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True Nature

Page 22

by Jae


  Is he changing his routine because of me? Danny didn’t want the special treatment. But before he could say something, Greg stood, shouldered his duffle and sleeping bag, and waved at Danny to follow.

  * * *

  A piece of wire ripped a hole in Danny’s jacket sleeve as he slipped through a gap in the chain-link fence. Damn. I really have shitty luck with fences. Mrs. M. will have... He stopped himself. Mrs. Mangiardi wasn’t there to take care of his clothes. For a moment, he wished he were back at home.

  Greg motioned at him to hurry up.

  Danny shoved his thoughts of home away. He was here now, so he had to make the best of it. At least for now. He stepped over a rusty wheel and circled a rotting stack of pallets, following Greg into an abandoned warehouse.

  The smell of machine oil and rust hit him as soon as he stepped through a heavy metal door. His foot collided with something, and an empty beer bottle rolled across the concrete floor until it came to rest against a graffiti-covered wall.

  A fire burned in a barrel in one corner, staining the windows black with soot.

  A draft ruffled Danny’s hair, and when he looked up, a bird swept past him and escaped through a broken window.

  He wrinkled his nose. Nice digs, Greg, really. Practically a five-star resort. Then he shook his head at himself. He had always despised the spoiled rich kids of Rue’s business friends. Their parents showered them with expensive gifts, but not much attention. When the kids got themselves into trouble, their parents hired high-priced lawyers and waved their money around until the problem went away.

  Rue had never done that. She expected him to stand up and take responsibility for his own actions, even if it meant spending half the night at the police station or being kicked out of school. At first, he had resented her for not fighting for him, but the more time went by, the more he understood. She wants me to learn to fight my own battles. And that’s what I’ll do. I don’t need Rue to take care of the mess I made. I can rough it for a few more nights, and then Paula will be back. At least being here with Greg was better than sleeping on the street, all alone.

  Greg led him past moldy mattresses on which a woman with a guitar, a few teenagers, and bearded men sat.

  One of the men got up and blocked their way. Matted hair fell into his jaundiced face, and a knotted beard hung halfway down a grease-darkened army jacket. He held on to his stained pants while his other hand tightened against the collar of a large dog. The dog threw its weight against the grip on its collar, straining toward Danny, lips pulled back in a snarl.

  Danny stepped back, more because of the stench of stale beer than because of the dog.

  The man said something, jerking his chin toward Danny, but with his shaggy beard and alcohol-slurred speech, Danny couldn’t read his lips.

  Greg answered, but the man kept shaking his head.

  He doesn’t want me to stay here. Danny swallowed. Where else was he supposed to go? A strange, burning itch ran along his arms.

  Greg turned toward him and rubbed his index finger and thumb together in the universal sign for money.

  He wants us to pay for staying here? What does he think this is? The Hilton? Reluctantly, Danny handed him the two dollars he had earned asking people for spare change.

  The bearded guy still shook his head.

  Not enough? Danny turned the front pockets of his cargo pants inside out to indicate that he had no more money and then repeated the gesture with his jacket pockets.

  His pocketknife fell out and slid over the oil-stained concrete.

  With a glint in his eye, the bearded man waved his fingers.

  Danny gritted his teeth and picked up the pocketknife. Without it, he was defenseless. The knife was more than a weapon, though. He rubbed his thumb over the inscription. D. Harding. It had once belonged to David Harding, Rue’s grandfather. He still remembered the pride he had felt when Rue had given it to him for his tenth birthday. Inheriting the knife meant that Rue considered him her real son, not just an adopted stranger.

  The man shouted something and snapped his fingers.

  Slowly, Danny bent and picked up the pocketknife. He clenched his fingers around the familiar shape of the knife. No. He couldn’t give it away. His molars ground together as he snatched his New York Yankees baseball cap off his head and held it out to the bearded man.

  “No,” the man said and nodded toward the knife in Danny’s fist.

  Danny shook his head and clenched his hand more tightly around the knife. With his other hand, he pointed out the autographs on the baseball cap. Tom had once offered him fifty bucks for the baseball cap that Paula had brought back from an assignment. It was worth much more than the knife, at least to anyone but Danny.

