by Mia Marshall
This was what she did. She brought people together, and she kept them there. It was time for her to work her magic again.
We didn’t say a word to the men, knowing any explanation would lead to a long argument that would delay our work. We just got in the car and started driving, windows up and Iggy Pop’s “The Passenger” blaring too loudly for us to hear Will or Josiah protest as we drove away.
I stood alone at the river’s edge, the cabin behind me. No sign remained of the earlier snow, but the night air was still needle sharp, the chill pricking my exposed ears and throat. Through the trees, the gleam of distant homes beckoned, their lights a welcome glow against the dark pines. Tomorrow, I vowed, I’d be safe inside my own warm home, and I’d have Mac at my side.
Tonight, there was still much to do.
I watched the river flow past, simply taking the time to say hello. It had been a long, exhausting day, and there was little sign it would end soon. I knew the situation was urgent, that each moment I wasted put Mac and others in danger, but I also knew better than to rush into a dangerous situation with half a plan and little control. So I sat easily on the bank, legs crossed, and let the river fill me, giving me the energy and peace I needed to make it through whatever the night had planned.
When I felt whole and rested, I reached out to the water, sending my magic gently through the stream. I found all the expected creatures, the trout and frogs, a few birds tucked away in the protective plants that drifted along the banks, and, not far away, a larger, warm-blooded creature hovered in the water, watching me. It was familiar, and I knew it had watched me before. It seemed to be drawn to my quiet moments, to my communion with the water. Maybe it sensed that, in our own ways, we were both creatures of the river.
Of course, I had no idea if that particular animal was a shifter or just a plain old river otter. One way to find out. “Good evening.” I felt a slight stirring at the sound of my voice, a definite awareness of my words. Shifter, then. “I don’t mean to startle you. Please don’t go.” I kept my words low and even, though I longed to speed through my explanations and learn what they knew.
A moment later, others joined the first, quietly positioning themselves in the river to better hear my words. “I want to know if you spoke to a man this morning. A bear shifter named Mac. He’s missing, and I hoped you witnessed someone take him.”
I waited, feeling the distress that fed through the water, a deep concern among the otters. They seemed to be arguing.
“Please. If you know anything, this will help not just one man, but shifters throughout the area. They’re in danger. I know that sounds melodramatic and all, but it’s the truth.”
The first otter, the most curious one, made its decision and started swimming toward my spot on the bank. Before I could even exhale a sigh of relief, the others had surrounded it, chirping madly, trying to direct the animal away from me. The river easily told the story of their struggle. While the first one was stronger and more determined, the others were scared.
Calm and gentle was quickly losing its appeal. I gathered the water toward me, tugging the otters insistently to the bank. They all fought against it, even the bravest one, but my magic was too strong. They never stood a chance. When they were only a foot or two from me, I smiled, trying to show that I meant no harm, even if I was turning them into my own furry puppets.
“Let’s try this again. I need to speak to you. It won’t take long. I won’t hurt you in any way, but if you swim away again, I will pull you back. I need to find the man you spoke to this morning, and there’s no point telling me you didn’t see him. I may not speak otter, but I’m guessing all that chirping meant you know something. So, your call. We can go back and forth all night, or you can shift and we can have a civilized conversation. Well, some approximation thereof.” I didn’t want to set their expectations too high, after all.
This time, the chirping was lower pitched, and I guessed I was hearing the sound of an otter muttering. A moment later, a naked woman strolled from the water. She was as comfortable in her nudity as Simon was, though she lacked his lean lines. She was a robust pear shape, with a thin layer of firm fat plumping the skin across her entire body. Insulation, I realized, against the freezing river. She didn’t look unhealthy with the extra fat. She looked downright lush.
I wanted to treat her with the respect she was due, rather than squealing about the super cute otter, but that was hard to do when I saw her face. She was, in a word, adorable. Small ears, enormous, melting brown eyes, round cheeks, and a tiny button nose. I wanted to take her home and feed her and love her and pet her and call her George. Instead, I had to parlay like a reasonable adult. Life really wasn’t fair.
“What the fuck do you want?”
I blinked, then blinked again, certain this paragon of sweetness hadn’t just hollered at me while cursing like a sailor. Sure, I had a filthy mouth on occasion, but I wasn’t a bundle of cute wrapped in an adorable candy coating.
I recovered, scrambling quickly to my feet. I didn’t think I needed to worry about appearing unthreatening to this woman. She didn’t seem to suffer from any crisis of confidence about her ability to handle herself. Several small brown heads poked out of the water, interested in seeing how this conversation developed. If I didn’t get this woman on board, I would learn nothing from the others.
“I already told you. I need to know whatever you know about Mac, the shifter who lives here.”
She shrugged. Even though she was naked, I had a sudden image of her wearing a leather jacket and steel-toed boots. Clothed or not, she was an all-American badass, and she knew it.
“I’m sorry I dragged you over here. I don’t really have a lot of time or options right now, but I didn’t mean to get off on the wrong foot. I’m Aidan.”
I received a nod. She was happy to acknowledge that I had a name, even if she was disinclined to offer her own.
“And you are...?” I pressed. “I’d prefer to call you something other than Adorable Naked Chick.”
She looked pained. She’d probably have been perfectly fine with being Naked Chick, but the other adjective was unacceptable. “Miriam.”
“That’s pretty.” The words were out a second before my brain kicked in, telling me this woman might not want to have a pretty name. “I mean, that’s really... butch?”
To my surprise, she smiled, revealing small white teeth. “It’s fine. It’s just a fucking name. Beats Naked Chick, right?”
“I don’t know. If I looked as good naked as you do, I might consider changing my name.”
She patted her curvy ass. “It’s all the swimming. Very good exercise, you know.”
“Look, I’m good with the other profanity, but can you avoid the e-word, please?” I couldn’t help it. I knew we were short on time, and there were more pressing matters to attend to, but I sort of wanted to be her friend.
Miriam reminded me of the most awesome woman in a dive bar on a Saturday night—brash and brassy, the kind of woman who knew how to have a good time and wanted everyone else to join in. That kind of woman was also genetically incapable of taking anyone’s shit, and I needed that kind of attitude. Right now, outspoken easily beat shy and retiring.
Her smile turned into a grin. “Yeah, I saw your attempts at yoga. If I was that uncoordinated while working out, I’d avoid it, too.” I swore the otters watching from the river giggled.
I made a face at her, but I couldn’t say she was wrong. “You watch us?”
She tilted her head to the side and held out her hands, a posture that loudly said “Duh.” She had an eloquent face and body, prone to large, broad gestures and expressions, and she didn’t need words to communicate. Fortunately, she was just as eloquent with her words, even if half of them were f-bombs.
“Of course we watch you. We watch all you fuckers living along our river. Need to know what you’re up to, especially when the most powerful water we’ve seen in decades ends up living in our backyard. We don’t want no more fuckin
g surprises like before.”
I feared she was referring to the time I’d temporarily moved the river through our living room to put out a fire. It had been necessary at the time, but it definitely didn’t meet existing standards for environmental protection.
“Speaking of surprises, I’m sure you don’t want to wake up one day and find your kids have been stolen.” That’s me, queen of the ultra-smooth segue.
“We take care of ours. We know the river. We’re safe as hell out here. No one’s touching us.”
“Current evidence to the contrary.”
Her eyes narrowed. She wasn’t mad at me, exactly, but she didn’t like being reminded she’d been at my mercy.
In truth, the only waters I knew strong enough to pull several otters through the rushing spring water of the Truckee River were my family members and one nutty hippie in Nevada City. The otters really weren’t at risk, but I’d become pretty good at forming arguments only loosely based on reality. Sera had taught me well.
“Look, Pamela is fast and has sharp claws, and she still managed to get taken. James and Mac are freaking bears, which is damn near the top of the food chain around these parts, and Mac is careful. It wasn’t enough.” I neglected to mention they’d all known their abductor, which made it easy for her to get close enough to drug them. I’d fess up to my lies of omission later, when Mac and the others were safe. For now, I just needed her to help me.
She laughed, big and full-throated. “You aren’t telling me the whole story, are you? I heard him call to her. Aunt, he said. Look, I’ll make you a deal. We’ll help you however we can, because even if the otters are okay—and trust me, the otters are always okay—we care about those other shifters, especially the babies. In return, you stop trying to bullshit me. Deal?”
I nodded, relieved, and felt hope stir. She’d seen them this morning. She’d seen Mac get taken.
“Good. Now, here’s what I know. That woman was here early this morning. She had an inflatable raft, you know, one of those strong ones the tourist companies rent out to large groups, but this one had a motor strapped to it. It was more than strong enough for a bear and his auntie. She put it in the river, and she called to him.”
“And he just came over?” That didn’t sound right. Mac was cautious, and as much as he cared for his extended family, he had his own trust issues. With everything going on lately, it would have seemed more than a little odd for Celeste to be hanging out by the river at daybreak.
“He hung back at first. But then she gets this panicked tone in her voice, tells him that a blond woman is in the water, her foot trapped in the rocks.” She gave me a telling look. There was no doubt who that blond woman was supposed to be.
“She used me.” The words came out in a hiss, more animal than human. “She used me against Mac.”
“Yeah. That crazy bitch must have known you were the one thing he wouldn’t be rational about. Don’t you hate it when evil is smart, too? Doesn’t seem right. Anyway, she said she’d seen you fall in and called for him right away.”
It wasn’t a particularly smart strategy. Celeste must not know I couldn’t possibly drown. Or maybe she did, and she also knew that Mac would forget that key detail in his concern for my life, just as he had when I’d been trapped in the Bronco after the crash.
It’s hard for non-elementals to remember that, for the strong ones, our elements simply can’t hurt us. It goes completely against everything they know. In their logical world, if someone is trapped in the river, they’re going to drown. Despite knowing better, that must have been Mac’s first impulse, and he’d walked right up to Celeste.
“I’m guessing she drugged him somehow,” I said, my voice flat.
“Yep. He leaned over to look in the river and found a needle in his neck. A second later, he was laying on his stomach in the raft, taking one hell of a nap. Never even got a chance to fight.”
For some reason, that angered me more than anything. It was bad enough to kidnap children, mess with their memories, and risk permanent mental damage, but to be so sneaky about it? To not even give her prey a sporting chance? The woman was a monster.
“And then she started up the motor and took off, heading that way.” She pointed downriver, then looked at me. Waiting.
“I thought you said no more bullshit, Miriam.”
She grinned. “Just want to see if you’re paying attention.”
“I know there’s no way you’d let some crazy woman with access to pharmaceuticals that can fell a bear use your river without wanting to know a little more about her. Like you said, you gotta know what we’re up to.”
She nodded, pleased I wasn’t an idiot. “Damn straight. And this woman, she’s up to a lot, in a lovely office building northeast of here.”
“Where is it?” I pulled out my notepad, ready to scrawl the address among my various musings and ramblings.
“We don’t exactly get a good look at street numbers from this side. Besides, I thought you were in a hurry.” She jerked her head toward the river, where the three otters started bobbing excitedly in the water. “Let’s see how powerful you really are, water girl.”
CHAPTER 22
In my life, I’d traveled by car, boat, plane, helicopter, and, on one memorable date, motorcycle. I could safely say, however, that this was the first time I’d traveled by otter.
Miriam and her three comrades surrounded me, two on either side. I only had one job, to speed the river’s flow from the cabin to the office building where the shifters were being held. It wasn’t easy work and required too much concentration to also worry about such pesky details as navigation or staying afloat, so I soon found myself carried along on the backs of four brown, furry pontoons who knew every inch of the river. They easily avoided the branches and jutting rocks that would have left me scratched and bleeding, and with my magic pushing the water to unnatural speeds, we arrived at our destination much sooner than I ever would have in the Chevy.
The otters led me to an office building just east of Truckee in a small industrial park home to a mix of shipping companies, mixed martial arts studios, and a couple of questionable chiropractors who favored low rent over a respectable location. The park held several identical buildings separated by a sprawling parking lot, nearly empty at this time of night. The buildings were squat and two-storied and looked to have been built sometime in the 80s. They were composed entirely of sharp geometric lines and large windows, many of them lit by bleak fluorescent lights. They flickered uneasily, too worn to provide steady light.
During the day, it would look like a somewhat rundown but perfectly safe location. When the buildings’ ominous silhouettes rested against the midnight sky, it was the setting for a horror movie. I felt the heavy weight of deja vu.
Though these buildings were better maintained and presumably occupied, they still reminded me overmuch of the warehouse where Sera and I had long ago tried to stop a killer, and where we only succeeded in bringing death. Even now, after so much had happened, I had nightmares about that night, still pictured the flames devouring everything in sight while I stood by, helpless.
Here I was again, preparing to enter another dark building on the outskirts of Truckee on another cold night, pursuing someone whose awful motives and actions I didn’t understand. As on that night, my powers were proving erratic, even dangerous. Only hours ago, I’d allowed myself to set Diane’s living room alight. I knew I wasn’t in control, not really, but it didn’t matter. So long as Mac needed my help, I had no other choice.
I stood on the bank where the otters dropped me, shivering in the night sky and yet unable to move. I simply stared at the building and fought the dread that rose within me, the inexplicable certainty that more nightmares waited inside.
“You know, you’ll have better luck tonight if you’re not dying of hypothermia.” Miriam’s voice jolted me back to the present, and my sense of foreboding dissipated under the strength of her cheery voice.
Miriam held the zipped nylon bag
the otters wrapped around themselves when swimming. It held their cell phones and wallets in case they needed them, and that night it also held a dry change of clothes.
I wasn’t cold while in the water, but now I felt the bite in the air. I stood on the river bank in nothing but a wet t-shirt and underwear. It was quite daring for me, though the otters had snickered when I insisted on remaining partly clothed. After spending so much time with shifters, I was starting to wonder why Tahoe wasn’t crawling with nudist camps.
The remaining three otters crawled out of the water and returned to their human forms. Each one was more adorable than the last, and once again I showed a superhuman restraint by not patting a single one on the head. There were two boys and a girl, ranging in ages from twelve to about eighteen. They all grinned at me shyly, and I thought the girl looked familiar.
Miriam offered each a pointed stare that reminded them they ought to give me some privacy. They turned to face the river, except for Miriam. She cheerfully kept talking while we both pulled on dry clothes.
“My sister’s kids,” she explained. “She’s breeding again this year, so I end up with a whole lot of babysitting time. The woman really can’t seem to keep it in her pants.” I glanced at the backs of the other otters, but they didn’t stiffen in the slightest. I guessed they’d heard this before. “But they’re good kids, more or less. Mary there, she was the only one small enough to get into the building’s crawl spaces and snoop around a bit, so she can tell you more than the rest of us.”
Of course. I looked at the neat cap of brown hair and remembered a shy teenage girl lurking in the woods with Brandon and his friends. I approved of her current company far more.
I finished pulling on a worn, clean pair of dark jeans and a long-sleeved top. It was forest green and the darkest one I owned. I didn’t have a single item of black clothing, suggesting that my future as a ninja would have to wait until I had a wardrobe upgrade. These were the stealthiest items I owned. I wrapped my blond hair in a knot at the nape of my neck and covered it with a dark blue knit cap. I had no idea what to expect inside the building, but I could at least pretend I knew what I was doing.