by C. J. Barry
The dimple guy gave her a cocky smirk. “He’s the boss.”
“Yes, he is,” she said. “After all, he got you this far, right? You all owe him. He saved your asses when he found a ship to leave Govan. He crashed the ship on this perfect planet with the perfect race to replicate. I mean, talk about lucky.”
She watched Hager’s eye twitch as she continued. “Because none of this would have happened if the Shifters weren’t betrayed on Govan. You could have stayed there with your families, happy and lazy. Mowing your lawns on the weekends, working those day jobs to buy ponies and pizzas. But then there was the traitor, the one who turned in your wives and your kids to the government. Who fed the genocide.”
Seneca sensed the change in the room as the Shifters began to frown. She leaned toward dimple guy. “Who’d you lose?”
“That’s enough,” Hager said tightly.
The Shifter squinted back at her. “What are you saying?”
She rolled her shoulders. The fog from the drug was wearing off nicely, which was good because things were about to get really interesting. “I’m just pointing out the odds, that’s all. Now you have a chance to start over again, with Hager here as your king.” Then she smiled at him. “Maybe Hager is the lucky one.”
The Shifters were all staring at Hager, thinking. Thinking was good. It took time, and time was what she needed. Seneca placed her feet firmly on the hard floor. Hager stood six feet from her. If only she could get him to move one or two steps closer.
Hager glared at her. “Don’t listen to her. She’s just trying to save herself.”
“You should know,” she said with a smile. “That’s what you do best. Right, Puck?”
Every Shifter turned to Puck, who was watching her and frowning deep in thought. Then Hager stepped in and blocked out his brother. His face flushed with fury. “He’s an imbecile.”
One more step and he’d be within reach. “Tell them the truth, Puck. They deserve to know what happened to their families. Who betrayed them to the Govan government. Who orchestrated their escape. Who stranded them here with no options but to work for him?”
Hager pulled out a gun. “Your services are no longer required.”
Hager aimed the gun at her head. Time was up.
A small voice arose, laced with a thick Irish accent. “Hager did it.”
Her relief was shattered by a flash of light, and Seneca closed her eyes, bracing for the bullet. Suddenly, she was yanked by her shoulder and hurtled against the wall, chair and all—amid a chaotic roar of yells and destruction. It took her a moment to realize that she wasn’t dead, only that the lights had been knocked out.
The chair had broken in half, and she struggled to kick loose of it. She managed to free herself and rolled to her knees to find mass pandemonium, furniture splintering and bottles smashing. Shifter shadows collided—some slashing, some running. One shadow looked familiar, and her chest tightened when she realized it was Max.
He was alive.
Then gunshots filled the air. She hit the floor as bullets ricocheted around her and voices yelled, “XCEL!”
XCEL agents flooded in behind Max, following his lead as they rushed the room. He hadn’t expected to find Carl leading them here to wage war against Hager. They weren’t even upset to see him in Shifter form. All he cared about was that they were here. Amid the bedlam, he tried to reach Hager, but there were too many Shifters in the way. Max slashed at a Shifter’s face and he dropped in his tracks.
Max looked up and saw Hager escape down the tunnel. He cast a quick look at Seneca. She looked dazed but safe, and XCEL would protect her. He pushed past the remaining Shifters and followed Hager through the tunnel. Hager disappeared through a doorway up ahead and Max raced through it, taking the stairs three at a time to the top. It opened to a small, decrepit office with one door that led to a shipyard—and daylight. Hager was running across the deserted yard.
Max blinked a few times to let his Shifter eyes adjust. “XCEL isn’t going to like this.”
Then he ran outside, just in time to see Hager duck behind a building near the water. He was still in Shifter form, and Max looked around quickly before following him. The shipyard hugged the Hudson River, and a band of buildings across the river reflected off the water. In daylight, Shifters were bound to Primary form. Max wasn’t any longer, thanks to the successful shift under the UVC light, but he wasn’t going to push his luck.