  But the man still pointed at the knife.

  Danny hesitated. He stared down at the inscription, but he had no choice if he wanted a safe place to sleep. Finally, he threw the pocketknife at the man, who let go of his pants to catch it. His eyes glinted as he stared at the knife and rubbed it against his stained coat as if he wanted to wipe off any trace of Danny’s ownership.

  Danny gritted his teeth.

  When the man nodded, Greg grasped Danny’s arm and led him to the back of the large room, past improvised cardboard mattresses and a moldy piece of carpet.

  Rusty poles and a tattered tarp formed a partition wall. Behind it, a chair balanced on just three legs. Someone had dragged a worn couch next to the chair.

  Greg motioned at Danny to take the couch.

  Danny pointed at Greg and lifted his brows, indicating a “What about you?” Was this where Greg usually slept? An image of his own bedroom flashed before his eyes, every piece of furniture exactly as he wanted it because Rue had designed and made it for him. He remembered looking over her shoulder as she drew sketches of his bed and desk, remembered thinking how confident her hand looked as it moved across the paper.

  For a moment, he could almost smell her soothing scent as they looked at the sketches, heads close together.

  An ache started in his chest. Oh, come on. Rue wants to send you away, remember? And now that he had run away, she would be even angrier and not take him back.

  Greg pointed at his sleeping bag, unrolled it, and hunkered down on top of his duffle like a hen sitting on her precious egg.

  Danny put his backpack down on the couch, using it as a pillow, and stretched out carefully. The couch sagged in the middle, and a spring poked him in the ribs.

  Sighing, he closed his eyes but couldn’t relax. What if one of the men tried to rob him? He couldn’t hear them coming. The burning itch flared along his forearms again. Damn. Just two days on the street and I already got fleas.

  Air brushed his cheek.

  Danny’s eyes flew open.

  Someone had pushed back the tarp and was about to enter their improvised tent. When the boy saw Greg and Danny already occupying the spot, he paused, backlit by the flickering fire at the other end of the room. Worn jeans sagged down the dark-haired boy’s thin hips, and a hint of chewing gum smell drifted over.

  Danny squinted. Was he dreaming?

  No. He knew that scent.

  He’s the one who stole my wallet!

  The thin boy seemed to recognize him at the same moment. He let go of the tarp, whirled around, and ran.

  Heat flared through Danny’s body. Fists raised, he leaped from the couch and chased after the boy. He crashed through the tarp and almost got tangled in it. A growl wrenched from his throat.

  The fleeing boy threw a glance over his shoulder. His eyes widened when he saw Danny closing in.

  The glimmer of fear in the boy’s eyes sparked an answering reaction in Danny. His gaze zeroed in on the boy until nothing else existed, just the boy and the power pulsing through Danny’s limbs.

  With a desperate lunge, the boy reached the metal door.

  Adrenaline roared through Danny’s veins. He jumped and tackled him.

  The boy crashed against the door; then both of them went down.
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  Pain exploded in Danny’s side as the boy jabbed him with one sharp elbow. Fire raced across his skin. He got onto his knees and lifted one fist, ready to rip into his enemy.

  The boy’s hand disappeared into his pants pocket.

  Weapon!

  Danny threw his whole weight into the punch.

  The boy’s head flew back.

  Dammit. That hurts! Danny clutched his hand.

  But there was no time to lick his wounds. The thin boy pulled the hidden object from his pocket.

  Metal glinted.

  Shit! A knife!

  Teeth bared in an uncontrolled snarl, Danny threw himself at the boy. He pulled back his fist again, but his smarting hand seemed to move too slowly.

  The knife sliced through his shirt and cut into him. Something moved beneath his burning skin. The knife? His whole body was one pounding tangle of pain. Dizzy, he sank to the ground. Am I cut? He could no longer tell where the pain was coming from.

  The thin boy’s flushed face appeared in his line of sight. Wild-eyed, the boy stared down at him and opened his mouth into a scream. He raised his fist and drove the knife toward Danny’s neck.

