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

by Lauren Jankowski

  Isis narrowed her eyes at him as she stood up again. “You’re a despicable man.”

  “Undoubtedly,” he replied. “Stay behind her. There’s a secret passage that will take us outside. The fighting is sparser out there. You’re less likely to get shot.”

  “Well, I’ve already been stabbed in the back, so what’s a little bullet wound?” Isis stated, moving to stand behind Adara, wishing she had a weapon of some kind. Coop stared at her, his brow furrowing a little.

  “I was unaware you were wounded. Are you—?”

  “It’s a figure of speech, you ass!”

  Coop looked puzzled but moved to stand in front of the assassin. They started to move toward the staircase leading to the main part of the manor.

  “You won’t escape him, daughter of the Meadows,” Adara mentioned, turning her head a little. “Someone has their eyes on you. I almost feel pity for you. Me they just want to kill, but you . . . oh, if only you knew what’s waiting for you.”

  “If only you knew how much I really don’t care,” Isis replied, wanting to get out of the creepy manor. She didn’t need to be subjected to some assassin’s vague threats. As they approached the stairway, Isis felt very uneasy. It was too quiet. Something was wrong.

  “Coop . . . ?”

  They reached the stairway and immediately, bullets rained down on them. Isis gasped when blood splattered in her eyes, temporarily blinding her. For a split second, she thought she had been shot. When she realized she hadn’t, Isis threw herself backward, attempting to find cover so she could get the blood out of her eyes. Her hand brushed against something wet and spongey causing Isis to gag, her mind conjuring up unpleasant images about what she had touched.

  She heard a crunch, clattering, and three shots. Wiping the blood out of her eyes and off her face as best she could, Isis blinked a few times to clear her vision. A shadow fell over her and Isis twisted, striking out with a strong kick. She managed to hit the guard’s knee, causing him to lose his balance, and was about to follow through with a kick to the helmeted head when she heard a thwack noise. The man stiffened and toppled over, revealing the grip of a knife embedded in the back of his neck up to the hilt.

  “No, no, no!”

  She turned her attention from the dead man to where Coop was looking at Adara’s body. Isis swallowed as she got back to her feet, looking around for any more guards as she approached him. Looking down at the body, Isis could tell the woman was dead. She had been shot in the head a couple times and half her skull was missing.

  Coop had a hand on his forehead, a defeated look on his face. “Every time. Every time I get close to an answer or a lead, they always snatch it away. They toy with me, they constantly toy with me and I can’t take it anymore.”

  Isis looked over at him, hearing a hint of frustration in his flat tone. Her eyes widened when she saw he had been shot in the stomach and the shoulder. It looked like a bullet had grazed his neck and temple as well. Blood was pumping heavily from his wounds and she couldn’t believe he was still standing, let alone walking.

  “Coop, you’ve been shot!” Isis exclaimed as she looked around for anything to bind the wounds with.

  “I am aware,” he replied, moving over to the steps and slumping down on them. Dropping his face into his hands, he let out a long breath.

  “We have to find something to slow the blee — what the fucking hell!?”

  Isis stumbled back when the wounds started to rapidly disappear, the skin healing almost instantly. Coop didn’t appear to notice as his gaze traveled back to the assassin’s body. Folding his hands together, he rested them against his lips. To Isis, he looked like a beaten man and she couldn’t help but feel some sort of sympathy for him. Isis approached him again and cautiously reached out, putting a hand on his shoulder.

  Coop jerked back at the touch, raising his hand as if to ward off a blow, and she pulled her hand back. He looked back at the body. Isis bit her lower lip and sat next to him. For a moment, they sat in silence, listening to the fighting above them. It sounded like it was gradually letting up.

  “I think . . . I think I’m tired,” Coop finally spoke. “I do not know for certain, but it feels like what I’ve read about tiredness.”

  He ran a bloody hand over his dark hair, closing his eyes. “It is frustrating to constantly fight when you know it’s unlikely any good will come from it. You fight and you fight, but you still lose. I don’t understand how normals do it.”

  Isis shrugged, brushing some hair behind her ear, grimacing at the ache in her body. “I don’t know if it will make you feel any better, but . . . you did manage to save my skin tonight, even if you were kind of a dick about it.”

  Coop let out a quiet huff of laughter, glancing over his shoulder. “The fighting is letting up; it will be over soon. The guards are starting to withdraw. They’ve completed their mission; they have no reason to stay. Your teammates will be looking for you. And me too, I suppose.”

  “I guess I owe you a drink,” Isis mentioned, looking up to the heavy door leading to the main floor. It was getting a lot quieter.

  Coop shook his head. “I don’t consume alcohol. I’m either going to be in the dungeons in the Meadows or else out of town anyway.”

  “Ah,” Isis said, raising an eyebrow. “Things to do, places to go, people to save? That kind of thing?”

  Coop smiled faintly, a sad reminiscing kind of smile. “In a way. There are some shape shifters out there who need help and I’m one of the only ones who can do that.”

  “Shape shifters?”

  “I wish I could tell you more, but there is no time and these walls have many ears.”

  “Go,” Isis whispered, looking up the stairs. The sounds of gunfire had almost completely ceased and even the alarms had gone silent. She glanced back to him when she felt his eyes on her. He was staring at her with a questioning expression.

  “I do not understand.”

  “Of course you don’t, you’re from Mars,” Isis teased with a grin. “You saved me and now I saved you, so that makes us even. I’m going to leave and as far as I’m concerned, you escaped after . . . helping me out. But if our paths cross again, don’t expect me to stick my neck out for you.”

  Isis stood and hurried up the stairs, shutting the door behind her. Coop stared after her for a moment, trying to understand the gesture. She was the second member of her family to set him free. Coop looked down to his hands, swallowing as his mind drifted back to his dark past, losing track of time for the first time in ages. It wasn’t often he had a moment to rest and he wanted to savor it for however long it would last.

  “I’ve said it once, I’ll say it again: you’re a stupid, stupid man.”

  Coop shook his head. “How could you have possibly known I’d be here?”

  Dane strode out from one of the dark corners, likely leading to some sort of secret passage. Sauntering over to the stairs, he pulled himself up and over the railing, sinking down on the steps next to Coop, glancing around the space at the bodies. He rolled his eyes back to Coop, an almost mischievous look creeping onto his face.

  “Never can leave the past in the past, can you?” he observed. “Bloodbaths follow us wherever we go.”

  Coop grunted in response, leaning back on the steps. The smells in the air were starting to bother him, but he disregarded it.

  “A nice normal saves you, offers to buy you a drink, and you just let her vanish into the night,” Dane clicked his tongue and shook his head in mock disappointment. Coop turned his eyes back to Dane.

  “We’re not allowed that luxury. The Corporation saw to that long ago, the one you insist on returning to despite being offered a way out,” he pointed out. Dane leaned back on the steps, his smile slipping only a little.

  “Don’t lash out at me because you can’t repress what you are, my friend. I’ve warned you about that how many times now?” Dane began, interlacing his fingers as he put them behind his head.

  “Right,” Coop replied. He ha
d forgotten about most of what the Corporation did to shape shifters, which he was thankful for. When someone escaped from hell, reminiscing about the place wasn’t exactly high on the list of things to do.

  “You know, you could come back with me. I’ll help you catch the guardian’s daughter—”

  “Leave it alone, Dane,” Coop warned and Dane lifted his shoulders in a nonchalant shrug.

  “Figured I’d offer, in case you had actually come to your senses,” Dane said, straightening up so that he rested on his elbows. “Off to save the world then?”

  “Not the world, just you and the others,” Coop replied, as his eyes travelled over the blood splattered walls. “You deserve to be free, Dane, whether you believe it or not.”

  “We don’t need saving, Coop. You’re wasting your time,” Dane muttered, his tone becoming much darker. He stood up again, sticking his hands in his pockets as he began walking up the stairs. “Your attempt at selflessness is going to get you captured and something tells me the welcome home party won’t be a pleasant experience.”

  Coop shook his head and looked down to his thumbs, tapping them together. He had given up on giving Dane hope a long time ago. It was impossible to give hope to someone who didn’t believe in it. Still, no one could blame Dane for being the pessimist he was. Few knew what he went through day in and day out, what he had gone through from the day he’d been born. The fact that Dane retained his sarcastic personality was a miracle in and of itself.

  “You didn’t answer my question,” Coop said, stopping Dane in his tracks. “How did you know I would be here?”

  Dane twisted around, looking over his shoulder. “I didn’t. I heard some rather interesting whispers around the barracks, something about a shift in power among assassins, and I was intrigued. When I got here, I noticed the protectors were getting involved and I know how much you enjoy fighting hopeless battles alongside the underdog. Figured I’d make sure you didn’t get in over your head.”

  “Were you . . . were you worried about me?” Coop asked, almost not believing what he heard. Dane froze for a moment, his indifferent demeanor slipping for a split second before the walls went right back up.

  “Don’t flatter yourself,” he scoffed as he continued up the stairs. “Watch your back, Coop.”

  With that, Dane was gone, heading back to the hellish prison where he lived. Coop grinned a little, vowing that he would free Dane and the others and soon. He would prove to them that hope and freedom existed, even if it was the last thing he did.

  With that silent vow, Coop stood and moved up the stairs, disappearing into the night.

  *~*~*~*~*

  Isis woke up in a comfortable bed in the healing wing of the Pearl Castle. Clean sheets were drawn up to her shoulders and the room was peaceful. She was on her side, fully healed thanks to Amethyst, and in clean clothes. Her eyes fluttered open and she smiled as she breathed in the pure air. The morning birds chirped outside. The bright sun beamed down upon her, casting shadows of the window upon her bed and the clean tiled floor. A cool breeze drifted in from an open window and Isis closed her eyes again, basking in the perfect atmosphere that was the polar opposite of the hell she had escaped the previous night.

  “You stubborn reckless woman!”

  Isis jumped up in shock, not realizing how close she was to the edge of the bed. She fell backward, entangled in the covers as she wound up in an undignified heap on the floor.

  “God dammit, