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

by Lauren Jankowski

  “Photography, art, photography, mythology, hmm these are new,” Shae’s voice drew her attention over to where she was looking through Isis’ few books. Isis had gone out after getting suspended and purchased a few mythology and paranormal books, none of which provided any help with her quandary. Isis turned her attention back to where Steve was still looking out the window.

  “Steve, what the hell are you looking at?” she asked, irritated. Steve was quiet for a moment, his eyes glued to the night.

  “I think there’s something out there,” he spoke in a soft tone of voice. Shae looked up and Isis moved over to where Steve was standing. She gently pushed him to the side as she peered out the small window, observing the quiet night.

  “Wow, you’re right. Look at all those trees and light posts,” she said with no small amount of sarcasm. “The increase in work is making you paranoid, detective.”

  Steve gave her a very dry look and peered out the blinds one final time to the empty street outside.

  *~*~*~*~*

  Jet turned up the collar of his long coat, his eyes fixed on the building across the street. He was watching one window in particular, which had become illuminated a few minutes ago. It was on the fourth floor and, from what he could see, the occupant had drawn the blinds. Crossing his arms over his chest, he tapped one gloved finger on his arm. Minutes passed and soon he felt a drop of rain hit his head. The protector looked up to the sky, sniffing the air. Another drop slapped his forehead, trailing down his temple.

  “Perfect,” he muttered as he rolled his neck, listening to the deep cracks and resumed his watching. Jet shrank back in the shadows when the blinds were disturbed. Someone was looking out the window, but Jet was far enough away to avoid detection. It began drizzling and Jet regretted not taking a hat. Thunder rumbled overhead, but he disregarded it, having more important things on his mind. Mostly, he was wondering how much the young photographer had figured out. Jet had been surprised at how much she looked like her mother and he couldn’t help but smile at the thought.

  “Stooping to voyeurism, I see,” a quiet but angry voice came from his right, startling him. “Quite the leader you are, Jet.”

  “Dammit, Passion!” he growled, his heart in his throat. Glancing to the side, he saw her a few feet away, looking nothing short of furious. She had always had the unnerving ability to sneak up on people with her eerily silent way of moving. Passion had tied her hair up in an elegant bun and she showed no sign of being affected by the rain. Her arms were crossed tightly and he could see she was digging her nails into her upper arm. She watched him and his mind raced through possible excuses, none of which would work.

  “I take it you’re here on unofficial business,” Jet said. He had every right to be here. Passion, on the other hand, did not. She narrowed her eyes at him. If looks could kill, Jet thought as he kept her gaze.

  “It’s really this easy for you, isn’t it?” she asked, her tone astonished. “You could just walk in there and ruin her life without thinking twice, couldn’t you?”

  Jet’s mouth dropped open as he stared at her in disbelief. “I can’t believe you’re asking me that, Passion. You think this is easy for me?”

  “I think you care more about a prophecy than innocent people,” she growled.

  Jet shook his head and turned his attention back to the window. “I won’t even dignify that with a response.”

  “I won’t let you do this, Jet. You’ll have to go through me to get to her.”

  “Okay, Passion,” Jet said as he turned to face his friend, uncrossing his arms and sliding his hands into his coat pockets. “Say I leave her alone, like you ask. How long do you think she’s going to stay hidden? She’s been asking a lot of questions about what happened at the old factory. That’s going to raise a hell of a lot of red flags, if it hasn’t already. With the current chaos, it wouldn’t be difficult for one person to disappear. Any experienced assassin could easily take advantage of this situation. You know there’s currently a power struggle of some sort happening among assassins, right? A half-guardian would be a very tempting mark.”

  Passion went quiet for a moment, her expression reflecting hesitance. The rain picked up, soaking them both. The wind howled through the trees, lifting a few loose strands of Passion’s hair.

  “She has protection,” she argued, shaking her head.

  “Not enough,” Jet replied, fidgeting when he felt rain drops crawling down the back of his neck.

