Perfect Timing

by Aimee Brissay

  Shawn mumbled a curse under his breath, but stepped closer to the door. “Yeah, I’m coming.”

  “Ohh jeez, put a dam on that overwhelming enthusiasm.”

  “I must be insane.” Or in love. Which is just as bad. “I should have my head examined.”

  Valentin grinned broadly at the muttered words. “I wish I could vouch for your sanity, but I can’t. After all, you picked me.”

  “Fate picked you for me.”

  Shawn jumped and landed gracefully at his mate’s feet.

  The wind increased its force and Shawn had to yell to make himself heard. “Okay, I’m here. What now?”

  “Now we go.”

  “Go? Go where?”

  “Away.”

  Shawn rubbed his forehead, trying to soothe the impending headache.

  “Can you at least tell me what is going on?”

  Valentin grabbed Shawn’s wrist and start dragging him toward the edge of the embankment.

  “Something is coming. Fast.” The vampire shouted his words.

  Shawn sprang to attention. “Can we escape them?”

  “We should draw them out. There is no reason for the people in the train to suffer as well.”

  They jumped from the edge and slowly made their way through the elements, shoulders hunched, eyes squinted against the blizzard. The wind swirled and twisted, forming miniature whirls of snow, whipping any exposed skin raw. The snow should have raised the temperature outside, but ten minutes in the weather had their teeth rattling.

  “We should go back before we freeze to death.”

  “No. We go forward.” The words were wheezed, and it appeared to take a great deal of will on Valentin’s part to form them.

  Every cell in Shawn’s body was attuned to their surroundings. He was leading the way through the heaps of snow, circling them, trying to find the easiest way. Their legs sank in the drifts, making their advance difficult. Valentin gasped, his steps faltering. Shawn wished he could give him some of his own energy. Just a little. Watching the vampire struggle made Shawn doubt his mate would last the night. Yet, the vampire pushed through. One foot in front of the other. Again and again.

  Shawn lost track of time, his focus entirely on the man behind him and the trail lying in front of them. It was more than a guess, and that started to worry him. Through growing piles of snow and the blinding blizzard, the path was still there, clear as day. The wind wailed. The hairs on the back of his neck prickled. His fangs involuntarily slid down from their pockets. His nails hardened, turning to claws, the first ripples of fur tickling his skin.

  What the hell was going on? His body trembled. Each step made the fight to keep himself under control and in human form harder. Had he ever felt so, so out of his skin?

  Shawn looked around but nothing seemed out of place. He sniffed the air. Just cold. Like thousands of frozen, tiny spikes raking down his windpipe, an ice bomb exploding in his chest, cutting off his ability to breathe. He choked and forced more air into his lungs. A hand slapped his back heavily enough for his knees to drop an inch.

  “Hey, are you okay?”

  “Yes.” His voice failed and he broke out into a new fit of coughing. He grabbed Valentin’s hand and held on to it.

  The wind pushed them forward. Shawn held his ground, stubbornly.

  “Someone wants us pretty badly.”

  For once the vampire had it right. The storm kept roaring; horrible behind them and bearable in front. The snow had created a narrow labyrinth, the height in parts, passing two meters.

  “We should go back.” In answer, the wind increased its force again. The snow falling from the sky turned to ice, leaving deep gashes on Shawn’s exposed face.

  The blizzard increased, its noise deafening. Wind hit Shawn hard, knocking him off his feet. Valentin reached out. His hand slid past Shawn. Flakes that had turned to ice hit Shawn with gale-like force and he made a grab for his mate, dragging him down and under him to shelter the man with his own body. The ice showers kept hitting, each of them feeling like a rock being shot out of a sling.

  The wind changed again, ascending, like it was trying to dislodge Shawn from the man he was protecting. It pulled at his shoulders like powerful hands. Shawn growled and shook himself free without breaking his stance over his mate.

  Someone snarled, a sound that broke over the sounds of the storm and made Shawn’s hair stand at attention. Shit! Shawn lifted his head to meet the intruder’s eyes, but the weather made it impossible. He could barely keep his eyes open, and the pressure of the wind was so great, he had trouble maintaining his position. Not that Valentin made his job any easier. He wiggled, twisted, and struggled to get away from under him, reaching out, fingers curved like claws, to the blurry form of their attacker.