  Chapter 32

  White-hot lances of agony stabbed through Kelsey as her spine contracted and absorbed the bones of her tail. Her muscles convulsed, joints popped, and leathery footpads separated into fingers and toes. Fur retreated and left behind bare, burning skin. She suppressed a whine and tried to let the sleepy scent of her two-legged roommate soothe away the pain.

  But instead of the complex aromas of a thousand different scents, her suddenly dulled senses took in just the most prominent smells—that of pine trees and crisp ocean air.

  Breathing hard, Kelsey sat on the rough carpet and stared at one of the beds.

  Rue lay on top of the covers, fully clothed. A bruise had formed on her jaw, where the man with Danny’s watch had hit her, and her features were tense even in sleep.

  Not that I can blame her after what she went through last night. The thought wrapped around Kelsey like a boa constrictor, squeezing the air from her lungs.

  Hastily, she got up, stumbling until she got used to moving on two legs again, and picked up her clothes and her cell phone. When the bathroom door clicked shut behind her, she leaned against it and pressed a hand to her forehead. Great Hunter, what did I do? She was a Saru, a soldier whose most important task was to protect the First Law—and now she had violated that law by revealing the Wrasa’s existence to Rue.

  Would trusting Rue with their secret really help to rescue Danny, or would it put him into even more danger? Last night, she had thought she could trust Rue, but now doubts gnawed at her.

  She stepped into the shower, but even the hottest water couldn’t sweep away her guilt and despair. Ignoring her growling stomach, she got dressed and then reached for her cell phone.

  For a moment, she debated whether to call Jorie or Griffin. Griffin was her commander, but Jorie had once been in the same position as Rue was now, so she wouldn’t decide to kill Rue just because she now knew about the Wrasa. Calling Jorie was safer.

  Squeezing her eyes shut, she waited for Jorie to pick up the phone.

  “Did you find the boy?” Jorie asked instead of a greeting.

  “No. I—”

  “Any leads?”

  “Nothing solid.” Kelsey licked her lips. “But something happened. I made a mistake. A big mistake. We went into a subway station, hunting after a man who had Danny’s watch, and I...I panicked.” The feeling of being trapped pressed down on her again. She laid her free hand against the tiles as if that would keep the walls from closing in on her. “I almost shifted.”

  In front of hundreds of humans in one of the busiest transportation hubs in the world. The magnitude of what had almost happened slammed into her. She dug her fingernails into the itchy skin of her arms.

  “Almost?” Jorie repeated after several seconds of silence. Tension vibrated in her voice. “But you didn’t?”

  “No. Not totally.”

  “What do you mean?” A frown was audible in Jorie’s tone. “I thought shifting is an either/or thing. I know it is for Griffin. Once she passes a certain point, she can’t reverse the shift.”

  Kelsey pressed herself against the tiles, hoping to soothe her burning skin. “It’s that way for me too. At least usually. Fur had already spread over my arms and hands. My vision changed, and I could feel the bones in my face start to rearrange. I’ve never been able to revert a change when it had already gone that far, but somehow...somehow I managed this time.”

  Her memories were a hazy tumble of feelings and sensations, but she could still remember one thing with crystal clarity: Rue’s cool palm on her neck. The touch had anchored her in her human form and had enabled her to gain control.

  “Jesus, Kelsey.” The sounds of Jorie’s agitated pacing came through the phone. “You got lucky this time, but this assignment is getting out of control.”

  Kelsey ducked her head. “That’s not all, Maharsi. Rue saw the fur on my hands. She knows.”

  Chapter 33

  Rue opened eyes that felt like sandpaper. Shreds of dreamlike images drifted through her mind. God, what a weird dream. Kelsey turning into a wolf... She shook herself, trying to clear her head. The wispy remnants of sleep left her, but the images stayed.

  Her mouth went dry and she swallowed heavily.

  Am I going crazy, or was all of that real? She pinched the bridge of her nose and tried to remember what had happened the night before. Had Kelsey really turned into a wolf?

  She checked the room, but Kelsey was gone.

  Shit. Where is she? Had Kelsey left and was about to return with a horde of shape-shifters? Now wide-awake, Rue sat up. Her gaze darted left and right, then fell onto the window. The slowly rising sun hadn’t reached the shadows in the alley behind the hotel yet, and a full moon was still visible above the neon signs. Is she out there, howling at the moon or something like that?