Max chased Hager around the corner of the building, past a stack of crates, through abandoned vehicles, and into a narrow alley. He felt the attack a split second before the crushing blow to his chest knocked him back. The cold axe head sunk deeply into him, leaving him in excruciating pain and unable to breathe.
“You ruined everything!” Hager yelled as he ripped the axe out and pulled back to swing again. He struck Max in the shoulder, and bone shattered. Max dodged the third strike, but it grazed the side of his head, sending blood everywhere and blinding him in one eye.
Pain crippled his senses as he blocked the next swing with his arm, breaking the axe handle in half. Max slashed at Hager with his other hand, shredding Hager’s arm. The Shifter howled and stumbled backward, holding his arm as he turned and ran.
Max staggered to his feet and limped after him, struggling to draw air into his lungs. The wounds were deep and critical, and he realized he wouldn’t be able to keep up with Hager. He could feel blood pour out, his body turn cold and slow.
Sirens invaded the shipyard, echoing between buildings. Humans were here. Humans could see him, Max thought. But he couldn’t do anything about it as he stumbled forward. His thoughts spiraled inward, darkening along with his vision. He made it to the next corner of the building, following Hager’s trail of blood. Hager wouldn’t get far, not after being outed as the traitor. If XCEL didn’t catch him, the Shifters would.
Max kept moving, doggedly tracking Hager. His only regret would be that he wouldn’t see Seneca again. He envisioned her face in his mind, felt her warmth in his dying heart and fresh regret in his soul.
Shouts rang out behind him and feet pounded toward him. He should shift. He should do it now before it was too late. Then he heard voices up ahead, arguing, and he leaned against the building for support. He moved forward to get closer, barely feeling his feet on the ground. The figures of two Shifters appeared.
“Get out of my way, Puck!” Hager yelled at a much-larger Shifter blocking the alleyway between the buildings.
The other Shifter shook his head. “She was right. You don’t want peace. You never did.”
“Fuck her, she’s nothing,” Hager growled.
“Like me?” Puck replied. “You used me. You lied to me like you did everyone.”
“So what?” Hager said.
“I’m your brother.”
“Right now, you’re in my way.” Hager lunged at him. “Now, move—”
The larger Shifter grabbed him, spun him around, and broke his neck so fast that Max almost missed it. Then he let Hager drop. For a minute, Max just stared at his sworn enemy’s dead body. Hager, the killer of his wife, the betrayer of everything he held sacred, was finally dead. And Max felt nothing. No relief, no joy, no resolution.
The only thing in his mind was Seneca’s face fading away.
“We found him, but he’s in bad shape,” Carl said to Seneca as they ran side-by-side through the shipyard that had become a circus of law enforcement, bystanders, and media. Shifters in Primary form were dead or dying following the assault. TV and police helicopters hovered over the scene, bringing the horror to the unsuspecting public.
Her legs were like rubber, sabotaged by the fear that she was too late. Carl yelled over the racket. “I should have clued you both in about the double cross, but I couldn’t risk Hager finding out. I couldn’t trust anyone.”
“Forget it,” she said. “You did the right thing bringing XCEL in. Just how bad is he?”
“Very, I’m afraid,” Carl said as they turned a corner and slowed at a c
ordoned area. Seneca ducked under the tape and pushed past Witley and the other XCEL agents standing guard over Max in Shifter form. He was stretched out on the dock in a pool of blood with Apollo beside him.
She fell to her knees, horrified at his condition. There was so much blood, everywhere—his chest, his shoulder, his face. She put her hands on him, not knowing how to make it stop.
She looked up at Apollo. “Can you do anything?”
“I tried, but . . .” Then his voice trailed off, and he just looked at her, his expression grim. Her heart sank.
“Seneca,” Max whispered.
“I’m here. Just hold on.” She pulled her shirt off and shoved it into his gaping chest cavity. It was soaked in seconds and helplessness gripped her. “Help me, Max. Tell me what you need.”
