by Cali Mann
“I’m not a pedophile,” he muttered.
I stood, hands on my hips. “Then mind your own damn business.” I shoved his tray into his gut, not nearly hard enough to hurt him, and sauntered away.
“What was that about?” Alex asked.
“Just some old pervert who can’t keep his eyes to himself.”
Alex rolled his eyes. “Not everything is about sex, Sasha.”
I shook my head. “I’ve told you pervs love blond, blue-eyed kids like us. You have to be careful. ”
He snorted. “Not everyone’s a user.”
“But they are, Alex. Everyone is out to get something or someone.”
“I hope that’s not true,” Alex said, raising his baby-blue eyes to mine. “For your sake as much as anybody’s. You deserve someone who will love you for you, Sash.”
“I have that. I got you.” I flicked a fry at him and laughed when he ducked. “When did you get to be such a romantic?”
He shrugged.
I shook my head. My baby brother might be almost as tall as me, but he was still so young. I didn’t know how he’d held on to his sensitive soul in a house like ours, but I was grateful for it. He reminded me that there might be some goodness in the world. I just hoped—my eyes darted to the old guy—that the world didn’t decide to stomp out Alex’s light. I’d fought my whole life to keep his artistic soul safe, and I’d do it until my dying breath.
After we ate, I cleared the tray and Alex took out his sketchbook again.
“Sasha,” he said. “Um . . . how long do we have to stay?”
I stared out the window. The street was dark now, lit by the headlights of passing cars and the streetlights. “I don’t know.”
“They should be doing it by now, shouldn’t they?” he said.
I snorted. “She doesn’t let them argue for long.”
Couldn’t she hang a sock on the door or something? Some sign that it was safe. She knew this was about the time we’d come home. It wasn’t like we had cell phones or anything. Of course, sometimes she got as drunk as her men and forgot we existed. I sighed and shrugged. “Let’s go. Either they’ll be busy, or they won’t. He already knows we exist.”
“’Kay,” Alex said, feigning casualness. We’d been the victims of enough of Mom’s fury to not want to piss her off. Still, he slid his sketchbook into his backpack, and we headed out.
It didn’t take us long to reach the house, and when we opened the door, we didn’t hear any voices. As we tiptoed down the hall, a masculine grunt and a feminine sigh erupted from Mom’s room. I met Alex’s eyes, and we both held back our laughter with sheer force of will.
3
Sasha
We didn’t see or hear anything about Mom’s new lover for several days after that. But he must have been by, because later that week, there were leftovers from one of Mom’s favorite Italian places in the fridge. By that evidence, we assumed he’d gotten over her having kids.
Not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, I grabbed the leftovers on Friday after school, and Alex and I had a feast on the balcony.
Whenever the weather was nice enough—and even when it wasn’t—we both preferred to be outside instead of locked up in the apartment. We were allowed to go into any room as long as Mom wasn’t entertaining. The apartment was a nice one. Mom furnished it lavishly, or rather, her lovers did. In the living room, she kept a large screen television—a gift from a friend. But who wanted to sit on a couch that someone had made out on? Who knew what grossness was there? If Alex really wanted to watch something, we’d sit on the carpeted floor.
I leaned back in my wicker chair, my stomach full. Tucked into the corner of the balcony, this chair was way more comfortable than the bistro chairs Alex preferred. Resting my head against the chair back, I stared at the ceiling. What would be our punishment this time? It seemed like whoever he was, he’d kept coming back, so it shouldn’t be too bad. Well, it wouldn’t be if our mother was a sane, rational woman. Only she wasn’t. I swallowed, wishing I’d grabbed the half-bottle of wine she’d left in the fridge as well as the food.
Hell, why not? We were gonna get blasted anyway for exposing ourselves and eating her favorite leftovers—might as well have the wine, too. I stood, stretching my back. “You need anything, Alex?”
He grunted at me, which I took for a ‘no’.
