Sere from the Green (The Shape Shifter Chronicles Book 1)

by Lauren Jankowski

  “I gave you an answer,” he snapped. She clicked her tongue and looked off into the woods, her gaze becoming distant.

  “You’ve been so distracted by this recent increase in crime and the instability among the assassins that you never looked right in front of your nose,” Sly murmured, thinking aloud. “I believe I warned you about that before you decided to follow up on this lead.”

  “What does that mean?”

  Sly rolled her neck and turned her eyes back to him. “Think about it, Jet. Who’s the missing body?”

  “Gia, but it wasn’t her. She’s part of the Four,” Jet replied as he began to think back on the night. He had lost contact with Gia shortly after Nat died. Her earpiece had just shorted out, but that didn’t make sense. Jet and Remington had done a complete equipment check that day. They had known there was a possibility for danger — there always was, but they were usually prepared. There was no reason why Gia’s earpiece should have just gone silent the way it did.

  Sly chuckled, pulling Jet out of his thoughts.

  “I’m guessing you don’t do complete background checks on your assets,” she stated, smiling craftily as she looked at Jet.

  “Of course I do,” he said, insulted at the suggestion he was careless.

  “Not thoroughly enough. Had you listened to me before, this night could’ve been avoided,” she stated in her typical cryptic manner.

  “Spit it out, Sly,” Jet growled. She would dance around the issue all night if only to annoy him.

  “Young Gia’s loyalty has always been to Adara,” Sly stated matter-of-factly. “The woman basically raised her. Your supposed member of the Four was actually a turncoat, an assassin born and bred.”

  Jet felt a wave of nausea overtake him. Adara was one of the top assassins, prominent among the separatists, and a constant thorn in the protectors’ side. Little was known about the small but extremely dangerous group of shape shifters that were assassins and even less was known about their leaders. Shortly before Jet and Lilly had become the leaders of the protectors, assassins had joined with the separatists; shape shifters that believed their species was superior to all others and therefore should wield the most power. The violent tactics of the separatists meant job security for assassins.

  “No, that can’t be right. You’re lying,” Jet repeated. Sly, who had been walking away, twisted back to look at him.

  “And what exactly would I have to gain by lying?” Sly asked before turning again, calling over her shoulder, “In the future, you might want to consider looking at all the evidence with a clear head before confronting me, Jet. I might not be in such a good mood next time.”

  Jet leaned against a tree and looked up at the moon, the coolness of the soft glow calming him.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked. Sly turned around and leaned against a nearby tree, a few feet away from him.

  “You don’t ask, I don’t tell. That’s always been the rule,” Sly answered as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

  “Two innocent protectors died tonight—”

  “Protectors die every day. Not my problem, not really yours either,” Sly interrupted. “And I still think you should revisit your interpretation of that prophecy.”

  Jet was quiet for a moment. “I don’t know what that means.”

  “No news there,” Sly said with a half-smile. “Read your copy of the prophecy carefully, Jet, every word. You really don’t want to skim those things.”

  Jet gave her a look that was anything but amused. She held his gaze, her devil-may-care attitude never slipping.

  “I don’t suppose you’re going to help me,” Jet mumbled.

  “I already have,” she replied with a shrug. “Since you’ve had such a rough night, I’ll give you a freebie but I want to reiterate that I still think prophecies are complete bullshit that make you lazy. Might as well read tea leaves or bird innards or whatever the hell humans do nowadays.”

  Jet almost rolled his eyes. “Yes, you’ve told me. Time and time again.”

  Sly cocked an eyebrow. “From what I understand about this particular prophecy, there’s a line concerning one of royal and common blood.”

  “Yes?” Jet asked. Sly pulled herself up to a low branch on the tree, sprawling out over the rough bark. She resembled the Cheshire cat as she watched him, slowly swinging her legs back and forth behind her.

  “Since the original prophecy is contained in the Book of Oracle — a guardian book — and they hold us in such high regard,” Sly smirked when Jet rolled his eyes at her sarcasm. “Would it be fair to say that the phrase ‘common blood’ most likely refers to shape shifters?”