  “Get her more,” Passion snapped.

  Jet let out a frustrated laugh and dragged his hands down his face. “You still don’t get it. She’s a hybrid, something that hasn’t happened for centuries. Her bloodline alone means she will always be in danger and if she doesn’t learn to defend herself, she won’t survive long.”

  Passion was quiet for a long while as the storm continued to intensify.

  “Leave,” she finally spoke calmly. “Don’t let me catch you around here again.”

  Jet opened his mouth to reply, then thought better of it and closed it. He shook his head in defeat, stepped around her and vanished into the night. Passion closed her eyes and inhaled, holding her breath for a moment before exhaling. Allowing her eyes to flutter open, she looked up to the window that Jet had been watching. A sudden melancholy overtook her and her eyes changed from green to blue. She hated arguing with her friend, but her priorities were clear. The cold rain continued to pour down her bare shoulders and her red dress clung to her body. After a moment, Passion stepped back into the darkness and disappeared in a flash of silver.

  *~*~*~*~*

  “You could’ve gone with her.”

  Steve looked over at Isis, who was stretched across the couch with her legs resting on Steve’s lap. She always liked to sprawl across furniture like a cat whereas Steve preferred just sitting and taking up as little space as possible. Shae had left more than an hour ago to go clubbing. She loved to be around people and often went out at night, usually in the nearest city. Isis had gone once and decided to never do it again. Shae and Steve were quick to agree with her. Large crowds of people and Isis just didn’t mix.

  Steve shook his head. “Maybe if I didn’t just work a full shift or if I didn’t have to work a double tomorrow. I have enough of a headache without listening to blasting techno noise for hours on end. The club scene is more Justin’s area than mine. He’s more the extrovert.”

  “How is your boyfriend anyway?” Isis asked, feeling a little guilty for not asking earlier. Isis almost never got along with her friends’ partners — Justin being the very rare exception. He was very similar to Steve, calm and level-headed. When they had first met, Isis had been impressed with his patience and unflappable demeanor. Justin eventually won her over when she saw how happy he and Steve were together.

  “Partner,” Steve corrected, making Isis grin. “He’s good, just out there saving the world. When we last spoke, he was working in Guinea, but he was going to be moving soon. We’re going to Skype in a couple days, if you want to say hi.”

  Isis shrugged and rested her wrists on her forehead, her eyes closed as she thought back to their school years. She had become friends with Steve in elementary school and they had attended the same middle and high school together. They had separated only when Steve went to the academy and Isis had gone to study photography. She had a knack for it and even had a few shows in the beginning of her career. Her advisor had called her the next Diane Arbus, although most of her work had been of nature. Her need to make a living had forced Isis to give up her passion and settle for photojournalism, which she didn’t particularly care for even though she was good at it.

  “Do you ever feel like you’re meant for something more?” she asked, as she opened her eyes again and focused on the ceiling.

  “I’m sure everyone does at one time or another,” Steve replied as he looked over at her. “Why do you ask?”

  She was quiet for a moment, thinking over her words. “I don’t know. I’ve always felt out of pl
ace, like I’m in the wrong life or something. If that makes any sense.”

  “Sounds kind of ominous.”

  Isis shrugged. “I don’t know what to do, Steve. I know I saw that body. I’m not going to stop until I figure out what happened. I just wish I knew where the hell to actually look.”

  Steve smiled at her sympathetically, gently rubbing her shin.

  “You’re going to be fine,” he reassured her. “You’ll figure everything out. You’re too damn stubborn to give up.”

  Isis grinned, quirking an eyebrow. “I seem to remember you saying something similar in high school.”

  Steve laughed and shook his head. Isis had always been headstrong, something that didn’t go over well with most teachers. Steve was a born goody two-shoes, but after befriending her, he frequently found himself in the principal’s office or sitting in detention on a fairly regular basis. Then there had been the times Isis had nearly gotten into physical altercations when other students made the mistake of attempting to bully the few friends she had. Isis never knew how she managed to avoid suspensions.