His eyes opened and focused on her with obvious effort. “I’m sorry.”
She felt her eyes burn as she pressed against the wound, but it didn’t seem to be making any difference. “Next time, duck.”
“Won’t be a next time, Seneca.”
Tears filled her eyes. “Just shut up and help me here.”
His eyes closed. “I love you.”
“Fine, good. Now heal yourself so we can live happily ever after.”
He didn’t reply, and she knew he couldn’t heal this. It was too much. She was going to lose him. Panic laced her words. “Max, can you hear me? You have to concentrate.”
“Change me back to human.”
She blinked at him in disbelief. “What?”
He labored for every word. “I don’t want to die like this. Force-shift me.”
Her hands were in blood up to her wrists. “No, you need to stay in Shifter form so you can heal. Apollo, give me your shirt.”
Max gasped for air. “Please, Seneca. Let me die as a human. Do this for me.”
Apollo handed her his shirt, and she pressed it to Max’s chest. It was instantly soaked, worthless. She sobbed, her heart breaking into a million pieces.
“Now,” he said weakly. “Now, Seneca.”
He was slipping away from her. She couldn’t deny him. Tears streamed down her face as she called upon her ancestors and her god for strength and courage, hope and faith.
Just this once, she prayed, just this once give me what I need. I understand now. I believe.
“Stay for me,” she whispered to Max.
Then she placed her bloodstained hands over the wounds where his life force was seeping out. She heard air rattle in his lungs, felt him seek peace.
She closed her eyes, let the power flow through her hands, and said, “Heal.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Max floated in and out of consciousness for what seemed like an eternity. Every time he surfaced, Seneca was there. Her voice eased the pain, her scent healed him, her warmth gave him tranquility. She talked to him, telling him the latest news, reading from the newspapers, and encouraging him to get better.
In his mind’s eye, he could see the turmoil the revelation of the Shifters’ presence was causing. The story had broken, and the shock to humanity was cataclysmic. There were government hearings and finger-pointing. The international community was terrified. XCEL was under scrutiny, and the nebulous Committee had been disbanded. There were alien haters and doomsday believers who proclaimed the end.
Then Seneca would tell him that there was also hope. About the people who just wanted answers and knowledge, who were willing to listen. Government officials who supported a dialogue and cooperation with the Shifters.
She talked about her past and her fears. Her grief over losing her parents, and the anger she’d never quite relinquished until now. About the healing power she’d been given and how she wanted to use it for something good, to treat and cure his people. His people.
She told him stories of Noko and the Iroquois. How they had once flourished here, living off this great land, before the Europeans came. How they were betrayed, persecuted, and forced to give up their lands. They fought long and hard, but lost. Yet they stayed strong, their culture survived, and they remained tied to the place they loved.
Her stories about the Sky Woman and the Eagle who came to the people soothed his thoughts. Legends of fire and earth, and how this world and its people were all connected filled his mind and soul.
He listened and healed, Seneca’s whispers keeping him anchored in the sea of darkness and light that he drifted through. When he felt his worst, her healing touch would stop the pain. When he lost his way, her voice would lead him back. When he wanted to give up, she reminded him of all he had to live for.
Seneca clutched Noko’s diary to her chest, feeling the strength it always gave her. The night was cold and clear, and the moon had relinquished its station to the stars. Bright and twinkling in the sky, they danced as they had for millions of years, even before there were people to see them.
Here in the northernmost tip of New York State, the night was hers once again, just like it had been when she grew up here. It was quiet beside the frozen Deer River behind her aunt and uncle’s house. Fresh snow blanketed the ground and clung to the tree branches. The tall pine trees swayed gracefully. The air was clean and crisp as she drew it into her lungs. And in the silence, everything made sense.
She closed her eyes and prayed that her love would be enough to heal Max. She believed it, but did he? After all he’d been through, could he believe in anything?
