Sanctuary: A dark urban fantasy (Shifter Chronicles Book 1)

by Amade, Melle

  “Maybe I’m patrolling for dumb people that shouldn’t be out alone in the woods at night,” he says without a smile.

  “But, it’s ok for you?” I ask. He shrugs. I inhale. The smell of his leather coat grounds me. Maybe I’ve asked the wrong people. Maybe I shouldn’t have tried to get the answer out of Zan or Roman. Maybe I should have gone to the source. “Callum, I was running right next to you at the party the night… the night Jon was killed.”

  He turns to look me.

  “I saw what you did.” The words tumble out daring him to deny it.

  “What did I do, Shae?”

  “You turned into a raven.” I state it as if I’m a hundred percent sure.

  “Do you believe it’s even possible?” He doesn’t even blink.

  I have to pause and think about his question. “I don’t think I would have believed it if I hadn’t seen it,” I say. “But, I saw it. I saw you turn into a raven.”

  He shakes his head. “No. No, Shae, you didn’t.”

  His voice is so sincere and his expression so clear, my mind rattles around in the unsolved riddle.

  “But -”

  “I saw the raven, too,” he says. “I thought it was weird that a raven was flying around in the middle of the night. They’re not nocturnal. But, now I realize it must have been spooked out of the woods by the mountain lion’s attack…” his voice trails off.

  “But -”

  “It startled me, too. I jumped towards it. Must have been what you saw.”

  I replay the moment. “It was dark,” I murmur.

  “It was,” he says and it all clicks together.

  “You must think I’m such an idiot,” I say.

  “No,” he shakes his head. “I like your imagination.”

  “My craziness,” I mutter. How could I think people can turn into animals?

  “I wish I could shift into a raven,” he smiles. “Make it a lot easier to patrol these woods.”

  “You’re not really out here hunting the mountain lion are you?” My brow furrows.

  “No,” he shakes his head. “I came to bring Aiden and Zan back. I know they want privacy, but I can’t have what happened -” his voice chokes before he can continue, “-what happened to Jon and Naomi happen to them.”

  My heart lurches. He was at camp. Of course he knows about Aiden and Zan. I’m the only one who didn’t. The wall separating me from my friends is becoming unsurmountable.

  “How -” I choke on the words but I need to know and Callum seems to be the one who’ll talk. “How long have they been going out?”

  Callum shrugs. “No idea. Just at the end of camp. You know how Aiden plays everything close to his chest.”

  I keep my face a mask, but my body lurches from the pain in my heart.

  Callum peers at me. “You okay?”

  I nod. “Yeah.” What else can I say? No? I’m messed up because my best friend and my fantasy boyfriend are in love? Urgh. The thought sticks a knife in my side and twists it.

  “Liar.” His smile is wan. His thumb reaches up and rubs along my cheekbone.

  “I’m fine,” I say.

  “No you aren’t.” He leans forward. “You’re too stubborn to let anyone know.”

  “I’m stubborn?” I pull back. I need some space, but there’s nowhere to go.

  “Like attracts like,” he murmurs and this time when he inclines his head, I don’t pull back. I sit there, my body tingles as the energy shifts around us. But, as his lips brush against mine I retreat, sit up straight and push him away. “No,” I say.

  “What?” Callum asks.

  “I - I - I don’t…” But, the words fade. Our energy merges like a coat of lacquer sliding wet and glistening over my body; my hands wipe at my legs to push it off.

  “What are you doing?” There’s a dry chuckle under his even tone.

  “Nothing.” My hands flail for a second before they pause in my lap. “I’m confused,” I murmur. My whole body flushes with heat and anxiety. I don’t know what’s happening, but I need something. I need something different other than this lame awkwardness that surrounds me.

  I turn on Callum, grab his coat, and pull him towards me. I smash my lips into his and bring our bodies against each other; hot static courses through me and wipes away all thoughts of Aiden. I’m lost in the white noise of this moment.

