Remnants: A dark urban fantasy (Shifter Chronicles Book 2)

by Melle Amade

  “Check it out.” He pulls up his collar, crosses his feet, and smoothly spins to show me how the gold design covers half his back. “Tonight, I’m dangerous.” He grins as he turns back around and squints one eye at me. “You know, more dangerous than usual.”

  His moves lighten my mood. There’s enough pressure without freaking out about Iona. “You look ridiculously amazing.”

  “Why, thank you very much.” Roman drops his chin and raises his eyebrows at Aiden and Callum. “You two are going to have to use all your titles to catch the ladies tonight, cuz I’ve got all the swagger.”

  “You’ve always got all the swagger.” Callum throws an affectionate nod to Roman.

  “You girls don’t look so bad either.” Roman’s gaze rove over all three of us with an warm smile.

  “They look stunning,” Aiden says, careful to not look at any one of us too long. He’s already the diplomatic young ruler.

  Still, a lightness suddenly fills me as if Perrier is bubbling inside me. It’s been a tough few weeks for us, but never has there been a moment when we have all been dressed to go out together, in public. As I look at each of them, I’m filled with effervescence.

  “It’s time,” Balthazar snaps shut his pocket watch.

  Zan leaps over to me and gives me a quick hug. “You’re going to do just fine.”

  I smile back confidently. “I know.”

  Iona looks up at Callum with lights shining in her eyes. Zan returns to Aiden’s side. Even though been struggling recently, her face is glowing. She’s ready to enjoy tonight. I slip my arm through Roman’s as two liveried doormen pull open the doors to the ballroom.

  I can’t see the room below, but a trumpet blares and Lord Van Arend’s voice rings out. “Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the Muiderkring West debut.” The air fills with applause, but quickly quiets. “It has been many years since this hall has seen a debut.”

  I realize I’m holding my breath, but Lord Van Arend’s voice, despite his recent weakness, is strong and true as he speaks to his people.

  “Recently this Muiderkring has seen some turbulent times, but shifters are resilient and loyal. We have bonds that have been hewn from the beginning of time and secured with our words, actions, and blood. These bonds, as we can see from the unity displayed here, tonight, hold true.”

  My gaze inadvertently goes to Iona, but her chiseled features don’t move. She stares straight forward at the blood-red walls of the ballroom. Callum clasps her hand, which is looped through his arm. My stomach clenches, and I look away.

  “Tonight is not the night to dwell in the past. Tonight is the night to celebrate our future. Tonight is the night I officially invite you to welcome the newest shifters. Welcome to our midst, Shae Bradfield and Roman Da Costa.”

  Applause rings out from the crowd below. This is it. I smile nervously at Roman, but his arm is steady under my hand. I reach down and lift the front of my skirt, and we step through the doors. We pause for a moment, looking at the packed ballroom. Men and women in ball-gown finery fill the room, many of them dressed in black. The Ravensgaard. But there are also russet, greens, yellows, reds, golds and oranges, a sea of color and textures.

  Roman gently ushers me forward. We are first because we are the least important. I’m so intent on watching my careful progress down the steps that I don’t look around the room for Dad. Callum had argued fiercely against him coming, but he’d insisted and apparently gotten Lord Van Arend to command it. But Roman has a firm grip on my hand, and we make it safely to the bottom of the grand stairs. He leads me over to where El Oso stands next to Lord Van Arend on the dais. I curtsy and Roman bows.

  As I rise, I gaze into El Oso’s eyes, and I’m grateful I don’t have to swear fealty directly to him. I’m not sure I could. There’s something hungry and menacing in the depths of his flat grey eyes, as if he would ask you to kill a child if he needed it done. But apparently, it’s enough that I’m sworn to Callum, he’s sworn to Van Arend, and Van Arend is sworn to the Order. Though, Aiden must have to renew the oath when he takes over for his father. I have no idea how he’s going to do that, but it is what he’s been trained to do—follow the rules and take over.

  We’re ushered to the side and separated so I’m on the left of the dais and Roman is to the right.

  “My shifter brethren,” Lord Van Arend says.

  I’d been so entranced with El Oso I hadn’t thought to see how Aiden’s dad is doing. He sits on the Kortsrijk, the High Seat of Muiderkring West, back straight and eagle eyes sweeping across the crowd, warm and all-encompassing. It’s only in the grip of his hands, his knuckles white on the armrest, that I can see he uses all his strength to hold it together and make it through our debut.

