bathrooms.

  I quickly used the facilities, then ran the water to wash up. Hands, face, the tender spot on my neck then I cu
pped my hands and drank as much as I could hold. The drugs had screwed with me big time and while I was healing, a body still needed food and water to finish the process.

  “What are you doing? Taking a sponge bath in there? Hurry up,” Angiers yelled.

  I found some paper towels and dried off, pulled out my ponytail and quickly braided my hair, then headed back out.

  “Thank you. I feel better now,” I said.

  “I don’t care. Sit back down.”

  “Why? If I can’t get out, why keep me tied up?”

  Angiers gave me this slimy little smile before he spoke. “Because I like seeing you tied up.”

  I did an exaggerated whole-body shiver. “Eww, that’s disgusting. You’re my teacher for fucksake.” The water and time had cleared the last of the drug out of my system. I was ready to pay him back, but I needed skin to skin contact for this to work.

  He stepped close, reached out, and grabbed my jaw. “I’ll be teaching you a lot of things…”

  I’m sure he had more to say, but I took the energy I’d been building, reached up and slapped my hand against the side of his neck. His words ended in a choked cry as his body arched and shook, then hit the floor. The sound of his head thudding on the chair on the way down made me flinch, but at least I knew he was completely out. I searched his pockets, found his cell phone and fresh cable ties. Soon he was hogtied and then tied with a doubled loop to a metal support pole in the middle of the room. I searched him again and found a bunch of keys and his wallet and took those too.

  At the top of the stairs, I carefully pushed the door open and took a look. A room with a cot, a desk, a chair and a laptop monitor that showed Angiers lying on the floor, still tied up. I went over to the computer and with a few keystrokes had the video files dumped to a thumb drive that had been plugged into the side of the laptop. I checked for any other files, moved them to the thumb drive, then put the drive in my pocket. A few more keystrokes and the computer proceeded to delete everything on itself, including the operating system. I closed and locked the door to the downstairs room, then wedged the desk against the door. Worried about what I’d find outside, I slowly opened the metal door and looked out. It was dark and I wondered what time it was until I remembered I had Angiers’ phone. A quick look told me it was after ten, and the gravel lot in front of me was empty but for a dark sedan and weak pole light. I hit the key fob and the car chirped, so at least I knew it was Angiers’ and I had the keys. It didn’t take me long to get in and get the car moving away from wherever the hell I had been. Once I drove out of the lot, I kept going. There was only one way out and I didn’t want to be sitting here, dicking around with the GPS if someone came to check on things. I waited until I saw a road with some traffic on it before I pulled over and got the GPS up and running.