  I don’t know what I’m doing, but Callum seems to. Before I know it his tongue is tangled up with mine and I savor his urgency. I cling to him lost in a moment so far away from my world that I love it. It’s so close to oblivion; an oblivion where everything is perfect. My hands move up his neck until my fingers are tangled in his hair and I press my thighs against his and lean into him as his hands grip my waist. I don’t know how he’s doing it, but he’s sliding his hand inside the top of my dress. The heat of his hands surges into me; as they slip under my breasts.

  The pressure of our bodies snaps the moment in two.

  I pull back, my breath rasps from my throat.

  “Oh no,” I murmur.

  His lids are half closed; his nostrils flare with shallow breath. The corner of his mouth pulls up as he reaches for me. “It’s okay I won’t hurt you.”

  “No,” I stand up before my hands do something stupid, like press his mouth into mine again.

  “Shae, relax.” He soothes me like I’m a wild animal.

  “I…” My fingers touch my tender lower lip. I just had my first kiss and my second kiss in the same day.

  “Come here.” He curls his hand around my fingers.

  “No.” I repeat the word to make sure I hear myself. My insides yell, yes! This is too hot, too dangerous. If I don’t say no now, I don’t think I’ll be able to at all.

  “We’re just kissing.” He tugs at my fingers, looking up at me from beneath his black locks.

  “That wasn’t just kissing,” I stammer, take a step back, and withdraw my fingers from his.

  “Come here.” His tone is playful.

  How could I have enjoyed it so much? I spent the summer imagining kissing Aiden. My body still tingles from Callum’s lips. It’s as if my insides woke up. “Something’s happening to me,” I murmur. There’s a spiral in my head that keeps spinning it around. I didn’t know hormones could feel like this.

  “I can’t think straight around you.” He hovers towards me.

  I take a step back, fingers pushing against my temples. “No,” I say it loudly, because I don’t want to say it at all.

  “You mean yes?” His smile coaxes me towards him.

  “No!” My hand jerks up, lands on his chest and I push myself back. “I mean no.” I smother whatever my insides were just doing; muffle them beneath deep gasps of breath. My body retreats from rebellion. “I can’t,” I say and look up into Callum’s eyes pleading with him to understand me.

  He understands too well.

  “You’re not his type,” he whispers; he stands, head cocked to the side watching me.

  “Whose?” I mutter, teetering in the stillness.

  Coarse laughter falls from his mouth and scatters into the night. “Even if he was into you instead of Zan,” his words are steel cold, “you wouldn’t get his father’s approval in a million years.”

  My head jerks away from his cruelty, but Callum doesn’t apologize. He’s already turned and moved off into the shadows of the woods; my shoulders hunch forward to stifle the ache in my chest.

  8

  Thoughts of Aiden, Zan and Callum spin in my head, but my feet know the way home. I lurch forward.

  I’ve gone a few steps when the air shifts. My senses sharpen. The wet oak and earthen smell is tainted with a pungent, feral twist. I scan the trees. I can’t see anything, but I know something is there.

  “Callum?” Maybe he’s come back to make sure I get home safe. But, his name fades into the dark. If it’s not Callum, who is out there? Or, what?

  I slip away from the stream, controlling my breath to keep my fear out of the air. A strange silenc
e has descended on the hills. No animals rustle in the undergrowth or fly in the trees. The acrid taint in the air grows stronger and my insides go still. I need to move up the ridge and behind a tree; get to higher ground.

  But, it’s too late. A low growl travels through the air and I turn. Crouched with hind legs bent and ready to spring, is a huge, snarling mountain lion.

  This is the last thing Naomi and Jon saw before they were torn to bits. Cold anger drops through my skull from the top of my head. But, I’m no match for this wild beast.

  His ear is torn and his eyes are a frightening, familiar yellow. He leaps towards me, mouth gaping and claws primed to rip into my skin.

  I turn and bolt, feet slam into the soft earth.

  A shriek fills the air. I think it’s me, but it’s not. A giant eagle drops out of the sky and grips its talons into the mountain lion’s neck, pulling it off balance. The beast twists, spiraling through the air to rid itself of the hooks and beak, which rip into its flesh. Bird and lion fall to the ground in a flurry of feathers, teeth, claws and fur. It’s like a painting in Aiden’s house has come to life.