The past few weeks had both drained and tempered her. Bringing Max here to recover was a gut decision that she didn’t regret. He seemed to improve every day, but he had been awake only long enough to eat and drink. He could be like that forever. And if he was, she’d be here with him. Nothing was going to take her away, not XCEL, not the madness or fear that gripped the country.
Noko was here along with her relatives. Family ties, unconditional love. This was her home now. They’d have to drag her cold, dead body from this place.
A crunch of snow startled her, and she dropped the book, spun around, and pulled her gun from her coat in one swift movement. Max stood behind her, smiling. His Shifter shadow was whole and strong.
The relief and shock was so powerful, her thoughts jumbled over one another. He was awake. He was walking. He was in human form for the first time since Hager’s death. He’d shifted himself.
She holstered the gun. “You’re lucky I didn’t shoot you.”
“That would be a shame, considering how much time you spent healing me,” he replied.
His voice sounded good, and she was suddenly on the brink of tears. All the emotions she’d kept deep inside while she tended to him began to surface, one after another in powerful waves.
Max walked up to her, limping a little, and retrieved Noko’s book from the snow. He opened it up and paged through it. Then he looked up to meet her gaze, his silver eyes the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen.
“You read this to me,” he said softly.
“Yes,” she whispered. “You remember?”
“I remember everything,” he said. There was so much understanding and tenderness in his expression. “Every word you said, everything you did.”
Tears were streaming down her face, and she couldn’t stop them. “I love you.”
Max reached out and gently touched her cheek with his fingertips, tracing the trail of tears, looking awestruck. “I know.”
“Is it enough?” she asked, her voice cracking. “I need to know if my love is enough.”
Time froze as Seneca watched Max. She’d put it out there, her heart and her soul.
Max moved closer and put one warm palm around her neck as he kissed her tenderly. Her fear fell away with each brush of his lips. Finally, he put his forehead against hers. “It was always enough. More than I deserved. I should have told you, but I just couldn’t accept it then.”
“And now?” she asked.
His eyes shone iridescent in the night as he peered into hers. “Now I’m all yours. For good or bad. This won’t be easy.”
&n
bsp; “Oh please,” she said with a little laugh, and wrapped her arms around his neck. “I live for danger.”
He smiled and bent to kiss her. “Then you’ve come to the right man.”
Turn the page for a preview of
C. J. Barry’s next novel in the series . . .
The Body Thief
Coming soon from Berkley Sensation!
“Next time, I use the valet service,” Cam muttered to herself as she dragged her suitcase to her car on the fourth level of the self-parking garage. The Atlantic City morning sun gleamed across car hoods and smooth concrete in the open garage. It was bright and quiet, and a long freakin’ way from the hotel and casino.
It was her own fault. She should have opted for valet parking, but then again, she was trying to be a normal human being. Blending in with the locals was an important part of her modus operandi. Swoop in, make tons of money off the casinos, and sneak out quietly. It’d worked for the past year, and unless proven otherwise, she was sticking with it.
She finally reached her Honda Accord and opened the trunk. As she threw her suitcase in the back, a prickle of foreboding spread across her body. In a split second, her senses heightened. Footsteps shuffled behind her—three, maybe four, humans. Pant legs of men’s suits brushed together. No talking, moving fast. Her nose picked up aftershave and sweat, definitely male.
Maybe they were looking for her, maybe not. She wasn’t taking any chances. Slowly, she bent over her suitcase and reached inside the outer pocket for her Glock 17 9 mm. It was small, but a gun was a gun in close quarters. She kept her hand and the gun out of sight inside the trunk and turned her head just enough to pick the men up in her peripheral vision.
Three humans, one in front in a gray suit, two behind wearing military street clothes and carrying assault rifles. Yup, they were definitely here for her.
She had one second to weigh her options—make a run for it or stand and fight. Cam smiled. She’d never been one to run. After all, there were only three of them. She’d bet on those odds any day.