  “Hey Steve?” a thoughtful frown crossed her face. “How many sports have you played?”

  Steve brightened up and twisted his body a little, whistling as he thought about the question. “Let’s see, I’ve been in some form of track since the first grade. I tried baseball for two years, played basketball throughout high school. I tried soccer for one season, didn’t really care for it. I always play football at family get-togethers. You and I took those self-defense courses together, but I’m not sure if that’s a sport.”

  Isis propped up her upper body with her elbows. “Have you ever been injured?”

  “Um,” Steve shut his eyes, shaking his head after a moment. “No, not that I can recall.”

  Isis was quiet for a while, studying him. “That doesn’t strike you as . . . unusual?”

  Steve stared at her. “Do you want me to get hurt, Isis?”

  She shook her head. “No.”

  An uncomfortable silence fell between them. Isis flopped down again, covering her eyes with the backs of her hands.

  “I’m losing my mind, Steve.”

  Steve snorted. “That’s assuming you were ever sane to begin with.”

  Isis gently kicked him and smiled. Steve winced a little with a quiet hiss and she tilted her head, lifting her hands up so she could peer at him.

  “I twisted the wrong way, might have pulled a muscle in my leg,” he explained. She nodded, unconvinced. For a while, they just sat there, not saying anything. Then Steve stretched his arms above his head, dropping them back at his sides.

  “You good to stay alone tonight or do you want me to sleep on the couch?” he asked. Isis shook her head.

  “No. I’ll be fine,” she said, swinging her legs off the couch so Steve could stand up. Isis glanced at the small digital clock on the bookcase. It was eleven o’clock.

  “I’m right downstairs if you need me,” Steve reminded his friend as they moved toward the door. Throughout their lives, they had been neighbors.

  Isis unlocked the door and opened it. “My ever-vigilant protector.”

  “What would you do without me?” Steve replied with a charming grin.

  “Goodnight,” she said.

  “Night,” Steve said, pointing at her. “No all-nighter. You have to sleep.”

  Isis laughed and nodded, watching as Steve strode down the hall toward the stairs. He never took elevators if he could avoid them, preferring stairs whenever he could. She closed the door again and locked it, leaning her back against the cool wood. She closed her eyes and rested her head against the door, her mind wandering back to when she had first met Steve. Her life was certainly better with him in it and Isis knew she wasn’t the easiest person to get along with. Throughout her life, Shae and Steve were often her only friends. While she and Shae clashed on occasion, she almost never fought with Steve. It was pleasant, having a friend that she could always turn to and trust not to be judgmental.

  Isis opened her eyes and stepped away from the door. She moved into the kitchen and toward the windows, peering out the blinds. With two fingers, she lifted the blinds a little and looked out into the night. The storm hadn’t lasted very long, maybe half an hour. The water glistened on the leaves of the trees and the tan pavement. The streets were bare, nobody in sight. No strange shadows or unusual shapes. Everything was just . . . quiet.

  Isis dropped the blinds again, muttering under her breath, “Ridiculous.”

  She moved out of the kitchen and through the apartment to her small bedroom, switching off the lights as she went. When she entered her bedroom, Isis moved to the small table beside the bed, switching on the lamp and opening the single drawer in the table, pulling out the expandable baton she always kept in there. She held it for a minute, staring at the short black instrument, something tugging at her mind. After a moment, Isis shook her head and placed it on the table, turning her attention to the bed. She pulled aside the soft blankets and sat down, swinging her long legs up and under the covers. Once she was comfortable, she reached up and switched off the lamp.

  Isis lay with her head on the soft pillow for a while, simply staring at nothing as she replayed the incident in the warehouse in her head. I know I didn’t imagine that whole thing, she thought as she slowly drifted off to sleep.

  *~*~*~*~*

  Isis wandered through the crumbling ruins of what had once been a magnificent castle of stone. Her feet were bare and she was wearing a crimson dress that fastened behind her neck. The dress had an uneven hemline, much like a dancer’s dress. The material was smooth and sleek and felt absolutely wonderful against her flesh. She looked up to the sky, watching as clouds raced overhead.

  A sudden fire lit within her and she felt the desire to run, to be free. She began to run forward, unbothered by the rough stone underfoot. The air was so clean and sweet. She shivered with pleasure as she continued to move through the strange land. A sudden growling brought her attention to the left, where she spotted a sleek black leopard stretched out beneath a massive tree. The large cat’s golden eyes met hers and Isis felt a strange connection with the enormous animal.

  Her skin was sparkling, as if it held all the stars in the sky. It should have been a strange sight, but she was unbothered. The vastness of the land, its call was too strong to ignore. Yet she didn’t know how to answer it. She wanted to, needed to, but she had absolutely no idea how. Isis stared up at the higher pillars that were still standing. Cats of all shapes and sizes, wild and domesticated, were perched up on the tops, all watching her. Everywhere she looked, there were animals of all shapes and sizes. She ran her slender hands up her neck and into her hair, her pulse beating just a little faster. Her temperature rose a little and she could feel the heat rising from her skin.

  Her eyes snapped open when she heard a distant howl. For a split second, her vision was heat sensitive. She blinked and it went back to normal, though all her senses remained sharper. The mysterious call felt as though it were already a part of her.

  After a few more steps, she came upon a short flight of stairs. Isis stepped up on the first step, twisting around when she heard the whisper of paw pads against stone. A coyote stood a few feet behind her. They looked at each other for a moment. Isis knelt down and the animal approached her without hesitation. He had sandy brown fur and his back was mottled with silver. He tucked his bushy tail between his legs and licked the bottom of her face and neck, whining affectionately and wagging his tail. Isis smiled and stroked his soft fur. For a split second, she saw herself through the coyote’s eyes. She looked almost ethereal, like a goddess towering above the animal.

  She stroked the coyote’s head again. The animal turned and looked deeper into the ruins, his ears flattening against his head and a rumbling growl vibrating in his throat. She tried to soothe the frightened animal as he slowly backed up until he was almost cowering behind her. Straightening up again, Isis felt the wind blow her dark hair back.


  There was a square-shaped opening in front of her, a doorway of some kind. Tendrils of milky white reached out, fluttering weightlessly in the wind. They seemed to reach for her, beckoning her to come inside. She instantly became wary, bending her knees and stiffening her posture. Her eyes darted around, searching for some other way to enter the ruins. She glanced down when she heard the coyote start yipping. He loped forward to one of the walls, leapt up on the stone and looked back to her.

  Instinct took over as Isis ran forward and leapt up onto the stone, landing on two feet instead of four. She hopped off the stones, landing in a crouching position on the other side of the wall. Isis continued wandering, her senses alert for even the smallest change in her surroundings. Glancing back briefly to where the coyote still stood on the wall, she saw him sitting on his haunches, watching her every move.

  Isis turned and continued forward, but slowed her pace so that she was walking. Stone changed to soft grass and suddenly she was coming to the edge of a cliff. She cautiously peered down to the rushing water below. Isis couldn’t believe her eyes when she saw the steep drop. She could barely make out the dark blue water below that crashed upon the shore. The wind blew at her back, her hair reaching forward. Turning back, Isis noticed a strange tan and white shape to her right. Isis frowned and walked along the cliff edge to investigate, uneasiness growing with every step. As she neared it, Isis heard a sudden crunch. The ground had become dry and rough beneath her feet. Isis looked down and took a step back.

  There was a large circle of dead withered grass just in front of whatever the shape was. When she stepped onto the dead grass, the air suddenly took on an artificial quality. It was as though it had been recycled and sterilized. The color of her dress even seemed to dull. Isis turned her attention to the strange shape a few feet away from her, in the center of the circle of dead grass.