  “I suppose,” Jet answered, but he took the words with a grain of salt as he always did. It was of no matter to Sly. Either he took her advice or he didn’t. She sat up and leaned back against the trunk, pulling one knee up to her chest.

  “So, if we follow that logic, then ‘royal blood’ would probably refer to the guardians. A guardian and a shape shifter sleeping together, in defiance of the most sacred of Sacred Laws,” Sly gasped overdramatically as her hand fluttered up to her chest. “Scandalous.”

  Jet glared at her, which amused her even more.

  “So, who do we know that has broken the most sacred of the Sacred Laws and remains a guardian to this day?” Sly asked, waiting for Jet to respond.

  He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I assume you’re referring to Passion.”

  “Aw, give the boy a cookie. He got one right,” Sly said. “To sum up, we agree that the prophecy is most likely referring to her daughter.”

  “Electra?” Jet asked skeptically.

  Sly arched an eyebrow and hopped down from her branch, brushing the dirt off her pants.

  “No, Jet. I don’t think the prophecy is referring to Electra,” Sly replied in her God-you’re-an-idiot tone. “I’d recommend facing the truth soon, Jet. Something is going on and whatever it is, it’s not good. You may not like her, but at least Adara is the devil you know. She keeps stability among the assassins in this area. If that goes, well, it will lead to all sorts of unpleasantness.”

  “I thought you didn’t believe in prophecies,” Jet pointed out. Sly turned from him, walking off into the shadows.

  “I don’t,” she called back. “I trust in what I see, as should you.”

  She vanished into the night. Jet stared at the place where she had been standing, not bothering to call out. She had already told him everything he needed to know and he didn’t have the patience for more of her games. The silver stars twinkled merrily in the sky, winking and glimmering. A million thoughts warred for control in his mind as he turned in the direction of home, wanting desperately to get into the nice comfortable bed he shared with his wife and sleep off the night’s events. He brushed past plants, his jeans quietly whispering against the jagged green leaves. Jet was so lost in thought he didn’t notice a pair of blue eyes watching him. As he continued on, the figure followed him, staying up in the trees.

  The branches overhead rustled, drawing Jet’s attention. He frowned as he squinted and looked into the branches, trying to find the origin of the quiet sound. After a moment, he kept walking, keeping a sharp ear open. Shape shifters had superior hearing and could often pick up sounds that humans missed. No one else would have heard the figure silently descend from the treetops and weightlessly land. Jet waited until both of its feet were on the ground before striking out with a roundhouse kick. The figure caught his foot and used his momentum to throw him to the ground so that he landed on his back. Jet started to get up but stopped when he felt the cool blade of a knife against his throat, dangerously near his jugular. The figure’s face moved, the skin shimmering faintly in the moonlight.

  “I thought that was guardian silver,” Jet said with a smile.

  “A girl’s got to protect herself, especially in times like these,” Passion replied with a casual shrug as she put her knife back in its simple sheath and helped him to h
is feet. She was an earth guardian, one of many who kept the earth running smoothly. It was her job to keep the emotion of passion under control. Passion was the granddaughter of Adonia, the queen of the guardian women, and her mother was Artemis, next in line to rule. Jet and Passion had been friends ever since his youth and had seen each other through many trials and tribulations. He thought of her as another one of his sisters and he was the little brother she never had or knew. Guardian men and women were raised separately and rarely saw each other.

  “Lilly’s worried. She told me that you wanted to kill Sly,” Passion explained. Her throaty voice was like honey, warm and sweet to the ear.

  “Everybody wants to kill Sly,” Jet replied shortly, brushing past her. He heard her quicken her pace and she caught up to him, giving him a gentle bump with her shoulder.

  “Come on, Jet. I’m supposed to be the impulsive one,” Passion attempted to joke with her friend, sighing when her attempt fell flat. “Talk to me, please.”