  Then she heard a voice from the bathroom.

  Kelsey. She’s still here.

  She rolled out of bed, careful to avoid giving herself away by the creaking of bed springs, and tiptoed across the room. With her ear pressed to the door, she could hear Kelsey’s voice. Who’s she talking to? Another shape-shifter?

  “What are we going to do?” Kelsey sounded desperate. “Last night, it seemed like a good idea to take that leap of faith and show Rue my wolf form, but now... Oh, Great Hunter, what did I do?” She listened for a moment and then said, “Options? The Saru would say we have only one option: killing Rue. But that’s not a price I’m willing to pay. Never again.”

  Rue’s heart slammed against her ribs. Kill me? Never again? Did that mean Kelsey had killed before? Rue whirled around, ready to flee, but Kelsey’s next words stopped her.

  “So we can’t call in the Saru, no matter how urgently we need to find Danny.”

  Danny? A wave of fierce protectiveness roared through Rue, washing away the need to flee. What do those goddamned shape-shifters want him for? She wanted to shove open the bathroom door and storm in to confront Kelsey, but she held herself back. If she entered the bathroom now, she would never find out what was going on. Trembling with barely contained anger, she pressed her ear against the door again.

  “I really think we need to tell Rue everything, Maharsi,” Kelsey said. “We need to work together, or we will never find Danny.”

  Did Kelsey really think she would help them find Danny? Rue suppressed a snort. She didn’t trust that the shape-shifters wouldn’t harm Danny.

  Kelsey fell silent, listening to the person on the other end of the line. After a moment, Kelsey spoke again, and Rue strained to hear every word. “I know you don’t trust her not to harm Danny,” Kelsey said. “I admit what you saw sounds bad, but isn’t it possible that you misinterpreted somehow? Now that I’ve spent some time around her, I really don’t think she would hurt Danny. She’s not a bad person.”

  Anger boiled up in Rue
and made her face burn. The damn shape-shifters think that I...I hurt Danny? Me? When they are the ones who... All clear thoughts disappeared. Her body trembled with rage, making the door vibrate.

  Shit!

  Before Rue could move back, the door swung open.

  Rue stumbled and collided with Kelsey.

  Phone pressed to one ear, Kelsey grasped Rue’s elbow with her free hand, keeping her from falling.

  As soon as Rue had regained her footing, she wrenched the phone from Kelsey’s hand. “Listen to me, you damned werewolf,” she shouted. “I don’t care what kind of fucked-up plans you’re hatching, but if you lay one hand on Danny, I swear—”

  “Um,” a female voice came through the phone, “I’m not a werewolf.”

  Rue smashed her hand against the sink, making Kelsey retreat until her back hit the wall. “Shape-shifter, then. I couldn’t care less about the politically correct term for a monster who hurts fourteen-year-old boys.”

  “I’m not a shape-shifter, and I’m not out to hurt Danny,” the woman on the phone said. “I know you don’t believe me, but—”

  “Damn right!”

  “Rue.” Kelsey laid her hand on Rue’s arm. “If you want to save Danny, you need to—”

  Rue wrenched her arm away. “Are you threatening me?”

  Shaggy hair fell into earnest orange-brown eyes as Kelsey shook her head. “No. I’m only trying to help.”

  “I told you before I don’t need your damned help!” Rue shouted. Hiring Kelsey might be what had gotten her into this mess in the first place.

  “Yes, you do,” the calm voice on the phone said. “I understand what you’re going through.” Rue snorted, but the woman ignored her and kept talking. “Last year, a bunch of shape-shifters chased me all over Michigan and nearly killed me because they thought I knew about their secret existence. If I hadn’t trusted Griffin, one of the shape-shifters, I’d be dead now.”

  Next to Rue, Kelsey winced.

  Rue stared at her. Could Kelsey hear the woman on the phone? Had she been able to listen in on all of Rue’s phone calls? She forced her attention back to the conversation. “And now you’re in league with them?” What was this, some kind of Stockholm syndrome?

 

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