  “Many of you have recently joined us as permanent residents of Topanga. Initially, when you first arrived, that was not your intention.” Lord Van Arend smiles benignly at the audience.

  El Oso also peers at the audience, but not in the same way. It’s almost as if he’s gauging the Ravensgaard to see if there are dissenters among them. I might be making that up, but Patch and Polaris scan the crowd in the same way. Lady Heather gazes with disinterest at one of the many priceless paintings that line the blood red walls.

  “But if there is one thing I have learned in my life, chaos and destruction leads to the opportunity for regeneration, growth, and stronger bonds. Never have I seen this achieved more quickly or fully than over the past weeks. Today, the Ravensgaard strength is undisputed. Their loyalty and bond is proven by the presence in Topanga of Iona Murtagh and our new Ridder, Callum Murtagh.”

  A huge cheer, raucous and loud, rises from the Ravensgaard as Callum and Iona step forward at the top of the stairs. They are stunning and regal together, surveying the cheering Ravensgaard. Callum has a slight smile on his face, serious but light. Iona, however, is beaming. She walks down the stairs with ease and grace, smiling out to the crowd, identifying different individuals with a brief nod. Each step she takes on the stairs is confident, without even looking where she is going.

  El Oso’s eyes narrow as he gazes at Iona. He crooks his finger towards Polaris, who leans in to hear El Oso’s question. Polaris nods succinctly, his blue eyes pointedly eying Iona as she curtseys and says something only El Oso can hear. Iona takes her place between me and the dais, while Callum moves to the space next to Roman.

  Lord Van Arend addresses the crowd again. “It has been a long, long time since there has been a Debut that included a youth from the Van Arend line. However, these will be the youth that lead your ranks and will be the future of Muiderkring West. I am grateful that my son and Heir has the support of all of you. He will also have the service of Zan Matteson. So, ladies and gentlemen of the Order and Muiderkring West, raise your voices for Lord Aiden Van Arend, Heir to the Kortsrijk of Muiderkring West.”

  The crowd expectantly turns their attention to the top of the stairs as if to welcome the crown prince and his regal princess. There is hushed excitement as we all wait.

  Then Zan and Aiden are there, looking every bit the part of royalty, and the crowd erupts. It’s not the raucous cheering that the Ravensgaard gave Callum and Iona. It’s a three-cheer salute that one would give their Royal Prince. As they walk down the stairs, I am cheering with them even though it’s a bit odd for me. I wasn’t born to this. Even though I’m still different, still awkward, and still hoping I can get through this without anybody noticing. Still, in this moment, I cheer for Zan and Aiden.

  Aiden and Zan present themselves before El Oso.

  Lord Van Arend smiles, looking relieved as his back relaxes. He has made it through this part of the formal presentation, but there is more. He pushes himself off the Kortsrijk and stands proud. Stepping before El Oso he bows to one knee and kisses El Oso’s proffered ring.

  “El Oso, Muiderkring West renews its fealty to you and the Order. We will abide by the rules and laws as agreed to by the Constitution of the Order, and we will be at the service of the Order for all f
uture time. These youth, the newest shifters of Muiderkring West, will serve the Order with all of their life and worldly goods.”

  My heart sinks at these words. I knew it was coming. The renewal of the vow is a part of the debut and necessary, especially after Murtagh’s revolt against Lord Van Arend. I’m linked into a chain that is committed to this tyrannical ruler.

  Van Arend stands and raises the ceremonial cup to El Oso, drinking deeply before he hands it to the Grand Master of the Order.

  The music starts and the dancing begins. I had a hard-enough time practicing my shifting without learning the formal ballroom steps that every member of the Muiderkring seems to know. Zan, Aiden, Iona, and Callum join in the dancing, but when Roman motions me to the floor, I shake my head.

  “Go and find the food,” I whisper. “I’m going to find my dad.”

  “I like that idea.” Roman grins. “I don’t want to be showing up the Heir and Ridder during their big debut.”

  I move my gaze around the party—the dancers, the talking, eating, drinking shifters. The bears. It seems as if there are many more bears in the room than I remember from yesterday or before. It takes me a moment, but then I see Dad. He’s by the marble fireplace. He must’ve borrowed some clothes from the Van Arends, he’s looking so dapper. Even his wild, long, bushy, Australian surfer hair is pulled back in a small knot at the base of his neck.