  I tumble onto the wet dirt. In a split second I’m up and sprinting. My breath rasps in my chest. I’m about to drop down a gully when the air is torn with an ear-charring screech. The mountain lion grinds its maw around the eagle’s wing. Cold resentment swells. I’m far enough away they can’t smell me. I hope. I dive into the underbrush.

  The eagle shrieks again, its beak twisting skyward as blood flows from its wing. Frigid anger floods into my heart and pushes into my arms. My whole body wants to hurl itself into the fray and rip the mountain lion off the eagle, sink my teeth into its neck and watch it bleed.

  My hand grips a branch, its coarse bark scratches my skin, breaking the surface. I have to control myself or they will tear me apart.

  The two beasts are still entangled, their breaths rattle through their bodies, but their energy fades, the attacks less vicious. Their blood sport dwindles to sparring.

  It’s difficult to see in the darkness but, something more is happening, like the night Jon and Naomi died. It’s exactly what I saw happen to Callum. Their features change!

  I rub my eyes.

  Feather and fur fades as ears, noses, beaks and wings recede. Legs shift and their bodies grow lean and tall. The two figures stand upright and -

  Callum lied.

  I can’t believe what I see. Naked flesh flashes in the dark woods for a split second before clothes appear and there, in front of me in jeans and t-shirts, are Aiden and the scar eye guy!

  I wobble on my feet and slip over backwards. I stare up at the branches of the tree.

  I saw that.

  I know I saw that.

  And I saw Callum turn into a raven, too.

  9

  It is real.

  “Can’t handle the blood loss, little eagle? Need to heal?” The scar eye guy taunts.

  Aiden’s left arm is bloody and hanging limp, but he rounds on the man, catching him with a right hook. “You can’t hunt humans on our land, Vasquez.”

  Vasquez’s head swings to the side and then back. “You seem pretty concerned about this particular human.” He wipes the blood off a small cut in his lip and licks his finger. “Aren’t you worried she might still be watching?”

  I shrink farther into the underbrush. I’m far enough away and downwind, they shouldn’t be able to tell I’m here.

  “That human’s not an idiot,” Aiden says. “She’s long gone.”

  “Perhaps.” Vasquez licks a large, bloody gash on his arm.

  I duck lower into the bushes. The guy I’ve known my whole life, the guy I’ve been dreaming about all summer, he can turn into an eagle. And, he speaks like I’m a different species. Like, I’m a human and he’s not. We’re not the same.

  Which… we aren’t.

  This, this is what Zan was trying to tell me. My hand slips over my mouth. Whatever Callum, Aiden and Vasquez are, Zan must be one, too. My mind races over the scenes at the Van Arend Manor. They must all be this… people that can become animals.

  “Why were you hunting a human,” Aiden asks.

  “I wasn’t hunting,” says Vasquez. “I was investigating. Sanction 586 states: If a Member suspects any suspicious behavior, they can test the suspect. And, I’d say a human at a shifter wake is a little suspicious. Know your law, eaglet, you’ll need it if you take over one day.”

  “You were about to kill her.”

  Vasquez shrugs. “One forgets one’s self sometimes. I mean, we are animals.”

  “We’re shifters.” Aiden shakes his head. “We’re a step above animals.”

  “And humans,” Vasquez smiles. His lip curls up and a pointed tooth catches the moonlight. A tremble ripples through my bones. Is he the mountain lion that killed Jon and Naomi? How can Aiden stand there and talk to him? This, this… shifter is a murderer.

  “Who called you on Jon and Naomi?” Aiden asks as if he can pick up my thoughts.

  “Classified information,” Vasquez’s voice is a low threat.

  The air drains from my lungs. I suck in shallow, rapid breaths to get some oxygen, but my head is light and dizzy. A buzz fills my ears as my limbs burst with prickles. In a split second Aiden and Vasquez both turn and peer towards my spot in the underbrush. I shrink back, but there’s nowhere to go.

  “Come on.” Aiden grabs Vasquez’s arm. “You’ll want to be there when I report this to my father.”