  A hand fisted in Shawn’s hair, pulling him backward. He reached behind him, trying to catch the assailant. His fingers searched and touched nothing but air, though the hand in his hair had never loosened its grip. He dropped to his knees, dislodging the hand, but a blow hit his right side and he doubled over with the sickening sound of breaking bones.

  Valentin snarled and launched himself, fingers turned to talons and deadly fangs bared. Shawn reached out to grab him and missed. The transformation took over. Fur exploded. The scenery changed and colors dimmed. New shapes took form, men circling, looking for an opening to get to him or Valentin. Another stood to the side, apparently unaffected by the raging blizzard around them. The way he held himself marked him as an alpha.

  Shawn made a beeline for the man. The way he held himself marked him as an alpha. Shawn breached the edge of the sphere surrounding the man, and stillness engulfed him. The storm faded away, muffled to a far away noise. Pressure built up, followed by unnatural heat. And then he heard it. The chant. It was coming off the leader in the middle of the sphere, in an uninterrupted, oddly melodic rhythm.

  Another blow caught Shawn midair and he landed poorly, out of the sphere. He let out a yelp and turned to face the unknown threat. Two blurry shapes closed in and he lunged for the nearest of them. He passed through it like it was made of air.

  Fuck! It was like fighting a ghost. How could he stand a chance? Were they men? Vampires? They had no odor coming, no matter how close he got.

  His instinct screamed at him to move, to get out of the way. He crouched and jumped to the side in time to dodge what could have been a deadly blow to the head. He paused on his haunches trying to catch his breath. His eyes drifted to the side, where his mate was putting on a good show with three other shadow shapes.

  * * * *

  Valentin was dancing to a very dangerous tune. He sneaked past, coiled, uncoiled, and dodged in fluid, uninterrupted motions, knowing that stopping for even the briefest moment could mean his death. He kept moving, his entire body screaming warnings. Ghostly hands reached to grab him, but they felt real enough on his flesh. They circled one another, in a rhythm old as life itself. He tried to make a grab for the shadows, his fingers spearing right through them. His skin prickled and he spun around. Claws, coming for his throat, missed their target, sliding instead on his clavicle and grazing his shoulder.

  Valentin wondered how Shawn was faring, but could not risk losing focus. Feral snarls, growls, snaps, caterwauls, and yelps were all he had to assure him his lover was still alive.

  Muffled curses sounded close by. Too close. Heart thudding in his ears, he leaped to the side just in time to avoid being skewered by sharp talons. Power crackled over his skin and he swung at the closest opponent in a futile attempt to turn the tables. His knuckles made contact with flesh. So it was possible. He lunged again, teeth exposed. His hand wrapped around a thin throat and he snapped it like a twig. He would have loved nothing better than to revel in the blood of his enemies, to drain them all, but after the recent events he was wary of ingesting any.

  He held the limp body away from his. The man, a vampire, was dead, but it wouldn’t hurt to make sure. He slid his claws beneath the fine skin under the ears and ri
pped the throat open. Then unceremoniously discarded the corpse and turned to face the rest of his opponents.

  Their shapes seemed clearer, like their bodies held more substance. Their eyes glowed red, and saliva drooled from the tips of their fangs, muscles coiled and ready to pounce, menacing snarls rolling off their tongues.

  He didn’t recognize them. Couldn’t read them. Couldn’t even say how powerful they were. Maybe back in the days, when he was at his peak, he could have taken them in a fight. Now, seeing them move and the determination in their eyes, he knew he stood no chance.

  Panic rose, fueled up by the fear he felt for Shawn. He couldn’t see his lover, his entire visual field taken by the vampires attacking him. He had to last. He had to find a way to survive, and to help Shawn.

  * * * *

  Shawn spotted a lone figure standing a safe distance from the battlefield. He crouched low, his furred belly touching the frozen ground, and crept forwards. Ten meters. Nine. Seven. Five.

