by Leela Ash
Her Hare plastered its ears against its back, ready to bolt. Her rather sad plan made perfect sense to it.
One quick glance through slitted eyes to figure out where the locks were. Then Maddie scrambled up and threw herself at the door. Out of the corner of her eye she saw her attacker flinch. He slammed on the brakes, pitching her against the back of his seat.
Good. Less speed meant less pain. Her fingers found the door handle, yanked it… and nothing happened.
Locked. Of course. She pressed the button to release them, threw herself against the door.
And bounced off, harmlessly.
“Lock overrides are up here.” Her kidnapper’s voice was a low, rich baritone. He took his foot off the brake and once more the SUV crawled off along the road. “Passengers can’t unlock the doors.”
Of course not. If she could just jump out, she’d be tied up.
Golden eyes studied her in the mirror, so beautiful, yet so unnatural. She couldn’t see much of his face, just those eerie, fascinating eyes. Maddie slid back into the center of the seat, folded her hands in her lap, and started to work on Plan B. If she couldn’t open the doors, her next chance to escape would be when he opened it for her.
Minutes passed as she pondered her options and the possible dangers she’d face. Finally, the stranger cleared his throat.
“You’re, uh, taking this pretty well.”
“Am I?” Maddie stared at him with cool disdain. “Did you expect me to scream?”
“Well… yeah.”
“Would screaming improve my situation?”
“Uh, no.”
“Then I’ll pass, thanks.”
Screaming wouldn’t help – but sarcasm calmed her, made her feel stronger. Especially when he winced.
“So do you have any questions?”
“No.”
“Seriously?” he huffed, looking almost indignant about her apathy. “You don’t want to know where we’re going or why I grabbed you?”
If looks could kill, this guy would be dead. “No. Because you’re not going to tell me where we are and I already know why you kidnapped me.”
“Oh really?”
“Of course. I know what you are.”
He grew still then, staring out at the barren landscape that surrounded them. When at last he replied, he wouldn’t meet her gaze. “So what am I?”
“Darkborn.”
“That’s a new one.” The tension never left his broad shoulders. “Haven’t heard that insult before. And why did I kidnap you?”
“I believe monsters like you call us ‘clothes’. You’re going to ‘wear’ my body. You or some other abomination.”
A harsh bray of laughter exploded from him, shockingly loud in the closed car. “Thanks, lady. I needed that. No, I really did.”
Red motes, like tiny embers, swirled in his golden eyes as he glared into the rearview mirror. Maddie shrank back, stung by the bitterness and outrage that twisted his handsome face. “See, I was starting to feel bad about snatching you. Never kidnapped anyone before and I felt like a dick. Until you trotted out the old ‘Skin Walker’ myth and reminded me what jackasses you Shifters are. Screw you.” His hands tightened on the wheel. “You deserve this. No sympathy.”
The world tilted under her and all her budding plans tumbled into a heap. “Are you saying you’re not a Darkborn?”
“I have no idea what a ‘Darkborn’ is. Like I said, I’ve never heard the word.”
“It’s a malign spirit from the Other Side. They’re stealing into our world and possessing people.”
“Seriously?” He glanced up at her, the edges of his anger beginning to fade. “That’s happening? Now?”
“Yes.”
“Well hell.” He squirmed in his seat, clearly not pleased with that info. “I had no idea. So I guess the good news is no, I’m not Darkborn and I’m not going to possess you.”
Then what was he? Not a Shifter; she’d see his Shifter spirit if he was. Yet he knew about Shifters and hated them. Kin? A Shifter’s child, full of resentment because he didn’t inherit the Gift?
Only one way to find out. Maddie leaned forward, peering over the front seat. “Alright, if you’re not a Darkborn then I guess I do have questions.”
“Shoot.” Wary but calm, he watched her in the mirror.
Start with the basics. “Who are you?”
“You can call me ‘Griffin.’ Last name’s none of your business.”
Griffin? Like the mythical monster that was half eagle, half lion? Or the Welsh name?
