Chosen: Shifters of London

by Hanna Maria Jones

  “You,” he started strong, then paused, “you don’t belong here.”

  I was glad I had my back to him, because my throat started to tighten and my lip trembled. I pressed them tightly together. That really hurt, especially after last night.

  Taking my silence as anger, he continued defensively. “You could’ve gotten killed. You can’t defend yourself against them.”

  That was moderately less terrible than the initial statement alone, but my nerves were already raw. “That’s not my fault either!”

  “I know it’s not your fault...are you crying?”

  I tried to blink back tears furiously, but it only made it worse. The first splash of warmth on my cheek was followed by an involuntary sniffle.

  “No, don’t,” he said uncomfortably. “I didn’t...I don’t…”

  I wanted him to say he didn’t hate me. He’d probably finish with ‘mean to make you cry’. That was always code for ‘but I still mean what I said to make you cry’.

  A touch on my shoulder sent another wave of trembles from lip to chest.

  “I’m sorry.”

  If I had any illusions he was going to say anything further, they were dashed as the touch disappeared and his footsteps went from behind me to the stairs.

  That felt immeasurably worse. I wiped my eyes and poured myself a cup of tea, taking it to the table to sit while feeling sorry for myself.

  Though, in the greater scheme of events, Kurt blaming me for everything that happened was far from the worst.

  It wasn’t even the most unfair.

  I suppose it was like my mum always said, You can’t hide from sorrow without hiding from joy. A nice lesson, but not one she seemed to live by obviously. Perhaps that’s how she knew it was true.

  I had the abrupt and horrid thought that they would have to be told about Andrew.

  I groaned, putting my head in my hands and delving a little deeper into self-pity. Perhaps Heath could help cheer me up, once he separated himself from his girlfriend’s mouth.

  “Oh, did you go into the other room too?”

  I lifted my head to see Lyall coming into the kitchen from the sitting room, carrying several full cloth bags. “Did they even notice you?” I nodded toward the direction of the necking couple.

  “Not even when I said hello. I would’ve suggested a room, but that would hardly make me a responsible adult, would it?”

  I had to smile at that. I got up to help him pull groceries out of the bag. “I was only treated to the sight for a second. A good thing I hadn’t eaten yet.”

  He chuckled as he put away the foods needing refrigeration. “Have the others gotten out of bed yet?”

  “No.” I felt a twinge of guilt about lying again, but I didn’t want to be reminded of the earlier conversation.

  “Layabouts.” He shook his head, but without real censure.

  “Did you, um, sleep here?”

  Lyall paused in his search for where to put the muffins. His raised eyebrow was knowing at my other unasked question. “Yes, in my own room. I’ve been invited to commune, but what if it gets out I slept with a bunch of teenagers?”

  I couldn’t help a giggle. “A hearty ‘Well done’ at the local libertine club?”

  “I doubt I’d be admitted.” He found the breads and returned to the cloth sacks. He pulled out a bakery wrapped Yum Yum. “Fancy a treat?”

  I started to reach out, but my fingers just fell short. For a moment I saw nothing except a cloudless sky and an offered ice. Fancy a treat?

  I gasped as everything came back into focus. “I know you!” I nearly goggled at him in shock.

  He still held out the sweet, his smile becoming more fond in its patience.

  I must have looked mad, shaking my finger at him in realization. “Of course I do! You found me when I got separated from my parents at the Magic Garden!”

  “You got it in one,” he agreed, seeming pleased I remembered.

  “I’ve seen you others times too. But that’s the only time I’ve spoken to you.” I took the Yum Yum and took a bite as I sat down. I couldn’t believe that they were the same person. I hadn’t seen him in years though.

  “It helped ease your parent’s minds when they took you out.”

  “I can imagine.” I wished there were more than a handful of times we went anywhere but their office and home. Maybe my parents couldn’t bring themselves to ask for help very often.

