by T J Nichols
“Why don’t you turn the key and drive us out of here,” Mack said.
Jude didn’t need to be asked twice, but it took two goes for him to get the truck into reverse. He did a messy five-point turn and drove out of North as fast he thought was safe. Mack watched out the back. Jude was pretty sure that Mack would’ve told him to floor it if the aufhockers were following.
He gripped the steering wheel, and his gaze darted to the rearview mirror. As twilight faded to night, the shadows deepened. The eyes remained like fixed stars in the dark. He was never going to sleep again while he was in Mercy.
Did those things have his scent? Could they now hunt him? He tried to recall everything he’d read about aufhockers. There hadn’t been much, except they were hard to kill. ‘Hard to kill’ rolled around his head. No one had been able to kill them when they’d obliterated North, so they’d been put to sleep.
When North was well behind them, Mack turned and faced forward. “At least we know what is killing the cows.”
“You don’t realize how bad that is.”
Mack lifted his paws. “Really? I have no idea? I don’t have opposable thumbs!”
That was another problem. “I’ll take you home.”
“Yeah.” Mack tipped his head back against the headrest. “Then we need to make a plan.”
“What plan? There is no plan. We can’t take on two aufhockers. They can’t be killed.”
“Everything can be killed,” Mack said with a voice that chilled Jude. “We just have to find a way.”
Jude bit his lip. “It might be better to call the Coven.”
“The Coven sent you to deal with this.”
Jude winced. He couldn’t hide the truth any longer, not if he wanted to live. Living was more important than magic. “This is a test, and I’m sure they want me to fail.” He could feel Mack’s gaze drilling into him. “I have to prove I can protect the paranormal community and not just put it in danger.”
“What do you mean?” Mack said through clenched teeth.
“I mean I’m a fuck up. I’ve put people in danger because I can’t control my magic. I hurt you. Look at your hands.”
“I don’t think the shock you gave me did this. What do you mean they want you to fail, and if you do, then what?”
“Then they strip my magic. They make me human. If I don’t have magic, you’ll be free.” He deliberately kept his on gaze the road. “You won’t have to petition the Coven.” The first house came into view, then they were on the main street.
“Get your things from the motel, then we’ll go to my place. I don’t think splitting up is a good idea. Two of them and two of us.”
“You still want to help?”
“I don’t want those things intruding on my town, and I don’t think you deserve to have your magic stripped. So we’ll find a way to kill those things. Although you might have to do the typing.” Mack flexed his claws. They glinted in the streetlights.
Jude was never what he’d have called an animal person. Cat’s shed and dogs…were…well, doggy. He had no idea what bears were, but they were not pets. Those claws would tear through him like a fork through raw mince, though the cinnamon-brown fur that covered those clawed dinner plates was a rather fetching shade. However, he didn’t think Mack would appreciate the compliment right now.
Jude pulled into the motel and parked out the front of his room. “Um, I’ll only be a few minutes.”
“Minutes? People can’t see me like this.”
“I have to empty the wardrobe.” He hadn’t thought he’d be leaving the motel in a hurry.
“Of course you do.” Mack didn’t sound impressed.
Jude glanced at Mack’s paws. If someone he knew came by, things would get awkward. And Jude was sure that people would recognize the truck. “I’ll just get a change and sort the rest out tomorrow.”
Mack grew his lips back into something close to a smile. “Good thinking.”
Jude figured he had sixty seconds before Mack slid into the driver’s seat and tried to drive home with paws. He got out and didn’t waste a single second, throwing a change of clothes and his toiletries into his bag. When he came out, the truck was still there, and the engine was still running. Mack’s face had lost the edge, and he stared at his lap, and most likely what should be his hands, with naked panic.
Jude’s confidence faltered.
Then Mack glanced up, and the mask returned. Jade tried to paste on a smile and a go-get-’em attitude. He didn’t convince himself. They were fucked.
He got into the truck and pulled out of the lot. “Are you okay?”