  “You can relax, I didn’t kill Sly. Protectors don’t kill innocents,” Jet paused and frowned as they continued walking. “Although, I don’t think the term ‘innocent’ really applies to Sly.”

  “And to think, you and she used to be friends,” Passion snickered before sobering and becoming serious. “Do you want to talk about it?”

  “I was careless, the lead was bad, we were ambushed, end of story,” Jet answered.

  “I highly doubt it was that simple,” Passion began as she brushed some wavy strands of hair behind her ear.

  “No?” Jet asked sharply, stopping so that he could face Passion. “Aside from knowing that there has been unrest among the assassins lately, I somehow missed some important information. Gia is loyal to Adara and according to Sly, practically raised by her. I didn’t see that and I should have. So please, explain to me how this isn’t my fault.”

  Passion stared at him, unbothered by the accusatory tone. Jet turned and continued walking. Passion was quick to follow him, holding her hands behind her.

  “You’re not all-knowing, my friend. We all make mistakes — miss things that seem so obvious in hindsight. Some things we’re not meant to know until it’s too late,” she replied. “Trust me.”

  Jet looked over at her. Passion was wise and not many appreciated that about her. She had raven-colored hair, which she dyed the color of the sun and almost always kept tied up in some way. Her eyes were constantly changing color; an extremely rare guardian trait and one that hadn’t been seen in a few generations.

  “Sly also mentioned only Jade was part of the Four,” he continued.

  Passion looked at him; her pale blue eyes sparkling. She was wearing a bright red dress that had an asymmetrical cut and a plunging neckline. It wasn’t the typical guardian attire, but Passion had never been one for following pointless rules and regulations. She was determined to be herself, no matter what the other guardians thought of her. Jet had always admired that about her and he knew Lilly felt the same.

  “I suppose that’s good news,” she said as they kept walking. “Did she say anything else about who the others might be?”

  Jet rubbed the back of his stiff neck and stopped walking, wishing he hadn’t brought the subject up. Passion also stopped and looked to him expectantly and he knew he wouldn’t be able to lie to her. She was going to find out, better sooner than later.

  “She said one of them was your daughter,” Jet spoke carefully.

  Passion frowned. “Electra?”

  Jet hesitated. “No.”

  Passion was quiet as she stared at him with an unreadable expression. Jet didn’t want to be the first to break the suddenly uncomfortable silence, but he knew she wouldn’t.

  “I was hoping—” he began.

  “I’m not bringing her into this life. Neither are you or anyone else,” Passion stated with a finality that reminded Jet she was also a mother.

  “It’s not something that can be avoided indefinitely,” Jet pointed out. Passion turned from him and began to walk away. He hurried to catch up with her.

  “At some point, she’s going to notice that she’s not human,” he argued. “Passion, you’re going to have to face your past eventually.”

  Passion stopped and glared at him, incredulous. “Did you actually just say that to me? I’m reminded of my past every damn day. Every exchange I have with other guardians. Every conference I have with Aneurin and most of the guardian men. Every conversation I have with my daughter, I’m reminded of my past.”

  “I was only suggesting—”

  “I know damn well what you were suggesting,” Passion growled.

  Jet shook his head. “Passion, it’s not fair to hide the truth from them. They have a right to know.”

  Passion refused to meet his eyes. “I don’t care. You’re not bringing her into this life.”

  “Just because their father was an assassin doesn’t mean they’ll follow in his footsteps,” Jet argued. “Electra’s astute. She’s going to find out sooner or later and if she finds out later she’ll realize you kept it from her. What do you think her reaction is going to be? They’re twenty-eight, Passion. You can’t shelter them forever.”

  “I won’t let them suffer for my past,” Passion stated adamantly.

  “They won’t,” Jet reassured her. Passion turned her angry eyes back to him.

  “You’re right, they won’t. Because I forbid you to approach her, end of story.”

  Before Jet could respond, Passion disappeared in a flash of bright silver light. He stared at the empty spot she used to occupy. It was really quite annoying the way she could use the guardian ability of Appearing to get out of conversations she didn’t want to have.