Probably the latter. “Griffin, then. Though I won’t say I’m pleased to meet you. Why did you abduct me?”
“Because I need your help. There’s a gate to the Other Side out here. Don’t know if it’s got anything to do with your Darkborn or not, but it needs to be closed.”
Relief washed over her, a sudden rush that swept away her fear and tension and left her weak. That was it? That was why he kidnapped her? “Oh for crying out loud, why didn’t you just ask for help? We’re Hares! It’s what we do!”
“It’s complicated,” he muttered. He studied the road ahead with a piercing intensity, like he’d never seen anything quite as interesting as this patch of dust and dirt. “You can close a gate, though? I wasn’t sure.”
“Yes. I’m a senior Witch. It can be a little tricky to do it alone, but I’m not worried.”
“Good.”
That should have reassured him. Instead, his frown deepened and he began to scan the desert around them with a fierce, suspicious worry.
“Can I ask what you are?”
“No.”
Not an answer she intended to accept! “You’re clearly not a Shifter…”
“Am I not?” A sneer twisted his full lips.
That gave her pause. Normally Shifters recognized each other. As a Hare, she could see the Dragons, Wolves, and Bears that gave other Shifters their powers. Since she couldn’t see Griffin’s spirit, it meant he wasn’t a Shifter.
Or that he’s hiding his spirit.
With magic, that was possible. Heck, she could hide her Hare if she wished. Yet these days, few men wielded that kind of magic. Male Hares existed, but they were as rare as the proverbial hen’s teeth.
If he was a Witch, though, he’d close that gate himself. He wouldn’t need me.
What had he said, back when he’d flown into a rage?
“Are you a Skin Walker?”
That yanked him back from his contemplation of the empty desert. “That word is foul,” he growled. From somewhere under the passenger’s seat, her Hare stomped a warning. “Don’t use it.”
Bingo.
But what was a Skin Walker?
Oh, Maddie knew the myth. Cannibals and murderers, Skin Walkers hunted the Native people of the southwest. When they killed a person, they peeled the victim’s skin off. Wearing it allowed them to ‘Shift’ into the dead man.
Like Griffin had ‘Shifted’ into Ronald?
For a second she shivered, cold in the hot car. Until she saw the flaw in her fears.
If Griffin was that kind of monster, he wouldn’t get upset by a ‘racial slur’ like ‘Skin Walker.’
Then what was he? There were stories about lost Shifter Kinds, people who transformed into strange creatures outside the usual set of Rats, Bears, Wolves, Hares, and Dragons.
Could Griffin be one of them? A Shifter with no ties to her community. One who viewed other Kinds as enemies for some reason?
“Okay. Clearly this is not a subject you wish to discuss. I accept that, for now. Let’s get your gate closed. Then maybe we can talk about Shifters and why you ought to join our community.”
“ ‘Community’…” Acid dripped from that word. Maddie steeled herself for a fight.
Instead, Griffin slammed on the brakes and threw the car into park. “Sit put,” he ordered her, as he stepped out of the car. Offering Maddie her first look at her kidnapper.
Tall and rangy, dressed in faded jeans and an Army-
green t-shirt, he didn’t look like a male Hare. His shoulders were too broad, his arms too well-muscled. And he carried himself like a predator, confident and sure. With his scruffy honey-blonde hair and the shadow of a beard, he almost had a Wolf’s wild, unruly aura. That confidence, that grace, thrilled her. To her annoyance, she found herself drawn to him – until she reminded herself how she came to be here, in his car.
Then the urge to flee rose, briefly. She was a Hare, after all, and that was what Hares did: they ran. However, a quick glance at the land around them killed that thought. Mile after mile of dead, barren ground spread out in every direction as far as the eye could see.
I could walk for days and never find another house. I have no idea how far we are from civilization.
Or how many paths, trails, and 4-wheel drive tracks branched off from this road. Arizona’s wilderness hid a spider web of rutted ‘roads’, both ancient and modern.
No, better to stay with Griffin. An untended gate was a danger, one she ought to neutralize. Plus, with a gentle touch, she might be able to steer this lost soul back into the Shifter community.
