Through Storm and Night (The Shape Shifter Chronicles Book 2)

by Lauren Jankowski

  “Hey Nero,” she greeted as she ran out the door, passing the youngest Deverell. “I left Jensen a note on the counter, but in case he doesn’t see it, let him know that I borrowed his car.”

  Nero stood there, a little taken off guard by his niece’s hurried words. He nodded and watched Isis disappear around a corner, still in a state of puzzlement. Shrugging, Nero stepped into Jensen’s apartment and closed the door behind him. He moved to the bedroom door and saw his good friend sprawled out on the bed. Nero moved back down the short hall to the small closet that contained most of his friend’s shoes and coats, as well as a broom, mop, and bucket. Nero grabbed the dull green plastic bucket and made his way to the bathroom. He put the bucket under the tap and turned on the water, wincing at the loud sound of rushing water. Luck was on his side — Jensen remained asleep. He’s always been a heavy sleeper, Nero thought.

  Once the bucket was half-full of cold water, Nero turned off the tap and moved to the bedside. Jensen remained in blissful oblivion.

  “Rise and shine!” Nero shouted as he dumped the water on him. Jensen let out a yell of surprise as he jumped out of bed, concealing himself with one of the bed sheets. He was dripping wet and looked nothing short of infuriated.

  “What the hell is wrong with you!?” Jensen snapped. He kept a tight grip on the sheet that was wrapped around his waist.

  “You slept with my niece!? My innocent niece! Be thankful I’m not challenging you to a duel,” Nero stated with feigned indignation, putting the bucket down.

  “You’re mental!” Jensen yelled, groaning when he heard pounding on his door, which could only mean one thing. For fuck’s sake, he silently cursed. Jensen tossed the sheet to the side, moving toward the bedroom door and retrieving his dark blue robe. He wrapped it about himself, tightening the sash as he made his way to the front of the apartment.

  Jensen opened his door to reveal one of the nosier neighbors and he struggled not to roll his eyes. She was anything but happy. The vein in her head throbbed and her pale face was turning an interesting shade of scarlet.

  “Yes, Mary?” Jensen asked, scrubbing a hand down his wet face.

  “You seem to think this is your own personal home. There are other tenants who live here and you’re disturbing them,” Mary fumed.

  “What are you on about? It’s,” Jensen paused to glance over at the clock. “Ten in the morning, everybody is up and about by now.”

  “You miss the point. I was watering my plants and the next thing I know, you start shouting at the top of your lungs. Now there’s water all over my kitchen,” Mary continued on.

  “I fail to see how that’s my fault.”

  “I don’t know what kinds of shenanigans you people take part in, but that’s your business. The whole world doesn’t need to know about it.”

  Jensen leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms over his chest, and studying her. “You people? Do you mean immigrants or single men or some other group that I’m unaware of being part of?”

  Just then, Nero emerged from the bedroom. He smiled and winked at Mary as he sauntered over, draping an arm over Jensen’s shoulders. Jensen smiled and leaned his head on Nero’s shoulder. Mary’s eyes looked about ready to pop out of their sockets as she stared at the two men.

  “Hi there, beautiful,” Nero said to Mary. “I must apologize for his behavior. Just a little lover’s quarrel, you understand. We’ll keep it down, although you are quite the screamer in bed, right honey?”

  “You never used to complain about it before, sweetheart,” Jensen responded.

  “Oh, you’re a naughty one aren’t you?”

  Nero dropped his arm and gave Jensen’s butt a little spank. Jensen looked back at Mary expectantly. She fumed as she turned and left. Jensen chuckled as he closed the door.

  “You realize I’m going to have a reputation now,” he mentioned as he sat down on the recliner facing the couch. Nero laughed, entertained.

  “Speaking of women, Danielle thinks I’m God,” Nero said as he rested his hands on his flat stomach. “That was all I heard last night in bed. ‘Oh God, oh God, oh God Nero, yes, yes. You’re the best I ever had!’”

  Jensen raised an eyebrow at his friend. “Are you still doing the fake accent?”