  Jet ran a hand through his hair, overcome with frustration. He stood straight, his muscles and bones creaking as they changed form. Silvery black fur sprouted all over his body as he turned back into a wolf and loped through the dark forest, heading for home.

  *~*~*~*~*

  The protectors’ mansion sat hidden behind a stretch of hills in the middle of a vast tract of land. Trees were scattered throughout the property, giving the place a forest-like appearance. There was even a small brook that ran along the gravel driveway leading up to the massive home, and there were numerous animals roaming the grounds at any given time. The entire estate had always been hidden from human eyes by guardian magic: even the road leading through the hills was concealed. It acted as a safe haven for protectors and their allies; those who were trusted enough to know the secret location.

  The winding path that served as a driveway was long and ambling, weaving its way up through the hills to the enormous dwelling. Countless windows studded the façade, and there was always a light on in at least one, making it as warm and inviting throughout the night as it was during the day. The architecture evoked the French Renaissance style, with elements of Baroque and Gothic thrown in for good measure. The ancient chateaux had always belonged to the Monroe family — a gift from the guardians, and they made sure it never fell into any kind of disrepair, giving the place a timeless feeling.

  The peaceful feeling of the land was lost on Jet as he strode up the long path, soon catching sight of the towers in the distance. The sounds of nocturnal birds cascaded down from the trees. Jet kept his eyes on the ground and his hands in the pockets of his jeans as he continued on his way. In the back of his mind, he wondered whether or not anyone was still awake. At least one of his children undoubtedly, but would Lilly or Jade or Remington be up waiting for him? The grief was starting to crash down on him and Jet just wanted to sleep. He didn’t have the energy to even begin processing all that had happened.

  Looking up from his feet, Jet saw the vast chateaux in the distance. The light was on in one of the main rooms, indicating someone was awake. Jet’s eyes turned back to the path and he kicked at a large stick. In his mind, he was planning out three different conversations: one for Lilly, one for Remington, and one for Jade. He glanced to the side when he heard the roar of a moto
rcycle somewhere on the estate, probably one of his daughters. Jet scrubbed a hand over his face, wanting more than anything to get out of the tomb that the night had become. He wistfully thought of a long hot shower and climbing into bed, but knew it was unlikely sleep would come easy. It wasn’t every night that he screwed up as badly as he had this night. Looking up toward the mansion, it didn’t seem any closer. Was the path growing?

  When he finally reached the front of the towering chateaux, Jet abruptly changed his path and headed for the back, walking alongside the wall. He needed just a little more time to organize his thoughts. Jet could picture the look of disapproval on Remington’s face and distracted himself by fishing his keys out of his pocket. The rough teeth scraped against his finger, causing him to curse under his breath. Pulling the keys out, Jet angrily sorted through them, searching for the one to the kitchen door. He found it right as he entered the dull pool of light above the door. Jet carefully wrapped his fingers around the other keys so they wouldn’t jingle and began to work on the locks. He clenched his teeth as he finally finished and pushed the quiet door open. I’ve been reduced to creeping into my own home like a burglar, he thought with a mix of irritation and embarrassment.

  Jet closed the door behind him and locked it again, stuffing the keys back in his pocket. The kitchen was silent except for the soft hum of the appliances and the only light came from the long hallway. Jet continued his trek through the dark kitchens, which was the liveliest area during the daytime hours. He stepped into the hallway, glancing down at the large squares of black and white tiles. He knew the halls like the back of his hand, having called the mansion home since he was a child. Jet had been born within the chateaux’ walls and spent the greater portion of his formative years in the enormous dwelling. He’d always felt safe here, and Jet noticed some of the tension in his shoulders loosening a little as he wandered through the arches.

  There were few portraits on the towering walls of the first floor; the majority of the mansion’s art was on the second and third floors. The walls on the first floor had tapestries that told stories of great shape shifters, mostly protectors, throughout time. There were weavings of shape shifters in battle, side by side with mostly unsuspecting humans.