  The mage. Shawn could feel his power crawling over his skin and fur.

  The caster took notice of him, Shawn feeling the weight of the man’s gaze in his bones. The chanting failed, before it began it again with a vengeance. Magic washed over Shawn’s body, like invisible strings wrapping around him. The storm shifted again, hitting the jaguar hard across the face. Shapes turned to face him, some leaping forward, trying to cut his path. He pounced, flying through two ghostly figures, and landed on top of the caster.

  Shawn clawed at the wizard’s face and shoulders. Pain flared, each rake of his talons across the man’s skin echoing with one on his own body. Hard blows landed across his head, shoulders, and back. He chewed at the flesh he could reach, knowing deep inside him that killing the caster was their only chance, as slight as it might be, to get out alive. Magic burst out from the wizard like an explosion. It hit the cat head on, invisible ropes wrapping around him, choking him. Shawn heard his name screamed out and the air filled with the coppery scent of his blood.

  * * * *

  “Shawn. No!”

  His scream was in vain. His feet carried him across the clearing on their own volition. The jaguar clawed away at the caster. Blood splattered almost black in contrast with the white snow. Blows landed on top of Shawn and even from that distance Valentin could hear the muffled thumps. His breath hitched in his throat. He got closer and the scent of blood hit him hard. This time it wasn’t appealing. Dark. Heavy. Bitter enough to make his nose crinkle. Nothing he would ever consider eating.

  The chanting faltered. The shadows around him acquired substance and his hands grabbed flesh instead of air.

  More blood marred the ground around the fighters, wizard blood, vampires’, Shawn’s. A red haze covered Valentin’s eyes as he went berserk.

  In the blink of an eye, the wizard was in his face, chanting in his ear.

  The man’s breath was foul, and Valentin tried to escape it. The caster caught his jaw in a bruising grip and leaned in closer. The man’s breath was foul, and Valentin tried to escape it. Steel fingers squeezed the vampire’s windpipe, almost splitting it open in the process.

  “You are nothing but trouble, fledgling.” The wizard’s voice was rough, cruel. He ran a cold, sticky hand across his cheek. “We will have so much fun together.”

  Shivers ran up Valentin’s spine and he recoiled in repulsion. A groan sounded from the feline lying on the ground. The caster turned around, distaste on his face. Valentin’s eyes darted toward Shawn and found him fighting claws to tooth against two mean-looking bloodsuckers. The cat was holding his own, but he was almost done.

  Valentin struggled harder.

  “He means something to you.”

  Valentin froze.

  “You went out and fell for a shape-shifter. For a damned cat. You’re a disgrace!” Air crackled and blood gushed from fresh cuts opened on Valentin’s face.

  “A fucking cat!” He hit Valentin again and again until the vampire’s face was a bloody mass. The caster snaked his hand around Valentin’s throat and resumed his chanting. The pressure in the air increased. The blizzard faded into nothingness as the vampire’s vision tunneled and he was jerked forward.

  Chapter 11

  Shawn came back slowly to his senses. He was still in his jaguar shape lying on the frozen ground, half-covered in snow. He felt numb. He’d tried to reach Valentin, to rip the caster to bits. But the two bloodsuckers blocked his path and he could only stare in horror as his mate was swept away in the mists conjured by the warlock, along with the remaining vampires. He screamed and launched himself at the spot where his lover had stood. He’d howled his pain to the sky until he could no longer use his vocal cords.

  Sun broke through the blanket of clouds and was now shining brightly. Shawn had no idea how long had passed. He couldn’t move, couldn’t think. There were cuts and tears all over his body. Skin and fur pulled back to expose the flesh. Something white on one of his paws peeked at him and he realized it was his bone.

  Everything faded away when he thought of Valentin.

  Oh God. Valentin. Where was his mate? He drew in a deep breath and a sharp pain stabbed in a million places at once.

  He turned on his belly and his body protested. He tried standing and his right leg gave way. Breath wheezed out of his lungs as his muzzle hit the ground. He bit back a yelp as his mouth filled with blood.

