Fate's Edge: A SkinWalker Novel #6: A DarkWorld Series (DarkWorld: SkinWalker)

by T. G. Ayer

  Should the truth come out, things would certainly change. A long time ago, centuries from what our texts tell us, shifters revealed themselves in a small village on the outskirts of Istanbul. The shifters were benevolent, believing they could offer the humans their strength to build and hunt.

  But what they hadn’t expected was the insidious fire of envy. The villagers despised them for their strength and feared them for their animal forms. And soon, what had begun as an attempt to live peacefully with, and offer help to, the humans among whom they lived, turned into a bloodbath.

  Shifters were massacred in their sleep, and those who weren’t killed in that first wave were hunted down until they’d either been exterminated, or had found a way to escape.

  I was so deep within my thoughts that I didn’t see the minivan until it was swerving around the corner to come straight at me. They hit me on the back tire sending the bike into a spin.

  As I began to spin around, I sprang from the saddle, desperate to get clear. If I ended up on the ground, the bike could land on top of me which could be very bad for my health and for my bones.

  Rolling over, I landed on all fours and boosted to my feet, grabbing both my knives from my boots as I straightened. The door of the minivan slid open with a grunt of metal on metal, and four masked men jumped out, all racing at me at the same time.

  They were dressed in SWAT gear, bulletproof jackets, helmets hiding their faces, and dark military issue boots.

  I swiped at the first guy as he came, slicing his jacket open on the bicep, my blade cutting deep into muscle and hitting bone. He yelled and fell to the side, and I turned my attention to the next man coming at me.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a third attacker racing at me. I didn’t wait for him to arrive, instead throwing one of my knives straight at him. The blade spun in the air, over and over, so fast I myself could barely see it. The knife hit him square in the throat with a dull sucking sound, and the man fell, landing hard on his knees before crumbling to the ground.

  Before his head hit blacktop, the second attacker was throwing his first punch at my head. I ducked and edged to the side, slamming my forearm down onto his. He swung his hand out of the way and crouched then turned, kicking his leg out at my knee. But I was quick, predicting his next move and boosting off the ground, light on my feet with a feline spring. I avoided the kick, landed on the balls of my feet and slammed my booted foot hard at his crotch.

  He was close enough for me to bury my blade into his chest, but I wanted to save my only other weapon just in case. A kick to the balls was effective enough to have the man on his knees, cradling his crotch and moaning, no longer a threat to me.

  I landed a kick to his head which had him slumping to the ground, unconscious. Pity, as I would have been happier the longer he’d spent suffering. But I had to pay attention to the final attacker, which meant eliminating any other possible threats.

  My attention was distracted by a fifth man who jumped from the van and yelled, “Stop wasting time and get her in here.” His tone was authoritative and impatient.

  I was surprised at his words, wondering what made him think it was so darn easy when I’d been knocking each of his men out with ease.

  Electricity slammed into my body, familiar after having been exposed to the experience in Rome.

  Shit.

  My body shook with the power that coursed through me, and I slumped to the ground, knife clenched within my tightened grip. The two remaining men moved fast, grabbing me by my hands and feet and tossing me unceremoniously into the back of the van.

  They must have had a sixth man driving because before I even hit the floor, the van took off, tires screeching as it spun in a tight turn and sped off down the street. I rolled over, still feeling the effects of the electricity running through my body.

  I was getting particularly fed up with being shocked. I’m pretty sure it’s not good for a person’s brain, and I needed to retain control of all the gray cells I was currently in possession of.

  As I tried to get up onto my knees, the tip of a boot smashed into my back, pressing my face to the floor. “I wouldn’t get up if I were you,” a man said, his voice rough and low as he bent over me and slipped a pair of handcuffs around my wrists. He jerked them hard to ensure they were locked before sitting back with a grunt.

  Craning my neck, I squinted up at him, about to ask, ‘Why the hell not?’ and “Who was going to stop me?’ when the blonde woman at his side raised her bare hands from her lap and held them in front of her.

  Her fingers were thin and dainty, the nails painted a pale coral. As she moved her hands apart and then closer together, bright white light sparked between them. Lightning crackled in the space between her palms, ragged bright lines sparking and forking from fingertip to fingertip while the smell of ozone filled the back of the van.

  I froze.

  But it wasn’t the electric display that stilled my blood. Nor was it the fact that all my assailants were armed and I’d killed one and injured two very badly.

  No. It was the fact that the blonde’s form had shimmered for the briefest moment, becoming cloudy, gray, and almost turning into a patch of shadow.

  I’d just been captured by a Shadowman.

  Chapter 15

  I lay on the floor of the minivan, wracking my brain. I didn’t care for the cuffs, but overall they didn’t pose a problem.

  My panther one the other hand was furious. So angry that I could sense the change in my skin and I knew if I didn’t get her under control I’d soon be covered in patterned panther skin.

  I forced my feline side back down, cleared my throat and said, “I’m pretty sure you know that I can’t jump. And I’m cuffed. I’m not going to be jumping out of this van anytime soon. So can you at least allow me to sit up?”