Turning, I flipped open the door and marched into the kitchen. This room always creeped me out. Not because Mom used it for amorous activities, but because all the walls and all the appliances—everything—sparkled pure white. It looked like a designer show, not like anyone lived here. Which I guess we didn’t, not really. Mom ate with her clients mostly, and occasionally she lived off leftovers or wine. I fed us, and I kept Alex’s blood in a small dorm fridge in our room that I’d gotten from the thrift store. After I’d caught her drinking it, I knew I had to store it out of sight.
I leaned on the cool fridge door and searched for the half-full bottle of Pinot Noir I’d seen. Ah! There it was. I grabbed it by the neck, turned around and froze at the sight of the man looming behind me.
He was the one from the other night: brown—almost black—hair, sharp eyes, and a broad frame. He wore slacks and a button-down dress shirt opened to the waist. Handsome, if you liked that clean-cut type, and Mom did, but there was something about his energy that felt off. His gaze trailed up and down me, and I shivered, even though I was fully clothed. It wasn’t a sexual look, though. It was angry like he was just holding himself back from ripping me to shreds.
“You must be the fucking spirit shifter,” he sneered, leaning his arm on the fridge door and pushing me back against the shelves. “Why the hell did she let you live?”
I felt like I’d been punched in the gut. Why the fuck had she told him? The thing she told us to never tell anyone, ever? I growled. The same deep-in-my-throat, wolfy growl that the old guy had done in the restaurant. The same growl I’d used in my dreams last night.
“Calm down, little wolfy,” he said, scowling. “I’m not turning you in.” His fingers tapped on the top of the door, and his eyes bored into me. The violence in their depths made my stomach twist.
I dropped my gaze. In my anger that she’d told him, I hadn’t even considered what he’d do. Our race hated spirit shifters, and apparently, this guy was an example of that. His violent intentions rolled off him in waves, and I couldn’t stop staring at his fingers and their incessant movement. “What are you?”
He laughed and, reaching out a hand, grabbed my arm. Heat roared across it, scalding my skin, and I couldn’t help the whimper that escaped me.
Biting my lip until I tasted blood, I yanked my arm away and cradled it against my chest. “What the fuck do you want?”
“Nothing.” He shrugged, but a gleam shone in his eye. “Not yet.”
The promise in that ‘yet’ made me shudder, and he smirked at my reaction. He searched my face, looking for who knows what, but after what felt like an eternity, he dismissed me with a jerk of his head.
Holding the wine bottle against my chest, I fled. When I stumbled onto the balcony, I shoved the door shut behind me and leaned against it.
Alex lifted his eyes from his work and asked, “You okay?” A puzzled frown etched its way across his forehead.
“No,” I said, shaking my head. “I’m not.”
He set his work down and peered at me more closely. “What happened?”
“Our Mom’s new guy is a psychopath,” I said.
Alex was on his feet almost instantly. “What’d he do?” he snarled, his fangs prominent in the porch light.
I set the bottle down and curled my hands around his upper arms. He was vibrating with so-far contained energy. “Hold it.”
“What’d he do?” he repeated, peering behind me at the curtain-draped door.
I dug my nails into my brother’s skin, getting his attention. “He’s a shifter,” I hissed. “A shit-ass powerful one.”
Taking a breath, Alex asked,
“So?”
“She told him about me.”
“No.” He pressed his fist to his teeth. “Are you safe?”
“Yes,” I said, pushing more confidence into my voice than I felt. “For now.”
“What’s wrong with her?”
I shook my head. I didn’t know. Why would she do it? What possible reason could she have for mentioning that her daughter was a hated spirit shifter?
“But we can’t go up against him, Alex,” I insisted. “Not now.”
Alex grunted, but his energy eased. We’d learned long ago that there were some fights we couldn’t take on. As impulsive as his vampirism made him, Alex was a smart kid—he knew I was right.
Why had we even told her? To be honest, it hadn’t been intentional. Scared by the intensity of my dreams, Alex had gone to her out of desperation. Shifters dream of their element when they reach their teens, but spirit shifters dream of all the elements. Chasing rabbits and howling all night we could handle. It was the nights I’d wake up drenched for no reason that were the problem, or even worse, the times I’d wake up on fire.