  He allowed the hurt to subside before he started the whole painful process again. Each move needed a huge amount of concentration, and it took forever. He could almost feel his synapses going into overload, sending electrical impulses to the muscles.

  Painfully slowly, he turned and scanned the battlefield. The place was marked by dried blood, unearthed dirt, and broken branches. And magic. There were only traces of it left, the caster long gone. But they created an intricate model above the earth, like a layered spiderweb. Scents were scarce; his, Valentin’s, the wizard’s, blood, and that was about it. And his mate was nowhere to be found.

  Valentin was gone! His pulse quickened until he couldn’t hear anything over the pounding in his ears. His mind reeled, thoughts rushing in, one atop another, and he couldn’t grasp any of them. He could no longer see the winter scenery surrounding him, but Valentin’s body lying in some ditch, bloodied and broken. Bile rose to his throat. He bent forward and heaved, but nothing came out.

  When he got his bearings back, Shawn circled the entire clearing, muzzle on the ground, trying to find anything that could lead him to his mate. The coppery scent of blood became stronger as he reached the other part of the clearing, laced with a hint of something else, something familiar. Wool. Most likely a piece of Valentin’s sweater. Shit! His heart skipped a beat as he started digging. Claws raked over the iced soil and he whimpered as pain shot up his broken paw. His movements were slow, lacking the strength needed it.

  Finally, he reached under layers of snow and ice and found a piece of the sweater he had bought earlier for the vampire. He remembered how Valentin had run his fingers over the soft fabric and the happy sigh he’d let out after he had it on.

  The jaguar dug deeper, his mind screaming. He can’t be dead. Please God, don’t let him be dead.

  Shawn continued to dig but couldn’t find any more traces of his lover.

  He sat gingerly on his haunches, holding the piece of fabric between his teeth. His body was sore and he needed to shift back and forth a few times to feel better, but with his emotions all over the place the odds of that happening were slim. Still holding the shred of clothing, he limped back on his own tracks, half hoping he would find more traces of Valentin. By the time he reached his duffel, he had already made a decision. He would find his lover, no matter where he was. He would find a way.

  But first he needed clothes, as his were scattered all over the place where he’d shifted earlier. He placed the piece of clothing on top of his bag and began shifting. It was slow and painful, but it gave him time to fully assess the damage done to his body. A few broken ribs, probably one
of them had punctured a lung, which would explain the faint wheezing in his breath. Luckily it hadn’t collapsed. Broken wrist. Bite marks. Torn flesh. The back of his skull was throbbing, the bone most likely cracked. His fur was burned in places, magic no doubt, and his skin bore the first signs of frostbite.

  He shifted until he felt better. He snagged the shred of Valentin’s sweater and despair blackened his retinas. He’s out there, out in the cold. He hates cold. I need to get to him fast.

  Shawn ran, duffel bag forgotten, and skidded to a stop at the place he’d shifted earlier. He was digging before his knees touched the ground. He found pieces of his clothing, and his boots, which luckily weren’t in the bad shape he’d expected them to be in. He winced at his wet socks and decided it would be better to remove them all together. He tied his shoelaces, grateful that the numbness in his feet stopped him from feeling just how uncomfortable bare feet in frozen boots felt. Warming up would be a bitch. He located his wallet, shook the water away, and shoved it in his pocket.

  After one last sweep around the clearing in search of any tracks or signs he might have missed the first time, he headed back for the railroad.

  He walked through the snow for hours, his feet numb, his hands frozen, thinking only of Valentin. He knew the vampire was his chosen mate, yet he’d failed to realize just what that meant. He’d expected to miss him, to wonder about him. Perhaps to feel slightly jealous if he were to see him with another man. He hadn’t been prepared for the full extent of the pain he felt. It was almost physical, like a blow to his stomach. Punch after punch, each one a new shock to his system. It seemed like his heart was trapped in an iron grip and he couldn’t remember the last time he’d managed to breathe normally.

  His eyes scanned relentlessly the evergreen forest surrounding him, his senses on high alert. It took him a good number of minutes to understand what was amiss. There were no animals, no birds, not a single living soul. He broke into a light run, the fastest his body could have managed.