  He is staring pensively at the fire when I walk up and gently touch his arm. When he sees me, his face breaks out in a sunshine grin, and he pulls me tight in a hug of pure joy. “You’re just the most beautiful creature that ever walked the earth.”

  “You scrub up pretty good, too, Dad.” I kiss him on the cheek returning his smile.

  “Congratulations on your debut!” A tall woman in a green silk dress decorated with feathers joins us.

  “Thank you.” I smile and bow my head, not quite sure how one responds to that.

  “Is this your daughter?” she asks, smiling coquettishly at Dad.

  “Yes.” Dad nods, his smile a little forced.

  “How long have you lived in Topanga?” the woman asks.

  “About sixteen years,” Dad responds. “We came here when my wife was pregnant.”

  I whip my head from the woman’s festooned baubles and high-pitched voice to stare at Dad. What the heck? It just struck me. He’s talking with an Irish accent.

  “I see. Called to help the Van Arend’s, I suppose.” She smiles.

  “Something like that.” Dad nods. Clearly, he doesn’t want to be in this conversation.

  “Can we get something to eat?” I interrupt.

  “Sure, love.” He grins gratefully.

  “If you’ll excuse us.” I curtsy ever so slightly to the woman and loop my hand through Dad’s arm to let him lead us. “Irish?” I whisper to him when we’ve moved far enough away.

  “Don’t want to stand out in the crowd.” He winks at me.

  “Yeah, I know what you mean.” I frown. With a bit of luck tonight will go perfectly and the challenges between shifting between a dove and a raven will be over.

  “Just eat, Shae. And stay relaxed.”

  I grab a plate and move mindlessly down the lavish table full of chopped meats, ancient cheese, grilled salmon and caviar, picking a few odd items to put on my plate.

  “But what if-”

  “You can waste a lifetime worrying about ‘what ifs,’” Zaragoza sidles up to us.

  “Did you figure it out?” I exclaim, grabbing his arm. This shifter that used to frighten me now feels like my only hope.

  If I wasn’t so on edge I’d be more incredulous about his attire. Tonight, he’s wearing a formal, long black smock. It’s still made of simple material, but around his shoulders is draped a gold cord. Without a word, he hands me a small satchel the size of a quarter. It’s a black silk pouch threaded and knotted at the top. I hold it, but I’m not sure what to do with it.

  “Tuck it in,” he says, motioning his hand over his own chest and I get it. It goes in my cleavage.

  “Is this it?” My voice is loud with excitement.

  “Shhhhh,” Dad cautions.

  Zaragoza shakes his head. “No, but it should calm your nerves.”

  “I don’t need to calm my nerves,” I say. “I need to control this-” I break my words off suddenly as Zaragoza gazes pointedly around the room.

  The bears are stationed at intervals in the ballroom, not taking part in the festivities, but watching the crowd instead. Periodically, they turn, looking over at me. My stomach squeezes. There is no way I can eat anything. I put my plate on the nearest cocktail table. Dad moves next to me, smiling and puts a piece of salmon in his mouth.

  “See you out there,” Zaragoza bows and leaves.

  Suddenly the crowd is moving, following Van Arend and El Oso out of the ballroom and on to the terrace. It’s time for us to shift. I take a big gulp of air. Am I prepared? Can I do this?

  Roman is at my side in a flash, looping his hand through my elbow. “It’s going to be a piece of cake,” he whispers.

  I’m not sure about that, but what choice do I have now? We follow the crowd, led by Van Arend and El Oso, out to the terrace where they line up on the perimeter, leaving us alone at one end facing Lord Van Arend and El Oso at the other. I run through the instructions in my head.

  Shift.

  Bow to El Oso.

  Shift into a Raven.

  I must get it right.

  The evening air isn’t cold, but I clench my jaw to keep my teeth from chattering.

  “I’ll go first,” Roman says.

  He moves to the center of the empty terrace, smiling broadly. He bows to El Oso, and now I see what his moves upstairs were for; this moment. With a little more flourish and clearly some Michael Jackson inspiration, he does a moonwalk, followed by pulling up his collar, crossing his feet, and spinning. By the time he is facing El Oso again, he is in his frog form.

