by Wood, Vivian
He tucked her head in toward his chest, and then burst through the small thicket. The He tucked her head in toward his chest, and then burst through the small thicket. The
backyard of this house faced Magazine St.’s back alley once more, and Jace lit down the street with all the speed he could muster. Gunshots rang out, and Jace felt and heard a bullet zing past them. Tessa gave a little cry but there was no smell of blood in the air, so she was probably intact.
Then again, humans probably weren’t as used to being shot at as your average Shifter.
Jace gritted his teeth and pushed himself harder. His bike came into view. He’d have to shake the gunmen before he could get the girl onto the bike.
Tessa was pale when Jace let her down for a second so that he could force open one of the doors of the grocery store he’d parked behind. He shuffled her inside and slammed the door behind them so hard that it bent, effectively closing off the access point. There were other doors but by then he’d be long gone. He picked up Tessa and slung her over his shoulder this time.
“Hey!” she shrilled.
Jace ignored her panicked voice and sprinted into the store, quickly finding his way to the front door. He knocked over several people and half the displays on his way out the door.
Jace nearly laughed when he heard Tessa apologizing to an older lady who’d been in their way moments before. The girl was worried about propriety right now? Jesus.
Jace sprinted out of the automatic doors and turned the corner, running back to the alleyway. After a quick check to make sure their pursuers had followed them inside the store, Jace ran to his bike and set Tessa on her feet.
“What are we-“ she got out before Jace stuffed the helmet onto her head. He tore off his jacket and put it on her, then climbed on and started the bike.
Tessa hesitated, and Jace turned to her with a furious look. She was still scrambling onto the seat behind him when he started backing out of the spot; moments later they were racing from the parking lot.
Jace chuckled as they hit the street. McDonough’s men were outside the grocery store, staring after them. He’d laughed too soon, though. A huge black sedan pulled up and the men were throwing themselves inside. Jace gunned the engine of his bike and swerved to narrowly avoid a city bus, then began weaving his way between the two lanes of Magazine St. traffic.
Jace had to either slow down so much that the sedan would catch up within shooting distance, or drive so erratically that they might end up with some serious road rash.
She could live with a little road rash, but probably not a bullet wound. With that thought Jace pushed the bike to full speed and prayed that he wouldn’t get her killed one way or the other. FOUR
When Jace slowed the motorcycle to a halt, it wasn’t exactly where Tessa expected. For one thing, they’d only driven maybe twenty minutes and about half of that time was circling and cutting back to make sure they weren’t being followed.
It also wasn’t the nicest part of town. Tessa didn’t know much about New Orleans outside the French Quarter, but every ghetto she’d ever seen had looked almost exactly like this one. They’d passed several sets of abandoned housing projects on the way here, making the neighborhood seem even less welcoming. The houses leaned this way and that at alarming angles, every window and door was covered with thick security bars, and people gathered in groups on their porches, staring Tessa down as she dismounted from the bike.
As she pulled the helmet off, Jace stalked right up to a porchful of people as if he owned the place. A gaunt younger black man came down the steps and studied him for a second, then offered Jace his hand.
Tessa blinked as they shook hands in a complicated and obviously practiced series of motions. Then Jace held out the keys to his bike and the young man nodded before going back up to his porch.
Tessa opened her mouth to ask one of the hundred questions that sprang to mind, but Jace simply grabbed her arm and started towing her down the street. After a few blocks, Jace released her and walked across an ill-kept lawn to a dilapidated pink shotgun-style home.
Jace pulled open the unlocked door and hustled Tessa inside. He held a finger up to his lips and then motioned for her to stay put. He headed back through the house, checking each room before securing the back door, and then returned.
Still he motioned for her to stay put, slipping outside. She could hear him rustling through the overgrown grass on the side of the house, pulling at windows and checking the back door from the outside.
Tessa wasn’t sure if he was overprotective, or whether she should be more worried about their safety. Either way it didn’t look good for her. He returned, coming back inside and closing the door.
“Where are we?” Tessa asked, watching Jace engage the numerous locks on the front door. “Safe house,” Jace grunted as he pulled the doorknob to make sure everything was locked tight.
“If it’s yours, why was the door unlocked?”
“What good is a safe house that you can’t get into? It only needs to keep people out when someone is inside,” Jace grumbled, scanning the front room again.
Tessa wrinkled her nose and headed down the single hallway to give herself the tour.
The front door led into a squat front room that had only a cheap card table and two folding chairs as furniture. Where the outside of the house was grungy and of questionable cleanliness, the inside had been painted a startling white and looked as if it had been cleaned very recently.
Next was an equally clean bathroom which boasted a brand new shower liner and an empty trashcan, all white to match the tile and toilet and sink.
Then there was a tiny, cramped kitchen. The only color was from the labels on the canned goods in the open pantry shelving. Just a stove and a fridge, both smaller than normal.
The second to last room was obviously meant to be a bedroom, as there was an impeccable and expensive-looking full-sized white mattress on the floor. Other than a single white floor and expensive-looking full-sized white mattress on the floor. Other than a single white floor
lamp and a closet door, the room was bare. The last room was obviously supposed to be for laundry or storage, but there was nothing but another exterior door with tons of locks and bars, which Jace slid past to secure.