“Dandy. I was trying to get my hands back.”
That clearly hadn’t worked. “Nothing else has shifted?”
Mack didn’t answer him. “Turn left up here. Keep going until you pass the blue barn then hang a right. It’s the white house with the red letterbox. You can’t miss it.”
That was because the letterbox had been created from the rear end of what had once been a red VW beetle.
Jude pulled into the driveway and parked. So this was where Mack lived, and somehow he’d agreed to stay the night. He glanced at Mack’s paws. He’d never wanted to be touched less.
They got out without a word. Jude locked the truck and unlocked the house for Mack.
Mack’s annoyance shimmered off him. “I’m going to have a shower and try to fix this.”
“Do you need a hand?” Jude asked even though he had no idea what kind of help Mack would need.
“Do I look like I’m five?” He stomped upstairs.
Jude locked the door and drew the curtains. He put his bag in the sitting room. There were pictures on the walls of what Jude guessed were Mack’s parents and a much younger Mack. This was Mack’s parents’ house. Not his. That explained the floral print sofa.
“Can you come up here?” Mack called, the snarl still in his words. “Please.”
Jude jogged up the stairs. Mack’s shirt was ripped, and it was clear he’d had a go at the belt.
“Do not say anything,” Mack growled. The bear in him was close to the surface, his eyes catching light and flashing copper.
Jude carefully undid the rest of the buttons before helping him out of what was left of his shirt. The undershirt came off next. Despite Mack’s paws and the thick hair that extended up to Mack’s elbows, Jude’s heart did a little tumble of excitement. He wanted to let his fingers linger over the contours of Mack’s abs. His knuckles may have grazed Mack’s belly as he undid the belt and button on Mack’s jeans—much like he’d done that morning. His tongue darted over his lip, and he made the mistake of looking up and catching Mack’s gaze.
“I’m showering alone.”
“I didn’t say anything.” His voice betrayed him. Mack knew what he’d been thinking.
“You didn’t need to.” Mack lifted a paw.
Jude stepped back, and the moment fractured like a mirror under a boot.
“I can do the rest.” He dragged the zipper on his fly down with a claw to prove the point.
Jude wasn’t brave enough to ask how he was going to unlace his boots.
Mack shut the bathroom door. It was a few breaths before he turned on the light. He stared at himself in the mirror. No other part of him had changed except for his hands. He didn’t even remember that happening. He remembered the shock when Jude’s magic had arced up and flowed through him, then his legs had gone. His hands must’ve changed then. He held them up to examine them more closely. They were most definitely his paws.
There were tales of shifters who’d accidentally gotten caught in a partial shift forever. That didn’t stop some from attempting to master the partial shift. Mack had never bothered to even try. He wished he had, even though his parents had always warned of the dangers and disapproved of the concept.
Half man, half bear. A monster.
He had to fix this. He couldn’t live like this.
He closed his eyes and drew up the energy. It flowed through him as
it should, like it had in the car when he’d tried. But he couldn’t bring his hands back to their human form. He couldn’t breathe. He didn’t want to be stuck like this. He’d seen the fear in Jude’s eyes. There was no way he could explain this to the people of Mercy. There would be no place for him in this town. He’d have to become a hermit.
He didn’t want to be a hermit. He wanted to live his life.
Carefully, he tugged down his jeans. The denim ripped as it caught on a claw, and he cursed. It had been bad enough asking Jude for help with the shirt. He should’ve shredded it and been done with it. With his jeans down, he didn’t even bother untying his shoelaces. He severed them with a claw and kicked his boots off, so he could finish stripping.
His heart beat quickened as he drew up the shifting energy again. It rolled up his spine in a wave of heat. Instead of trying to change his hands, he changed himself. The shift washed over him with a groaning of bones and a prickling of fur, and he hoped he wouldn’t get stuck as a bear.