  The blonde scoffed, but the guy relented and moved his boot. I’d had to ensure I managed to sit with my back away from him. I lifted myself up into a sitting position then shuffled toward the opposite side of the van, as far from the Electric Blonde as I could.

  He and the Shadowwoman were sitting on a long metal box while the injured man and his dead partner lay near the door at the back of the van. The final attacker had gone up front to sit beside the driver after he’d spoken a few words to the guy who was still letting out a few moans of pain every time the van hit a bump or took a too-sharp turn. He’d already attended to the attacker whose arm I’d cut open—who happened to have turned out to be a she and not a he—and now she leaned against the side of the van sending me deadly glares.

  For a moment I was distracted by the thought that I was pretty lucky that the attacker I’d decided to kick in the gonads had not turned out to be a girl. I would have been dead had that been the case.

  With my back against the opposite wall, I used the lockpick in my sleeve to open the locks on both of the cuffs, the light click was thankfully masked by the screeching of tires as the van sped through the streets.

  My panther surged up again, and I relented the tiniest bit, allowing my senses to sharpen, and my strength to build. All it would take to shift was a few seconds.

  The man across from me transferred his attention to the front of the vehicle, as if about to call out to one of the men up front, and I took my opportunity. The blonde too looked up ahead in expectation, and I shifted slowly. The process was agonizing given that I’d slowed it down, but as the main gunman began to speak I pushed the shift, and my panther flowed forward, jaw lengthened, skull shifting, the bones of my arms and legs transforming from human to cat.

  I tried not to think about how ridiculous I’d look running around the back of the van, a panther in torn human clothes. More often than not, shifting was a conscious choice, used very seldom in a reactionary response, which meant walkers were prepared, removing clothing and carrying a small pouch at their necks that contained a thin light garment for when we shifted back into a very naked human form.

  My panther wanted to let out a roar—perhaps
of triumph, but definitely one meant to instill terror—but I forced her to remain silent. Though the panther had almost taken full form, I was still in control.

  It was normal for walkers to consider their animal form as almost a separate entity but in actual fact, we were two parts of a whole, not even akin to a split personality. We were one and the same, but instinct and natural urges tended to adjust depending on which form was in control.

  Now, it was my panther who chomped at the bit, wanting to tear every occupant inside the minivan to pieces. But I reined her in.

  I surged forward, straight at the electric blonde, slashing hard at her neck. Blood spurted as I ripped her jugular open, spraying in an arc across the roof of the minivan. The scent of hot copper filled the van and brought out a fit of wild agony in my panther.

  I fought to control her, pulling her away from mauling the fallen woman who was now slumped onto the bottom of the van, blood pooling around her head. It had happened so fast that the masked attacker who’d been sitting right beside her had almost missed my strike. Likely he would have if he’d blinked at the wrong moment. As it was, he seemed almost frozen as he turned to meet my feline eyes as I hovered over him.

  I’d killed the woman only because I knew she had the ability to knock me senseless. But from what I could see, none of the other gang members possessed such a power. So, the man staring at me now could be dispatched just as easily. But I wasn’t planning on going on a killing spree.

  Still, I needed a way out. I lunged forward and grabbed him by the throat as he let out a shocked yell, my claws digging deep into his skin. The minivan freaked and skidded. His eyes were wide with shock, but a sudden gleam of anger filled them as he stared at me.

  “Weapons,” I growled, the word slightly distorted as it left my panther throat. I was aware on some level that the van had screeched to a halt and that two men were hovering at the narrow entrance to the front of the vehicle. At the door on the opposite end, the other two attackers, though injured, were also attempting to rise and pose a threat.

  When my captive didn’t immediately comply, I squeezed harder. Two seconds later a small pile of knives and guns dropped to the floor.

  As soon as he was weapon free, I turned and threw him straight at the two approaching men at my right. A gunshot went off, but I paid no attention as I turned and raced toward the back door. The two injured men wavered on their feet as they tried to block my exit. I had to commend their bravado, especially as they both drew guns from their hip holsters.

  I lunged at them, snapping my teeth at whatever bare skin came in my way. As I slammed into them, and then into the door, I could hear them cry out at being bitten. The impact of my shoulder on the doors threw them open, and I was free, sprinting into the daylight and racing down a street to my right.

  I’d put some distance between myself and my attackers, so I paused at the nearest corner and looked over my shoulder toward the minivan, still standing unmoving with its back doors wide open. The men stood watching me from the van, two of them aiming their cell phones at me, their faces appearing satisfied, or pleased, as if their injuries didn’t matter much to them.

  I hurried around the corner and out of their sight, then found a better spot from which to watch them. I scanned the area around the van, frowning now as I wondered as to the reason for their satisfaction. Had they planned for me to escape? Or was it that they were pleased that I’d revealed my panther and now they had it on camera?

  Had I been stupid to make such a choice, to shift with them there to witness it? Had I just played right into their hands?

  Fury filled me, fury at my own stupidity, and at the van full of attackers and whoever it was that they worked for. As I stared at them, I knew I couldn’t just run from here just to escape the danger. I had to find out more.

  The van hadn’t moved, and I suspected they were either trying to save the blonde or waiting for backup in order to come after me.