“This place is friggin creepy,” Tessa remarked as she headed back to the front room, noting that all the windows were painted white to let sunlight in but keep prying eyes out. “I don’t see why,” Jace replied flatly, checking each window to make sure it was painted shut.
“Well… for one thing, it’s way too white. And the floors are all tile. This looks like a serial killer’s lair. You could just spray the whole place down if you had drains in the floor.”
Jace frowned at her. A tiny blonde human shouldn’t know things like that. It was uncanny. Crossing his arms casually, he propped himself against the wall of the front room.
“That’s the point of a safe house. It’s totally anonymous. Anytime we use it, I have a crew come in and dump everything, remove every trace of evidence that we were here. No one knows about it except the pack members and Ronnie.”
“Ronnie?”
“The guy I gave my keys over to earlier. He takes care of things around here when they need doing. Enough with the questions, human.”
“That’s your go-to guy? He looks like a friggin gangster, not to mention he’s like sixteen years old max,” Tessa said with a frown.
A glint of amusement lit Jace’s eyes as he smirked at her.
“I’m gonna have to tell Ronnie that you said that. He’ll get a kick out of it.”
“Must be good genes,” Tessa said wanly.
“Or the fact that he’s half elf. One of those two things,” Jace retorted, heading for the kitchen.
Tessa stood openmouthed for a few long beats before she followed him.
“You’re kidding. You are kidding, right?”
Jace was rummaging through the fridge, bent at an uncomfortable-looking angle just to get his
head down that low. Christ, the man really was ridiculously tall. And now that Tessa thought about it, he had a nice behind. It looked… grippable.
Tessa took a deep breath, then asked again.
“Right, Jace?”
Jace straightened, popping the tab on a Coke and taking a long swig before turning his attention back to Tessa.
“Coke?” he offered.
Tessa shook her head. She wasn’t that big of a fan of carbonated drinks in general, they never tasted right to her.
Jace nodded, and closed the fridge.
“I’m not kidding,” he said slowly, his eyes monitoring her expression closely.
Tessa pursed her lips, nonplussed.
“I’m just getting used to the idea of werewolves. I don’t think I can handle any other weird stuff right now.”
Jace cocked his head and leaned closer, making Tessa back up a pace. He was every bit as prickly and pushy as Tessa had expected from a guy with his incredible looks. Tessa sighed, barely listening when he reprimanded her.
“Don’t call us anything but Shifters. We don’t like to be confused with werewolves, they’re bastards.”
“There are werewolves?”
“Did I stutter, human?”
Tessa bit her lip, thinking. One part of her wanted to know more. Were there vampires, and fairies, and unicorns too? The question sounded cynical even in her mind, but just a couple of hours ago she hadn’t truly believed that Shifters were real. She’d needed to see it to believe it.
Another part of Tessa firmly believed that the less she knew, the better. One day soon she and Camilla were going back to their normal lives, and it would only be a burden to know that there really were creatures that went bump in the night.
“You look like you’re going to throw up,” Jace commented. He set the Coke down and grabbed her wrist, tugging her a little closer as he felt for her pulse.
The sensation of his warm skin against hers and the closeness between their bodies hit Tessa like an electric shock. Immediately Tessa’s heart started galloping like a racehorse. She wasn’t very used to being touched in general, especially in the last few months since she’d been held captive. Any touch she’d received there had definitely not been tender. And definitely not by someone who looked like Jace.
Fear and panic suddenly crept up her spine. All the sudden her chest was tight and it was a struggle to draw breath. She closed her eyes and tried not to think of her impending murder.
A big, rough hand rubbed a circle against her palm as another counted her heartbeats. Jace frowned and abruptly released her.
Tessa let out a big whoosh of breath, the startling contact cut short only to be redoubled when Jace spun her shoulders around and propelled her to the bedroom.
Tessa’s breath caught painfully in her throat as Jace pushed her onto the bare mattress. Her mind was screaming that she had to defend herself against him, but she was frozen. Even worse, a tiny voice in the back of her head said that it was bound to happen eventually. The choices Tessa made, the people she chose to trust… it was always going to come to this.
She pulled her arms and legs in close to her torso, trying to protect herself. Jace’s body didn’t come down next to hers, though. As she struggled to draw breath, Tessa turned her head to find Jace rooting through the closet. He produced a number of blankets and pillows, which he piled on and around Tessa carefully.
Finally Tessa’s chest relaxed a bit, and she realized Jace was talking to her.
“…maybe you should lie down,” he was saying. “Just relax, Tessa.”
Tessa wanted to tell Jace that he’d caused the panic attack himself, but she was still out of breath and it would probably not endear her to Jace.
Still, Jace talked to her in a soothing voice as he pulled out more blankets and pillows and made a neat pallet across the room from the mattress. It wasn’t until he’d removed his shoes and lain down on the pallet that Tessa realized he had absolutely no intention of touching her any further. His physical contact had been a way to ascertain her health.