  “I’m making breakfast. If you’re still hungry, there will be enough for everyone,” he said, and left me alone to my thoughts as he pulled pans from the cabinets.

  I nodded, my mind going to the latest meal I had. “Lyall, Septimus said something odd during dinner. The issue of Pandorea came up, and he told Rose nobody would have that problem again. The problem of us.”

  Lyall was quiet as he moved the eggs and bacon next to the stove. He began to crack eggs as the pan heated up. “He’s posturing. Every time the Packs get together there is some attempt to destroy us en masse.” He said it so blandly, as if a bigger kid tried to take his balloon every time they went to the playground.

  “How? Why?” I couldn’t understand the animosity. Even Ry said that it was mostly dominance and being territorial.

  “We’re vulnerable when we Change.”

  That made sense. I looked at his hands as he stripped apart bacon to cook. “Aren’t you vulnerable now? If they know there’s to be a meeting, surely finding out the identities of werewolves wouldn’t be impossible. Why not just get a gun license and find you all during the day?”

  Lyall inclined his chin in agreement. “They could, but the methods they choose to utilize in Hunting are chasing and taking by force. Really, it’s just kidnapping and murdering. I don’t know how fast their victim dies, but I hope it’s quick.”

  A shiver ran down my back. “Why isn’t everyone hiding, the way my parents did?”

  He made a small sound in the back of his throat. “Children are not often hunted, your brother was a shock to everyone. Other than that, once we reach an age they might find interesting, we figure life has to go on.”

  “Do we ever retaliate?” I thought it a valid question. All the reactions I’d seen so far was more based around caution rather than turning around and killing them back.

  “Some of us do. It’s not a philosophy I choose to advocate,” he said easily, scrambling the eggs as the bacon sizzled.

  I finished the pastry and watched him place a pot of baked beans on the burner.

  I had lots of questions I wanted to ask him. How were Shifters made? Did they have other abilities? I had noticed they were strong in human form. I rubbed my wrist ruefully, the covered skin was still tender.

  “Are they any good werepanthers?”

  His look of interest made me squirm. “We have one in the other room it seems. But yes, I’ve always supposed there are other shifters who simply want to live their everyday life. I find it unfortunate that certain individuals pour their resources into a senseless feud.” He set a plate of eggs, streaky bacon, and beans in front of me before taking a seat with his own food.

  “Thanks!” I enjoyed the freshly cooked food in much higher spirits than I started the day with. I liked Lyall. He had the same air of acceptance and reasoning that my own father did.

  Eventually Clover and William came downstairs, attracted by the smell and lure of cooked food. Lyall took two plates to the couple in the other room, and came back in after several minutes. “We will have to discuss upcoming events with everyone soon. More Packs are pouring into London for the Supermoon.”

  Clover raised her hand immediately. “Where are we going to have the Summit?”

  He looked amused at her hand waving. “Green Park. There aren’t any lakes or buildings, and it’s been closed for several weeks due to a report of possible infestation of Asian longhorn beetles.”

  I looked behind me and saw Kurt standing in the doorway. I lifted my chin and turned back around, chewing on the bacon with more force than necessary
.

  “Why this year? There are supermoons every year.” William asked, stealing a piece of my bacon.

  “Not like this. This is the closest the moon has been to the earth in eighteen years,” Kurt answered. “Besides, it’s good for us to meet more of our own kind.”

  I snorted under my breath. That was subtle.

  “Yes, the moon will be very close to the earth,” Lyall agreed placidly. “I know most of you were too young to attend the last gathering, but there are precautions needed. Don’t park close to the destination. Walk in groups. Keep your mobiles handy, if you’ve got them. Members of the same pack will be expected to regroup, and separate from the others during the Change.”

  “Why separate?”

  “Helps save on confusion while finding your clothes in the morning.”

  Everybody else laughed at that, so I figured it must be a common issue. It also meant they had to strip before Changing, which made sense.

  I raised my hand.

  Lyall nodded at me. “Yes, Gemma?”