  “It’s called a brogue,” Nero protested, slipping into the Irish accent that seemed to come and go. “And it’s not fake!”

  “Of course it’s not. It just takes days off,” Jensen humored him.

  “So, you and Isis,” Nero said as he watched his friend. “Somehow I knew the two of you would wind up together. The two of you are way too alike not to.”

  Jensen put one foot up on the coffee table, resting his head against his hand. “I’m not going to get involved with Isis. What happened last night was a one-night occurrence. I won’t put her in the line of fire.”

  “Guardians have mercy, not this shit again,” Nero moaned as he dropped back on the couch. “How many times do we have to tell you this? Nat and Bryn, their deaths weren’t your fault. You are not cursed. Just because you’re the last Aldridge doesn’t mean you have to take a vow of celibacy. Most shape shifters wouldn’t even think of messing with you. The parties responsible for the slaughter of your family are long dead. We saw to that, remember?”

  “We can’t be sure we got every last one and my track record suggests that we didn’t,” Jensen shook his head. “Orion was close to me. Nat and Bryn were both close to me. Look at what happened to them.”

  “Okay, Roan killed Orion so that had nothing to do with you. Nothing happened to my brothers and I and we’ve been around you longer than anyone. You’ve slept with plenty of people and none of them died. You interact with people on a regular basis and they don’t expire when you walk away. You’re doing that thing you always do: brooding. It may work on some people, but it doesn’t work on me.”

  Jensen made a noncommittal noise in response. Nero leaned forward, looking at his friend until Jensen looked up.

  “Jensen, I love you like a brother, but you need to lighten the fuck up,” Nero said. Not many saw Jensen’s grim side. He was only serious around people he really trusted.

  “If only it were that easy,” Jensen replied, shaking his head and dropping his hand again. Nero groaned and threw his legs up on the couch, stretching out across the cushions. Jensen looked over at the youngest Deverell.

  “What are you doing here anyway?”

  Nero waved his hand. “There was nothing for me to do at the mansion, so I decided to drop in on you. Oh, by the way, Isis told me to tell you that she borrowed your car.”

  “Wonderful,” Jensen couldn’t help but laugh at Nero. The amusement quickly drained from his face as he realized what Nero had said.

  “Wait, she took my car?”

  *~*~*~*~*

  Isis was speeding toward the mansion. Jensen’s Jaguar handled like a dream, which didn’t surprise Isis at all. She had never seen a car so well cared for. Typical guy, she thought with a laugh as the winter gray scenery blurred by the immaculate windows. Her cell phone started buzzing again.

  “Well there’s a nice little how do you do,” Isis chuckled when she felt her phone vibrate against her thigh. She reached into her pocket and retrieved the phone, glancing at the number on the clear screen. It was an unfamiliar number. Isis pressed the screen to answer it when she blinked and suddenly she was in a house, her stomach lurching.

  Isis dropped to her knees and vomited on the dusty floor. When she was done, she blinked a few more times and then closed her eyes, opening them again. Rising to her feet, Isis rubbed her head, feeling disoriented and a little dizzy.

  “What the hell?” she muttered under her breath, turning around in a circle as she tried to figure out where she was. The sound of a thump somewhere below her made Isis jump. She looked around again, paying closer attention to her surroundings. There were cobwebs everywhere and the air had a stale smell to it. Dust was piled on the ground and grime obscured the view outside. The pointed cei
ling indicated she was in an attic, but how had she gotten there? Isis hadn’t Appeared. There hadn’t been a light or noise. She also felt warm after she Appeared, not cold.

  Isis swallowed and felt around for her phone, which she couldn’t find. She shivered and rubbed her arms. The attic was freezing and she wanted to get out of it as soon as possible. Isis looked around for a door, wishing she had a weapon on her. She was not in a good situation.

  The shadows seemed to deepen around her as she made her way to the end of the attic where she spotted a door. She pushed herself against the wall and tested the knob, which turned easily in her hand. Isis pulled the door open, allowing more light into her gloomy surroundings.