Silence lapsed as her breathing evened out and her muscles relaxed in increments, until Tessa began to regain control of her body. The quietude stretched for a long time, though Tessa could sense that Jace wasn’t asleep.
Finally, he broke the silence.
“Better?” he asked, his voice concerned.
“Yes. Thank you. I’m still very tense, but at least I can breathe now. I just need to get my mind off things,” Tessa said, a little embarrassed.
Jace was quiet for another long beat before responding.
“I could tell you a story or something,” he said hesitantly.
“I would like that,” Tessa said softly. She took a deep breath and continued to try to slow her heartbeat.
“I’ll tell you my sister’s favorite story,” he said, sitting up and settling his back against the wall. Tessa lay still as he cleared his throat and started to speak.
“Long ago in ancient Greece,” Jace began, “there was an Arcadian king named Lykaon. Lykaon had the best of everything; bountiful crops and scenic pastures, loyal subjects, a large family, and a beautiful wife. In times of peace everything was good, but there were times of hardship too. When war came to Southern Greece, King Lykaon refused to take part in it, saying that there was nothing more he needed badly enough to kill.
The other kings of Greece soon fell upon Lykaon’s golden kingdom and ravaged everything that could be destroyed. Lykaon’s fields were burned, his subjects hunted and tortured, his wife and daughters defiled.
Standing amongst the ruins of his once-great castle, Lykaon turned to the gods. He offered his own life in exchange for vengeance against those who had wronged him. A lone god took pity on Lykaon and offered him strength and power enough to find justice and rebuild his kingdom, but there were three clauses.
One, Lykaon had to be truly willing to die. Two, the king must choose the greatest animal he knew to guide him into battle and to help him harden his heart. And three, Lykaon must be sworn to secrecy, because otherwise all humans would want such power.
Lykaon agreed, saying that he was willing to do anything the god asked. As his animal Lykaon chose the wolf, clever and quick but also strong and deadly.
The god approved of his choice, and told Lykaon how to gain his power; the king must go down to the lake and leave his clothes behind in the sacred ash tree. Then he must swim across the lake, and leave his soft-hearted ways behind. The god warned Lykaon that there was no room for tenderness in the wolf’s spirit.
The king did so at once, emerging from the lake in the form of a wolf. As he took the shape, the spirit of the wolf stayed with him, guiding him as he hunted and destroyed the men who had taken everything from him. The wolf taught Lykaon its ways, and Lykaon was unstoppable when he took the wolf’s form.
But still, Lykaon never learned to harden his heart. He came across a small group of his own people, half-dead and running from a group of mercenaries. The king dispatched the mercenaries, but even then he could not leave his people defenseless. Lykaon took them to the lake and showed them how to take on the spirit of the wolf; those who were strong enough and brave enough to swim across the lake would be invincible, he said.
And so Lykaon transformed the remains of his people, unable to deny a single person his secret. When the god found out, he was furious. Proudly, Lykaon declared that he would accept any punishment because he had won his vengeance and established justice in Arcadia.
The god was impressed by Lykaon’s newfound boldness, and instead of punishing the king he permanently melded Lykaon’s spirit with that of the wolf – the god bestowed it as a reward.
Lykaon and all his people found that they could change their shape at will, and that the wolf stayed within them even in their human forms.
They lived out their unusually long lives quietly, protecting the lake and the god’s method of shape changing. Their children and their children’s children carried the same traits, and ca
me to be called the Shifters or Lycans, after their fierce but soft-hearted King Lykaon.”
He went quiet again, and Tessa realized that she’d been so caught up in his story that she He went quiet again, and Tessa realized that she’d been so caught up in his story that she
hadn’t noticed that it’d ended. She blew out a big breath, surprised at his storytelling skill. “Thank you for that,” she said, looking up at the stranger who’d saved her only a handful of
hours before. Handsome, courageous, and damn but he could spin a yarn. So basically, Tessa
shouldn’t go anywhere near him.
Jace nodded awkwardly, not meeting her gaze. “I thought it might take your mind off
supernatural stuff.”
“Not exactly,” Tessa said slowly, “But you’re quite a storyteller. And it did help me calm
down, thanks.”
“I didn’t mean to panic you earlier. Most Shifters are raised knowing about other
supernaturals, so I just figured you were too,” Jace said with a shrug.
“No, not at all. My parents were completely human, and I’ve never had anything weird
happen… I think this might all be some kind of mistake. At least I hope so,” Tessa finished
awkwardly, turning her gaze toward the wall.
“I hate to break it to you, but you’re definitely an Ascendant Shifter. Ascendants can come
from the human world, although it’s rare. Recessive genes, I guess. Usually the closest pack of
Shifters will find you when you’re young, though. They work something out with the parents,
bring Ascendants into the fold. Maybe you should drop some hints to your parents and see if
they were ever approached.”
Jace cleared his throat uncomfortably. That might have been the longest consecutive string
of sentences he’d ever said to anyone outside his pack mates.
“I’ll probably never know. My parents passed away when I was fifteen. I lived with my
sister and our guardian until Camilla was eighteen, and then we moved into our own place.” “Makes sense. Usually you would have been brought into a pack by the end of your