Uneasily, my brother returned to his seat and I followed. There was nothing we could do. I opened the bottle and poured wine down my throat. The dark berry flavor of it reminded me I was okay. I handed the bottle to Alex, and he took a swallow. We were safe for now. Leaning back, I gazed up at the moon that hung low over the city streets. The dark shapes of the mountains lined the horizon, and I wondered if Alex and I wouldn’t be better off if we just ran away. But I was scared for him. I didn’t know if I could get him somewhere safe before I went mad.
* * *
The next day at work, I scrubbed down the underside of Rufus’s coat, his soft curls made even more slippery by the soap. Who would name their poodle Rufus? I snorted and glanced toward the blue-haired customer pacing along the front windows. That idiot. She was the bane of my existence with her constant questions and nagging. ‘Did you get his bum, Sasha? You know he likes to hide dirt there.’ ‘Yes, Fucktard, I cleaned his ass. Now leave me alone to do my damn job.’ At least that’s how I wanted to answer her, but Gary my boss paced right alongside her and I liked my job. I didn’t want to lose it.
Washing Rufus’s ass, I sighed. After the scene with the guy last night, Alex and I had cleaned up the balcony and snuck back to our room. I couldn’t believe we’d been so distracted by the food that we hadn’t heard Mom come home. We were rarely that careless. At least, I wasn’t.
And what the hell did that asshole mean by, ‘not yet’? It’d been bugging me all day. He didn’t want to turn me in. That would be too easy for someone like him. He wanted to use me for something, but what?
Rufus barked, and his owner was instantly by our side.
“What is it, baby?” she fussed, giving me the side-eye. “Is Sasha being too harsh?”
“No, I am not being too—” I stopped. Just outside the window stood the old guy from the fast-food restaurant. He leaned against a utility pole in his corduroy jacket with the elbow patches—scruffy but not exactly homeless. That’s who the dog had been barking at.
Shit. I shoved my scrub brush into the finicky owner’s hands and marched towards the door.
My boss, Gary, jumped in front of me. “Stop. You need to finish the cleaning.”
I walked around him.
“Sasha, I thought you wanted this job,” he simpered.
Turning, I put my hand on my hip. “You wouldn’t do that.”
“I will,” he said, his eyes darting to the sputtering customer behind us.
Reaching up, I curled my fingers in the collar of his shirt and met his eyes. “And when I tell your wife about the blowjob it took me to get a raise this year?”
He blinked, sweat breaking out across his brow. “It d-didn’t.”
It hadn’t. That was one of the reasons I liked this job. Gary was devoted to his wife, but I also knew she was a jealous old cow. I smirked. “Maybe not, but do you think Sheila will believe you?”
His Adam’s apple bobbed along his throat as he swallowed nervously.
“I won’t be gone long.” I released him and jerked my head towards the dog. “Keep Rufus’s owner busy.”
Gary nodded, hurrying toward the irate customer.
I strolled out the door, hoping that the creeper was still there, that I hadn’t put my job on the line for nothing. Blinking in the bright sunlight, I found him sitting on a park bench.
Squeezing my hands into fists, I marched over to him. “What do you want, old man?”
He laughed. “Young pups are so arrogant.”
“Why are you following me?” And have you been doing it for days? Was he somehow in the employ of Mom’s angry lover?
He tilted his head to the side. “I’m a recruiter.”
“For what?” I crossed my arms over my chest.
“For Thornbriar Academy,” he said slowly, watching me. “It’s a school for shifters.”
I forced my brow to wrinkle. “For what?”
My thoughts whirled with a million questions. How did he know we were shifters? What gave us away? Had Alex had his fangs out and I hadn’t realized it? I thought we’d been well hidden, and all of a sudden, everyone and their brother knew what we were. Was it Mom? Was she shooting off her mouth somewhere?
He smiled. “You know exactly what I’m talking about.”
“No, sorry.” I shrugged and turned back toward the store.
“Sasha,” he said. “I’m just trying to help.”