  There was a narrow staircase in front of her leading down to what she assumed was the first floor. Isis put her foot on the first step, wincing when it creaked. She kept herself pressed against the wall and moved down the steps. At the bottom, Isis found the body of one of the non-descript men in gray suits. She instinctively took a step back, her entire body tensing, but the man remained motionless. He was lying in a strange way, face down with one foot on the bottom step, as if he had collapsed while descending.

  Isis hesitantly approached him again, nudging him with her foot. He didn’t move. She craned her neck to see his face, which was slack. Isis very carefully crouched next to the strange man, reaching for his throat with two shaking fingers. She felt around for a pulse, but found none. She suppressed a tremor as she next pried open one of his eyelids. The pupil didn’t react to the light, indicating the man was dead. Isis swallowed and dug through his pockets, hoping to find anything she could use as a weapon. Or perhaps a phone to call for back-up. Alas, the strange man’s pockets were empty.

  Isis suddenly noticed how familiar her surroundings were. She recognized the small kitchen she was standing in. She straightened up as she looked around. It was Cara’s house, the woman Jet and Lilly had sent the Four to check on. She turned to the back door, testing the knob. It was locked. Isis crossed the kitchen, moving to the various drawers and cabinets, opening all of them in the hopes of finding a knife or something sharp. All she found was more dust. Isis ran a hand through her hair, closing her eyes briefly. She was in trouble.

  Isis walked over toward the entrance that lead to the front room, hoping she would have better luck with the front door. She paused at the doorway, listening for any sounds. Isis could have sworn she heard a soft swishing noise.

  She only saw a flash of silver before the blade buried itself in her chest. Isis heard herself let out a soft gasp and she looked down to see a knife buried up to the hilt in the center of her chest. It felt as though she were drowning as it became more and more difficult to breathe. The pain was excruciating and her vision swam. She tasted the blood starting to fill the back of her mouth.

  “That’s blood filling your lungs, baby protector,” a familiar voice stated. Isis looked down the arm that still held the knife into Onyx’s yellow eyes. The assassin smirked in triumph, but it melted into a look of shock when Isis grabbed one of the throwing blades Onyx kept in her belt and buried it deeply in the assassin’s side. Onyx twisted the knife in Isis’ chest before yanking it out, causing Isis to crumple.

  “The fucking bitch stabbed me! She stabbed me!” Isis distantly heard Onyx yell. She could see a pool of blood starting to form on the kitchen floor. Too much, she was losing too much blood. Her vision began to darken and Isis realized she was dying. Terror began to engulf her as her breath slowly ran out.

  “That’s what you get for bringing too many weapons and wearing them so openly,” a familiar masculine voice stated, laughing. It was Blackjack.

  “Draw the symbol on the wall,” he said. “I’ll text her.”

  *~*~*~*~*

  At Steve’s house, Tracy smiled to herself as she tapped the phone against her hand. She was waiting for a text. It had been easy to get the hybrid into the trap, using one of the reconnaissance teams. They could move fast, though the taxation on the system did eventually kill them. There had only been three left after the club and she had wasted two on that damn assassin. It was the end of that line, but it had been worth it. They had served their purpose.

  Tracy rose from where she sat at the kitchen table, glancing toward the couch where Steve was in a drugged slumber. She had slipped a powerful sedative in his food last night. In another hour, he’d wake up with Tracy asleep next to him. In the spoons position, how sweet, she thought with skin-crawling distaste. Her phone buzzed and she looked at it again, smiling widely.

  It’s done.

  Tracy let out a breath of relief and forwarded the message to the recovery team. She then messaged the assassin back, telling him to wait for the team to pick up the body. Punching another number in, Tracy raised the phone to her delicate ear and waited for the man on the other end to answer.

  “Hello, my dear,” a soft voice crooned. Tracy smiled in delight. He was in a good mood, and she was going to make it better.

  “She’ll be yours tonight, sir,” she told him in a respectful tone. “Everything went according to plan and the recovery team just has to retrieve the body.”

  “Spectacular. I knew you wouldn’t let me down,” the voice on the other end stated. “My dear, you are going to be richly rewarded for this.”

  “Thank you sir, but working for you is all the reward I require,” she replied. There was a deep chuckle on the other line.