  “What can I do?”

  At the immediate turned heads, I only looked at Lyall. “You said the panthers always use attack during Summits. But wouldn’t they be just as vulnerable during the Change? I could do something then, maybe warn everyone.”

  “They don’t change during the full moon.” He tilted his head.

  “Oh.” Before I could ask for further elaboration on that, Heath and Pandorea stepped further into the room from behind Kurt.

  “I don’t like the thought of leaving you alone, but you certainly can’t be there,” Heath said. “Here will be safest for you and Pandorea.”

  The girl in question ducked her head, leaning more into his side.

  “I...oh.” I stared off, lifting my hand as if tracing a large circle. “I had a dream a few nights ago. I thought I was in the woods because of the trees. There were wolves...and the moon was huge. I could see it in the sky, over the trees.”

  Before anyone else could say anything, Kurt interjected with a “So?”

  That threw me off. “I…” The end of the dream came to me. “I should be there,” I said slowly, realization dawning. “I have to be there.” I turned around, looking at the others.

  It wasn’t much help.

  Heath looked dubious, Kurt hacked off, and Clover fascinated.

  William grinned at me. “You heard I’d be taking off my clothes and suddenly had to be there? You don’t have to wait, duckie.” He started swaying and unbuttoning his top, bobbing his head exaggeratedly.

  “Oi! That’s my cousin.” Heath protested, but he was drowned out by Clover’s laughter. He reached over to lightly cuff William with a smirk. “And nobody wants to see it.”

  Clover snapped her fingers and wriggled as she heard the music too. She winked at me.

  I smiled at their antics, aware nobody agreed with me. But I knew I had to be there. I just had to convince everybody else of that. I had to be there for the arrival of Him, whoever that might end up being.

  Chapter 14

  The rest of the morning I spent upstairs sitting on the second bed in Clover’s room. I was formulating a list of reasons that Lyall should consider before deciding to leave me at home. I figured it was him I had to convince, then use him as an ally against Heath and Kurt.

  I still hadn’t the chance to tell him what I learned about Andrew, or myself for that matter. Even if I could only halt an attack for just a moment, it could be the difference between life and death for someone. That reason was solid.

  The next was less so. I had never believed in prophetic dreams myself, but then I didn’t believe in shifters a week ago either. Proving a dream about werewolves and a moon meant anything special would be a hard sell.

  Nonetheless, I had to try. I moved off the bed, grabbed my shoes and padding quietly down the stairs to look for Lyall.

  Despite the flurry of activity and new voices I had been half-listening to an hour ago, it was nearly empty now. There were definite signs of life; several discarded jackets were piled on top of a couch and mugs on the table.

  The basement! I found the door with a staircase leading down, and closed my eyes to listen.

  Nothing.

  I carefully took a step down, testing each spot in case it squeaked. I was three steps down when a voice, startlingly close, sounded right in my ear.

  “It’s not polite to eavesdrop.”

  I looked over my shoulder at Kurt while trying to fight an embarrassed grimace. Since he caught me, I couldn’t go on the offensive yet. “I was just curious.”

  “You always are. Can’t you just stay put for once?”

  That sent an even more fierce heat up my cheeks, but it felt far different. It felt angry. I stepped closer to the top of the stairs, the added difference between our height left me with my head tilted even more back. “Why don’t you? How would you like it if that was your only option? I’m an adult, you know.”

  His mouth twisted in disagreement. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. This is dangerous, people have died. You’re just got lucky, but luck is fickle.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Could you be any more condescending? I know people can die, my cousin’s going to be there remember? And what difference does it make to you if I’m in danger? So are you!”

  He stared hard at me, not responding.

  “So is Clover, Lyall, Willie...” I started counting names on my fingers, holding them up between us. “Can I keep going, or can you supply the rest yourself?”

  Kurt growled, a real spine-shivering, hair-raising sound I could feel in my bones. I took another step up, but his muscled self was blocking my way. “Excuse me!”