“Well, stop,” I said, marching back inside.
Rufus gave me a long-suffering look as Gary tried to wash him. I let out a strangled laugh. There’d been a reason my boss hired me for this job. I took the brush from Gary and got to work finishing up Rufus’s grooming. We just cleaned dogs; we didn’t make them ready for show. That’s probably what Mrs. Fussypants really wanted but wasn’t willing to pay for.
I pretended to focus on the dog, but my mind was really on my encounter with the man. I didn’t even know his name. What kind of idiot follows kids around and says he’s a recruiter but never gives his name? I jerked the brush, and Rufus growled. “Shh,” I said soothingly. “It’s okay.”
But it really wasn’t. What was this Thornbriar Academy? A school for shifters? It sounded too good to be true. What if I could send Alex there and he’d be fed and clothed and taught how to control his nature? I snorted. Yeah, like they’d do that for just anyone. We’d probably have to have money to send him there, and they’d want to look into me, too. We couldn’t have them finding out what kind of shifter I was.
4
Sasha
We walked home silently that night. I didn’t know about Alex, but my mind was racing. Would I be attacked by Mom’s lover again? Would the old guy follow us home? Who had told people we were shifters? How had they found out? Really, we needed to talk to Mom about what the hell all this was.
Alex looked around as we approached the door, and I laughed.
“Looking for a sign she’s here?” I asked.
“Yeah,” he said.
“Try sniffing.”
He snorted. “Sniffing what? Glue?”
I punched his arm. “No, dummy. You’re a vampire. You have enhanced senses. What do you smell?”
Alex screwed up his face and sniffed loudly. I rolled with laughter.
“What?” he asked.
“Just take a whiff, like normal, not like a greyhound trying to find a scent.”
“’Kay,” he said and closed his eyes.
I tapped my foot, less than patient with the waiting. I’d rather have just charged in and dealt with the consequences later. But Mrs. Everett had said the more chances he had to practice his vampiric skills, the better he’d get at them.
“I smell dog.”
“Well, sure, lots of people have dogs around here.”
“No,” he said slowly, “not domestic dog. It’s like a wolf.”
“That’s probably just me. I’ve been running with the
wolves every night.” Earth phase was the easiest of the elements. I might wake with odd tastes in my mouth or muscles that were a little sore from ‘running’ all night, but that was all.
He glanced at me and scoffed. “It’s not. I know your scent.”
“What other wolf would have been here?” I rocked back on my heels, trying to think. Mom’s lover was a fire shifter . . . then I blinked. The old guy, the recruiter . . . it had to be. I peered around, looking for him, but I didn’t spot him. “Is it fresh?”
“Not exactly,” Alex said. “Maybe the last couple of hours.”
“Good,” I said. “Anything else?”
He rolled his eyes.
“Like Mom’s perfume?” I asked, scowling at him. “Or maybe fire dude?”
“’Kay.” He took a breath and closed his eyes again. After a couple of minutes, he said, “Yeah, Mom, but no one else.”
“Well, then, here goes nothing,” I said, shoving the key in the lock. I hoped Mom was home alone because we had some questions that needed answers.
We stepped inside; the apartment was quiet, no music from the kitchen or even the low whine of a TV show put on for company. Mom didn’t tolerate silence.
Both of us moved forward, checking each room along the hall. The living room was empty, though a half-full glass of wine sat on the coffee table. I frowned. That wasn’t like her, either. She liked things to be clean and perfect, especially when she had guests.
We peeked into the kitchen, and all seemed normal. The bathroom was empty, and we stopped at Mom’s door. I raised my hand to knock, but Alex shook his head.
“What?” I hissed.
His lips pressed together, and he watched me with worried eyes. I could feel the tension radiating off him.
“What is it?” I whispered. We were alone. I didn’t know why I was whispering, but something churned in my gut.
“Dunno.” He shrugged. “Bad feeling.”
“Like you smell something bad? Or hear something wrong?” I asked, not willing to admit that it felt off to me too. Something had happened to Mom, and I didn’t want Alex to see whatever was behind this door.