  “I’ll tell Mr. Carding to expect you back by the end of the week then,” he said. “Goodbye Tracy.”

  “Goodbye, sir.”

  Tracy hung up the phone, feeling a sense of satisfaction in a job well done. Squaring her shoulders, she walked over to where her jacket was draped over a chair. Dropping the cell phone in the jacket pocket, Tracy then hurried over to where Steve still lay on the couch. She maneuvered her petite body into his arms, easily fitting into him. She closed her eyes and feigned sleep, a smile of contentment dancing across her features.

  Victory was hers. No, victory was theirs.

  *~*~*~*~*

  “I can’t believe she took my car.”

  Nero glanced at Jensen. He had been griping about Isis borrowing his car since they left for the mansion.

  “How long are you going to go on about the car? Guardians, you’re going to the same place. You’ll be reunited with your precious car in a little while. Give it a rest, my friend. God, you dwell on everything.”

  “Nero, stop. Stop the car.”

  “What? Why?”

  “Stop the damn car!”

  Nero pulled over to the side of the road, staring when his friend jumped out of the car almost before it fully stopped. He glanced up in the rearview mirror and swore as he got out of the car, running to catch up with Jensen.

  Sitting abandoned on the side of the road was Jensen’s car. The driver’s side door was open and the engine was off. It hadn’t crashed into anything. It looked as though someone had just pulled over to the side of the road, got out of the car, and forgot about it. Jensen reached the car first. He slipped and fell in the snow in his rush, but scrambled to his feet and looked inside the car.

  “She’s not here,” he called over to Nero. “But her stuff is.”

  “Is there any blood or anything to indicate she was hurt?” Nero asked as he skidded to a stop next to the car. The road was icier than he had expected and he had to catch himself on the side of Jensen’s car. Nero examined Jensen’s abandoned car, searching for any sign of blood. He was almost overcome with relief when he could find none.

  “There are footprints,” Jensen pointed at the ground, following them for a couple feet. “They stop here.”

  Jensen hurried back to the car and grabbed the abandoned cell phone. He opened it and scrolled through the contacts. Pressing the one he wanted, Jensen pressed send and held the phone against his ear, listening to it ring. Nero listened as Jensen called Shae and explained the situation. He went back to his car and waited, playing with his fingers, his breath fogging out in fron
t of him. Jensen hung up and returned to Nero’s car.

  “It’s unlikely, but Shae mentioned Cara’s house is nearby,” Jensen explained. “She’d never go there on her own, not willingly. Not without backup.”

  Nero looked pointedly at the abandoned car. “If Isis were taken against her will, don’t you think there would be evidence of a struggle?”

  Jensen was quiet for a moment, his eyes traveling back to the car behind them. “The whole scene is really peculiar. I don’t know where else to look for her.”

  The phone buzzed and Jensen looked at it. He showed it to Nero.

  “The address.”

  “I’ll follow you,” Nero said. He watched in the rearview mirror as Jensen went back to the silver Jaguar, sinking into the driver’s seat. Nero frowned as he watched his friend press things in the car. Even from a distance, he could see the confusion in Jensen’s expression. After a minute, he got out of the car and made his way back to Nero’s car, looking over his shoulder a couple times.

  “It won’t start,” Jensen explained, looking back at the car again. “That … shouldn’t be.”

  “We’ll call for a tow after we check out this address,” Nero said, shifting into drive and turning back onto the road.

  When they finally reached Cara’s house, they knew instantly something was wrong. Two squad cars were parked on the street along with a large ambulance. Had the two men not been so worried about Isis, they would’ve noticed how bizarre the scene was — the absence of police tape and the missing letters on the ambulance. But they were too concerned with locating Isis.

  Jensen leapt out of the car almost before it came to a complete stop, ignoring Nero cursing him out as he followed close on his heels. They tore across the street right as a stretcher with a body bag was being wheeled out. A tall, imposing looking officer grabbed Jensen before he could run into the crime scene. Jensen began to struggle and the scene would have gotten a lot uglier had Nero not intervened.