Only a few feet away from the car, the strange Shifter knelt, studying the ruts in the road ahead. To Maddie, it all looked the same. Yet when Griffin returned to the car, his face was grim and worried. “Someone’s ahead of us.”
“Off-roader?” She’d never seen beauty in the desert, but knew a lot of people disagreed.
“Could be.” He didn’t sound convinced. “Not a lot to see out here, though, and they’re heading straight for the Cauldron. At least two vehicles. Maybe more.”
Griffin drove more slowly now, wary of foes. Her money was still on stray partiers, but the man’s suspicion was contagious. Maddie found herself scanning the horizon with him while her Hare wedged itself deep under the front seat.
Three miles later, at the top of a small rise, he parked and dug a pair of dusty binoculars out of the glove compartment. “Wait here,” he grunted again.
“Stop.” Maddie caught his hand as he stepped out. His skin was hot and rough beneath her fingers. “Unlock the door, please. Let me stretch my legs and try to walk off that anesthesia you used. My head still feels fuzzy.”
He hesitated – until she added, “It’s not like I could run away, even if I wanted to leave a dangerous gate unclosed.”
“Fair enough.” With a click, the lock on her door popped up. Maddie stepped out, clinging to the car door until her wobbly feet grew strong.
The view from outside wasn’t encouraging. Their car was a tiny dot in an ocean of emptiness. The ‘road’ they’d followed looked more like a dry creek bed than a manmade trail.
Ahead, a cluster of enormous rocks erupted out of the desert, perhaps a hundred feet tall. Still and tense, Griffin scanned them.
“We have problems.” He held the glasses out to her.
With them, the rocks sprang into clear focus. A tiny cluster of ramshackle adobe huts nestled in their shadow, shielded from the worst of the afternoon sun. No telephone poles or power lines broke the stillness of the desert. The village looked ancient, like something out of the Wild West days.
However, the two SUVs parked in its midst were completely modern. Black tinted windows, high clearance, powerful engines. Men in fatigues stood around them. Four, all armed with high powered rifles. At the sight, Maddie’s heart sank. No decent people showed up with that kind of firepower.
They had to be Darkborn. Or the Fangs of Apophis.
Or both.
Chapter 3.
Griffin Davis scowled across the desert, caught on the horns of two different problems. One was the enemy outside the Cauldron. The other was the woman at his side.
Why did I talk to her?
Conversation made people real. Human. When she was silent, unconscious in the back seat, he could think of her as a thing. A pawn. The Witch with the skills he needed to get this job done.
Then she woke up and started talking. He gave her his name. His name! What the hell was up with that? Why did they need to be on a first-name basis?
And why do I keep staring at her?
Well, Hares were his type. Leggy, tall, whip-thin. Even better, Maddie was curvier than most of her sisters. Full lips, round hips, and a delicious pair of breasts that her drab business ‘suit’ didn’t do justice to.
He was staring. Again. Griffin dragged his eyes away from her, silently cursing himself.
I am officially the world’s worst kidnapper.
Maddie Hunter was a tool, nothing more. The ‘stick’ he needed to beat this gate into submission. Yet here he was, worrying about her. How was he going to keep her safe? Where could he leave her while he dealt with these new attackers?
Who gives a damn? I’ve got bigger problems, like four guys with assault rifles. She can take care of herself.
His anger added an edge to his words. “Looks like your ‘Shifter community’ got here ahead of us.”
Maddie didn’t rise to his bait. “That’s not my community. That’s got to be the Fangs of Apophis. There’s a war going on among Shifters. Do you know about that?”
“Yeah. I know about the Fangs.” He wouldn’t admit it to her, but she had a point. Those bastards were a nasty bunch. The worst of the worst. And he was sure that’s who they were dealing with. Assault rifles were illegal, even in Arizona. Only the Fangs (and a few nasty Wolf Packs) carried them.
“You probably don’t know that the Darkborn have infiltrated them. The Fangs have just learned that there are malign spirits possessing some of their senior members.”