  I don’t think I realized quite what a jumper he is. He props himself up on his front feet, bows his head and presses it to the floor in front of El Oso. He takes a hop back and shifts back into his human form.

  I swallow. Now it’s my turn. I wish I had more seniority and could go later, but that’s not going to happen. Zan holds my hand. On my left is Zaragoza. He looks as if he’s had a couple of drinks.

  He murmurs to himself, and his casting sticks click so softly it’s barely audible. He gives me an encouraging nod and presses his hand against his chest. The satchel against my neck chills.

  I hold Zan’s hand a little tighter, even though this is the moment I must let go. What if I let go forever? What if something goes wrong and I shift into a dove? I’m too nervous to be angry right now. The raven is activated by the ice warrior and darkness. Holding Zan’s hand isn’t helping. I have to let go of heat and love, even for just a minute.

  “You’ve got this,” Zan says as I rip my hand away.

  I glance at Callum, Aiden, and Roman, all looking at me with love and encouragement. This isn’t going to help.

  It’s Zaragoza. He can truly support me through this. Even now he glares at me and I am reminded of the death of his wife, the death of his daughter. His magic pulls on me as my body chills. Two birds, raven and dove struggle against each other inside me. But the time is now. I must shift. There’s no waiting.

  I pull up my skirts. My gaze moves to El Oso. He is a tyrant who keeps his people, all of them not just Lady Heather, in slavery. Ice-white rage pours over me, dropping from the crown of my head like an avalanche and tumbling into every cell of my body. It crackles into my arms, down my torso, and into my legs. A primal scream rises from within me, and I race at El Oso.

  My body shifts and shrinks, feathers form, and I fly like an arrow straight at El Oso’s face. I am raven. Frozen blackness plates my heart as I shriek in delight. I’m going to take out his eyes and claw the smile off his face. My talons are outstretched and ready to land.

  I’m just feet from El Oso and abo
ut to taste his blood. With an earth-shattering roar Polaris shifts into his bear self and launches at me. We’re hurling towards each other and I have no way to stop. I’m going to land in his teeth. He’ll snap my neck.

  A flash of gold and brown drops before me. Aiden has shifted. I pull my wings back, shrieking, but we lock talons. I’m no match for him as he drops me to the terrace, holding down my neck with his beak.

  What have I done?

  My body shifts, and I’m lying in my ball gown, hair sprawled in brown waves all around me. Aiden straddles me, lifting his head from my neck.

  The terrace is deathly silent as Aiden stands and pulls me to my feet and, with his hand pressing into my back, reminds me to bow. We wait, bowing, before El Oso, who stares silently at us. He hasn’t moved a muscle, even as I flew at him full of aggression. He has bodyguards and fully expects to be protected.

  I tried to attack El Oso.

  My skin heats up.

  “She hasn’t had the full training,” Aiden says.

  I stare at the ancient stones of the terrace. My knees shake and my lips quiver. What have I done?

  In the stunned silence of the shifters, we all wait. And then…a deep chuckle comes from El Oso. He is grinning and smiling.

  “She will make a great Ravensgaard when she is trained,” he says. “Thank you for protecting me, Heir. For a moment, I thought my boys had forgotten their jobs.” He nods towards the Patch and Polaris, who do not look nearly as amused.

  My hair is loose and wild, my face flushed as I move to the side, hoping I can make it through the rest of the ball. I stand there burning red, but suddenly see Shanahan and Iona, side-by-side, both with gleams of respect in their eyes. Maybe I’m more Ravensgaard than I realized.

  12

  Nothing.

  I stare hopelessly at the ancient, leather-bound book. It takes two hands to lift it to the ever-growing stack of ‘useless.’ I survived the debut, but unless we can find the binding spell, it won’t matter much.

  After I nearly attacked El Oso last night, I hadn’t felt much like partying. Dad and I had gotten out of there as quickly as possible. Apparently Zan and Roman had also. Aiden had escorted his father from the party and Roman had driven Zan home shortly after that. Callum and Iona had remained to represent the debutantes. Rumor has it Iona made some sort of a scene about Callum, but I didn’t get the details. Tension drives through my hands as I clench my fists. I can’t think about Iona or Callum or what’s going on with them. It’s got nothing to do with my biggest problem. How do I stop this disease from killing me?