  “I don’t think--”

  “Obviously!” I shot at him quickly, and snapped, “Now move!”

  For one horrible moment it looked as he lurched forward toward me, but then he jerked back like a puppet yanked by its string.

  I quickly walked through the now open doorway, grabbing my jacket from beside the door and headed out.

  Having learned my lesson the hard way, I checked the backseat before I got in the car. I locked all the doors once I was inside and simply sat there. Driving off would worry Heath, and that wasn’t fair to him just because his friend was a git.

  Plus I could see the curtains twitching as someone was checking up on me. Three guesses on who it was. Nosy git.

  I kneeled over the seat and moved around my bulky jacket and old papers to look for a paperback novel I picked up ages ago. I had thrown it in with my groceries shortly after I moved in with Heath.

  My fingers brushed the edge while running them under the passenger’s seat, I liberated it and sat back in my seat. The cover looked like a bodice ripper, the kind I had only ever been able to read in secret before.

  The story was fun, a rags to riches governess that was torn between the gruff carpenter from her hometown and the young reckless Lord of the manor. I was enjoying the choice, but I thought her decision was obvious.

  I was about halfway through the book before I was interrupted. It was just Lyall tapping on the window.

  Just the person I had been looking for. I rolled the window down all the way, settling my book on the other side of my lap. “I’m not going anywhere,” I reassured him.

  “Can I sit as well?”

  Surprised, I reached over to unlock the passenger’s side door.

  He went around the car and got in, shutting the door behind him. “Have you spoken to your parents yet?”

  “No, I was thinking about asking Heath to go with me. It doesn’t seem fair to do it over the phone.”

  Lyall nodded, looking straight ahead. “I understand you’re more familiar with Heath, but I would like to offer my support. I’ve known them for a long time.”

  That was actually a relief. I smiled at him. “That’d be great. When can we go?”

  “Anytime you want,” he said magnanimously.

  I started the car and shifted into gear, taking him at his word.
At the lack of protest, I drove away from the house and toward my parents’.

  Debating on how I was going to bring up the whole command a shifter trait I had, I winced at the memory of having used it on Kurt. On accident or not, that wasn’t right. I had to be more careful.

  It took a while before I mustered up an easy way into the conversation.

  “Lyall?”

  “Yes, Gemma?”

  “Didn’t my parents ever wonder what made his eye glow?”

  “Oh, definitely. However, they were limited in their options since sending his DNA out to be analyzed is risky. I believe once you were born they hoped it was a rare manifestation of coloboma. It didn’t seem to bother him, so it went on the backburner.”

  I chewed on my bottom lip, then shook my head at myself. We were already around the corner from our house, I would have to talk to him about it after the visit.

  The house I grew up in was tiny two-bedroom house, squeezed in between larger houses. I parked right in front and stepped out of the car, drawing a deep breath.

  My parents might not accept it from word alone. I took lead on the walk up to the door, pulling out my keys. I unlocked the door and pushed it open, knocking loudly as I did so.

  Normally that was enough to send my mother rushing toward the door, even before I moved out.

  Nobody came.

  Everything was normal in the foyer. I leaned over further, frowning. “What’s on the floor in the kitchen?” I asked aloud, puzzled.

  Lyall nudged me aside as he quickly moved toward the kitchen before I could do more than blink.

  I took a few steps in, tilting my head. It looked like spilled spaghetti.

  “Let’s go.” Lyall was suddenly back, blocking my way with his hands almost touching my shoulders.

  “Why would we leave before--?” I started to ask, and then stopped. I looked at him, reading the concern, before darting around him and running the few steps to the kitchen. I thought he might try to stop me, but he didn’t.

  The kitchen was a mess. Overturned chairs, broken shards of our horticulture-themed mugs, and an overturned pan of spaghetti. Thank goodness it was actually spaghetti and not entrails or something. But worst of all, carved into the round kitchen table was two words.