  Vasquez shakes his arm away from Aiden. “Fine, eaglet, but there’s a human in these woods right now and if she’s seen us, she’s broken our laws.”

  “You can’t decide laws are broken.” Aiden takes a step closer to Vasquez trying to block him from my view. “You have to prove it.”

  “You know what they say,” Vasquez says, and to my horror he looks around Aiden and straight at me, “you can run, but you can’t hide.”

  As Aiden and Vasquez disappear into the shadows of the woods I realize; I’ve become his prey.

  I stumble up from the creek on the constricted path that leads to our backyard. There’s no fence on this side of our property, there’s no need. No one lives back here except the trees and the animals.

  The animals.

  I glance over my shoulder. Thought they were animals. Can’t be sure anymore. My steps veer off the trail and I collide with the chicken coop, smacking my face against the weathered boards with a loud bang. Inside the chickens start to squawk and rustle. I press my hands against the wooden wall.

  Are they really just chickens?

  I shouldn’t disturb them, but I have to see reassure myself they’re just normal chickens, animals with feathers and talons. The wall along the back of the coop has a series of small doors in it at the height of my face. Each one leads to a chicken’s nest. My fingers wrap around the cold metal bolt and jiggle it softly to loosen it. This is the normal way we get eggs each morning, but now my hand shakes slightly as the pin slides back.

  The little plywood door has warped in the rain and wind, it sticks against the frame and I have to tug to get it loose. The smell of stale chicken poop and fetid dry grain wafts over my face. Our Rhode Island Red hen squawks at me, blinking her eyes a few times in the light of my phone. The wind ruffles her feathers as I stare at her closely, bringing my eyes right up to hers. I try to find some sign of intelligence that tells me she’s more than just a chicken.

  “Hi, Georgia,” I say. “You’re a chicken right?”

  She blinks back at me, both her eyelids swapping over her eye in a rhythmic pattern. I reach forward and smooth out her feathers. She’s just a chicken. Suddenly she lashes out with her sharp yellow beak and gouges the side of my face.

  “Ah!” I bang the door shut, slamming the bolt. “Stupid bird.”

  But, maybe I shouldn’t be sticking my face right up to an animal. It’s not a lot of blood, but it slips warm against my fingers. Instinctively I bring my fingers to my lips.

  No.

  That
’s what Vasquez did. I wipe my fingers on my jeans.

  The light in my parent’s stairwell is on when I slip into the house. I sidestep around it, but my foot catches on the Moroccan prayer rug and I lurch forward against the door. My gaze lands on two dusty prints that have been hanging on the wall of the staircase my whole life. Only now, I see them different.

  They are angels; humans with wings.

  The images pull at me. Draw me up the taboo steps. Stairs I’ve been scared of ever since I can remember. I’ve never dared to pass the doorway that leads to Mom’s sanctuary and go anywhere near her private world.

  Chills race up my legs as I place my foot on the first step. I shift my weight and the step groans. But, I have to see these prints. There’s no handrail. My fingers tremble as I press into the faded floral wallpaper and rise up to the first print. The angel stands on the chest of a screaming, naked man. Blood pours from the man’s side as the angel presses a spike deep into his flesh. The face of the angel is vengeful and angry pushing all of its bulging muscles into the wound to kill the human. But, it’s not the man I’m interested in; it’s the wings on the angel. I trace my fingers along the dusty print. Without the wings, the angel would look just like a human. I know now humans can turn into birds, but can shifters do this? Can they be humans with wings?

  My brow creases. What a garish image my parents walk past every night on their way to bed.

  The other angel print is just steps from my parent’s bedroom door. I steady my breath. The door isn’t completely closed, but Mom doesn’t usually come back down after she’s gone up for the night, and I really want to see that print. Cautiously I creep up the stairs. Three angels, brimming with peace and comfort, play wooden instruments as they hover over a mother and child. The mother is pleading for the baby’s life. I look at the baby’s ghoulish skin. I don’t think it’s going to make it. I reach out with a finger and touch the baby.

  “I do that every time I walk by.” Mom’s voice startles me, even though she’s whispering. “When your dad first hung those I thought it was ghoulish. But, then, well - it makes me think of you.”