  I headed around the block and came up behind them at the front of the van, and waited, watching and listening.

  “How long more do we have to wait?” one of the men asked.

  “Five minutes. No more than ten.”

  “Why can’t we just dump the two bodies? They’re going to stink up the place.”

  “You try explaining that to Agent Hackett. The woman is one of those things. If she ends up in the wrong hands, there’ll be hell to pay.”

  One of them let out a laugh. “How ironic that she’s hunting her own people.”

  “They aren’t the same, numb nuts.”

  “They’re supes. That’s all I need to know. Shifters or lightning-people, I don’t give a shit. They’re just…weird.”

  “Gerry, I think it’s time you shut your hole. We’re on the job. Backup’s here in five. Why don’t you go take the east watch.” There was a short silence. “Now.”

  East watch?

  Excellent.

  I watched as Gerry moved toward the front of the minivan, gun in hand as though he were a soldier on patrol. He took up position on the corner of the street a few yards up from the van.

  I watched him for a minute, identifying a pattern in the way he scanned the intersection and the roads leading from his vantage point. He scanned in a non-stop movement, first the street on the right, then the one straight ahead, and ending with the one on his left—my direction.

  I counted how long he took for a full scan, then waited as he returned to my street. Then, the moment his head turned to scan the street on his right, I rushed forward, leaped into the air and body-slammed him. He fell hard to the ground, the gun clattering to the blacktop. I didn’t give him a chance to get to his feet.

  I shifted swiftly, then grabbed him from behind with now-human hands before he could catch his breath. Looping my arm around his neck, I grabbed him in a chokehold and held on tight. He struggled, grasping for my hand desperately as I cut the blood flow to his brain. Within ten seconds he was limp, and I let go, then grabbed a hold of him and threw him over my shoulder in a fireman’s carry. I drew on my panther for the strength to carry him, then glanced over my shoulder to make sure I hadn’t been spotted.

  The men behind the car had their attention on another black SUV that had just turned onto the street and was rolling to a stop beside them. I took a step back into the shadows. Though tempted to remain and attempt to eavesdrop on the men as they talked with their backup team, I knew that I had only so many seconds before my victim regained consciousness and I needed to get him as far away as possible.

  I’d reached nearly five blocks away, using my panther power to boost my speed, before my victim began to awaken. I dropped him to the ground and applied pressure to his carotid again. He passed out within seconds, and I carried him over my shoulder again, racing into the forest that hemmed in the city from the next block onward.

  Giant elms and oaks filled what had once been a public park. Now overgrown, it was a hangout for the homeless and drug addicted. I ran deeper into the park and sought out one of the more solid trees. With a wide trunk and thick branches, it looked strong enough to support my victim, even from the highest branches.

  I shifted him higher on my shoulder and began to climb. The journey was precarious as I had to balance him on my shoulder and use my panther strength, all while listening for his breathing in case he awakened before I reached my destination.

  I didn’t relish the thought of him falling and hitting dozens of branches before he landed on the floor of the forest.

  At last, I was high enough up that he’d be terrified of his location and also fearful of what would happen if he tried to escape. And even if he did happen to be a tree monkey at heart, it would still be a slow descent.

  I paused when I reached the upper branches of the tree then released my captive and draped him over the largest branch I could find, allowing his feet, hands, and head to hang. From his vantage point, all he would be able to see would be a tangle of branches. And no sign of the ground.

 
; Excellent.

  Chapter 16

  I crouched beside him, waiting for him to awaken. I didn’t have anything with which to tie him to the branch, so I had to keep a good eye on him in case he got hysterical when he woke up and then fell off.

  It would not do to lose my quarry too soon.

  I poked him in the side gently first, and then when he didn’t stir, a little harder. His eyelids flickered open.

  “If I were you I wouldn’t move a muscle. Not unless you want to fall to your death. And I assure you it won’t be pretty or quick.” I kept my voice low and even in the hopes that he wouldn’t startle.

  Perhaps self-preservation was high on his list of priorities because he didn’t move, just shifted his gaze from my face to the branches below him.

  “Ugh,” he choked the word out as his skin lost all color. “What are you doing?”

  I smiled and sank onto the branch, straddling it and feeling it sway a little beneath my weight. My captive felt it too.

  “Hey, what are you doing? You’re gonna break the damn branch,” he said, his voice high and panicked.

  I patted his shoulder. “Not really. This particular branch is younger, a little whippier than the rest, yes, but green enough that the likelihood of snapping in two is much less than actually slipping from the branch and falling to your death. I suggest you not wriggle. Too much.”

  He made a terrified sound in the back of his throat, and I turned away, knowing he was going to lose control of one of two things, the contents of his stomach or his bladder.

  He began to retch, his body convulsing over the branch and then he vomited, spattering his last meal all over the lower branches. I shifted a few feet back, out of range of the smell, glad that gravity had taken both odor and vomit far enough away that it wouldn’t bother me too much.

  I cleared my throat, aware that time was running out. “So, now that we’re past that stage, do you think you can answer a few questions? Or should I let you fall.” I put a foot on his shoulder and gave it a tiny push. Not enough for him to fall over but just enough to strike terror into his heart.