Ah, hell, that was a mess! Probably meant there were some lethal purges breaking out around the country.
She squinted uselessly at the distant village. “Do you see any shadows moving by themselves? That’s what Darkborn look like when they’re outside of their host bodies.”
“No.” He scanned the houses again, just to be sure. “Nothing.”
“These may just be Fangs then. But, as a general warning, if you ever do see an independent shadow, don’t let it touch you. Darkborn need contact to possess.”
Kind of her to hand out that kind of knowledge for free. Most Shifters he knew would demand a high price for it. Maddie Hunter seemed to be a kinder soul than most.
Even if her advice didn’t help the current problem. “Gotcha. Okay, you stay in the car until I take care of this mess.”
“That’s your plan?” Maddie’s nose wrinkled. So did her Hare’s, an exasperating (if cute) echo.
“Yes, it is. I’m competent.”
“You’re also badly outnumbered.”
“I’ll take them by surprise.”
“You hope…” Her frown deepened. Why the hell was she worried about him? He was her kidnapper, after all.
I’m also her ticket home and she expects closing this gate to be an easy job.
Which it wasn’t going to be. Everything here was complicated, and the poor woman had no idea what a snafu she’d walked into.
She didn’t walk into anything: I dragged her here.
Because he needed her. Or, well, her skills. No sense feeling guilty over things you couldn’t avoid.
“No, I know I’ll catch them by surprise.” That’s what his Kind did, after all. Not that he was going to tell her that.
Despite everything, she kept arguing. Even if he was her kidnapper, she was determined to keep him alive. “And then do what, exactly? Look, I’m not a mercenary but I know that 9mm of yours isn’t going to stand a chance against assault rifles.”
She recognized a 9mm? Griffin almost smiled. Guess his little Witch wasn’t a complete innocent. “That’s why I’m going to use their weapons, not mine.”
If he left her the binoculars, she could see…
She’d see way too much. Things that would get me killed.
The less Maddie Hunter knew, the safer she was.
Before she could raise another protest, Griffin closed his eyes and remembered. A cool winter day, a touch of frost in the air. The h
are in his snare. Terrified, but unharmed. He recalled the animal. Its brown eyes and soft fur. The way it pulled into itself, shrinking from his hand as he petted it. How it bolted for the sagebrush as soon as he released it.
Memories, as clear and perfect as a picture. He wrapped himself in them, pulled them close. He was shrinking, falling, tumbling into that vision, that memory of the winter hare.
When he opened his now-brown eyes, he was the memory. A long-legged, sleek animal, built for speed and stealth.
Maddie gaped down at him. “You are a Hare!”
Let her think that. It was better for him.
He couldn’t speak, even if he wanted to. Instead he turned and trotted off across the desert. Hoping that Maddie Hunter would actually do what he told her.
Hares were like pigeons: no one noticed them.
Less than 50 feet away from the goons, Griffin hopped about, nibbling on dried grass – and listening to his enemies gave him all the intel he needed.
“What’s taking the Boss so long?” one guy whined.
“No idea,” another thug answered. “Hares can take forever.”
So there was a Boss and Hares, plural, somewhere in the village. Good. Enemies split into two groups were much easier to take out. But where were they? Up at the Cauldron, hidden among the rocks that towered over the village of Stillwater? Or somewhere in the hamlet itself? His money was on the town, judging from the way that the mercenaries kept glancing at Mrs. Grey’s house.
The first speaker glanced about the collection of dusty huts and spat. “What a shithole. What the hell’s wrong with all these Indians?”
A question near and dear to Griffin’s heart. Both ears swiveled towards his foes as he prayed that his enemies knew the answer.
A prayer that was not answered. “No idea.”
“Are they dead?”
“Nah, they’re breathing.” Spooked, the four mercenaries inched closer to each other, more interested in sharing ghost stories than watching for enemies.
That sloppiness would cost them.
“It’s like Sleeping Beauty!”
“More like Sleeping Uglies,” a scarred man chuckled. His buddies snickered at his joke. “I put my cigarette out on that one old witch’s face and she didn’t even twitch.”