When he looked up, a bear stared back at him in the mirror. He hadn’t shifted in the bathroom since he was a teen trying out his new ability. He turned a little to admire himself. He was bigger than he’d been back then. He growled, and the sound filled the bathroom and echoed off the walls. His mouth dropped open in what passed for a smile.
He was stalling. Afraid that he wouldn’t be able to shift back, or when he did his hands would remain paws. He huffed out a couple of breaths and wished he was outside so he could go for a run. Any excuse to not shift again. He’d always hated shifting between forms rapidly. It was tiring and painful. Until the aufhockers were gone, it probably wouldn’t be a good idea to go camping anyway. He sighed, a sound that was too human for a bear. Tonight wasn’t a good night to be out and about. He’d never forget those odd glowing eyes or the smell.
With a final scratch and shake, he prepared to shift back to human. He closed his eyes.
Bones and tendons and muscles realigned with a grinding and popping that sounded as bad as it felt. His skin burned and itched from the two quick shifts, but when he carefully curled his fingers, they were fingers. He stared at his hands, and relief swept through him. He closed his eyes and ran his fingers through his hair. He wasn’t even tempted to try a partial shift again.
Mack padded downstairs. He’d put on track pants and a long-sleeved T-shirt. And while he felt better now that he was all human again, the tension lingered. He was in new and dangerous territory with Jude, yet his heart gave a little leap when he saw the back of the witch’s head.
Jude was on the sofa staring at his laptop. Mack couldn’t see what he was reading. Hopefully it was something about how to kill aufhockers—which still sounded like a swear word to him. Mack drew in a breath. He shouldn’t be happy to see Jude. It was because of the witch, and the bond, that he’d gotten stuck with paws.
The bond let magic flow between them, increasing and changing their abilities. What he’d read hadn’t gone into detail, maybe because it depended on the pairing. Mack had no doubt that the bond had caused the partial shift. And while he knew they planned on getting rid of it once the beasts were dealt with, letting it strengthen would also be a mistake because then it would be harder to break. The more the magic, and lust, flowed between them, the harder it would be when this ended.
There could be no repeat of what had happened in his workshop no matter how tempting.
Jude glanced over his shoulder and smiled. Wariness tightened the corners of his eyes.
Before Jude could speak, Mack held up his hands. “All human again.”
The smile widened, and it would’ve been too easy to take a few steps and lean over the back of the sofa and kiss him. That was the bond tugging on the desire that was simmering in his belly and wanting him to act.
He took a step forward, wanting to feel Jude’s lips on his, to taste the magic again. His fingers curled, and he looked away. He needed to keep his distance instead of reveling in the lust. Jude hadn’t been totally honest about the Coven, so what else could he have lied about? Or omitted?
With determined steps, Mack sat in the armchair to the left of Jude instead of next to him on the sofa. He didn’t glance at Jude because he knew there would be a hurt in his green eyes.
“I’ve been reading up on aufhockers,” Jude said. “They can be killed, but because they can change size, they are hard to hold. And they have strong jaws, claws and so on.”
“What’s ‘and so on’? Are they size-changing animals, or do they also have magic?” And there were two of them, which gave Mack all kinds of bad feelings about baby aufhockers. Animals didn’t pair up for card games or knitting circles. They got together for breeding and hunting, and this pair had the latter down pat. “How many is in a litter?”
Jude stared at him. “A litter?”
Mack made the mistake of meeting Jude’s gaze. He was not attracted to fancy-boot-wearing witches. That was a lie and had been from the moment he’d first noticed Jude, before he’d known Jude was a witch, but he wanted it to be true so he could blame everything he felt on the magic. His heart beat a little faster, and he wanted to get up and sit on the sofa. He wasn’t used to swimming in attraction. Usually what happened didn’t extend beyond the night, or less. The casual conversation they were having about magic and shifting was unnerving yet liberating. He’d never been able to share even a tenth of this with anyone outside of his family.
If he moved, he could read the screen, and it would be quicker than having Jude relay him information. He should move. But he didn’t trust himself. He’d have happily shared his shower with Jude if he’d had hands not paws. Mack leaned back in the armchair. He was not getting any closer. “They could be a breeding pair, picking up where they left off when they scared off the residents of North.”
Jude paled. “Does that mean they already have babies, or is one of them pregnant?”
“I didn’t get close enough to do a medical exam. How about I call the vet to check them out?” Except the vet had fled. She’d known what the creature was.
“I haven’t read anything about babies, or mating habits.” Jude returned his attention to the screen, his fingers flying over the keyboard at a speed Mack couldn’t hope to match even with fingers. Jude scowled at the screen. “There’s nothing here about baby aufhockers.”
“Are you on the dark coven site?” The hairs on his arms lifted.
“Yes, and the Coven database, too. There’s actually more than one dark—”
Mack held up his hand and tilted his head. There was someone outside. Or something. Jude started to crackle. Electricity danced over his skin and flared in his eyes. God, it was beautiful. And painful. Mack wouldn’t make the mistake of getting too close when Jude was like that again. Without a sound, Mack got up and moved toward the front door. Fortunately, it was locked. Jude must have done it while Mack had been busy thinking about his paws.
The scent of sulfur and death and rotting meat seeped under the door. He’d never forget the smell of aufhocker as long as he lived. Somehow those things had tracked them. He’d brought the creatures through town to his place. Fear like ice slid through his veins.
Claws tapped on the wooden porch as the creature paced. The faintest sound that human ears wouldn’t notice. The creature, or was it both, knew they were in the house. Mack twitched the curtain to peek out. An animal the size of a medium dog, but as black as coal, was out there. It didn’t even look that terrifying. Then it turned, and the glowing yellow eyes landed directly on Mack.
The shadows around the aufhocker swelled, and it grew and grew until it was the size of a small horse. Its mouth opened, revealing sharp teeth for biting the throat of the victim. The jaw was a massive vise that could crush bones and shoulders and would have no trouble battering through the solid wood of the front door. The aufhocker stepped up close to the glass.
Blue fire flashed in front of the window, and the creature danced back, shrinking with every pace. The other one appeared beside it,
then they became lost in the night. The blue fire didn’t vanish.
“I thought it might be a good idea to stop it before it broke in.”
“Yeah. Though that’ll be hard to explain to the neighbors.” Mack pointed at the blue fire.
“Only if your neighbors aren’t human. It’s a protection circle. I’ll leave it up until morning.”
“I know what it is.” He could feel it on his skin, sealing them in.
His neighbors were human, as human as they came. A family with five kids and an elderly couple on the other side. Were they all inside and safe?
They’d brought the aufhockers here. How would he explain them to the neighbors? Stray dogs? That was all he really could say, and he’d only say that if they mentioned it first, or should he warn them to stay in because he’d seen some strays? He didn’t want the kids getting hurt. Jude and Mack would have to lead the aufhockers away. If the creatures wanted them, they could set a trap.
Jude’s hand traced up Mack’s back. Mack closed his eyes, aching to turn into the caress. If one of them died while hunting these creatures, the other would die. The bond didn’t break with death. That warning had been burned into his brain. Did Jude realize the seriousness of what they were playing with?
“We should eat and get some rest.” Jude was so close, all Mack had to do was take half a step back and they’d be touching. His body thrummed with adrenaline and tension.
“I’m not hungry.” He should eat after shifting, but the scent of the aufhocker was still in his nose, and fear kept his stomach tight. He turned to face Jude. As much as he wanted to close the gap and kiss him, he couldn’t. It had been foolish to do anything. “The guest bedroom is down the hallway. The bathroom is opposite, but there’s no shower. So if you want one, you’ll have to come upstairs.” He glanced up. He was such a coward.
Jude regarded him with a cool stare. He took that half a step, so they were chest to chest, but he didn’t lean in for a kiss.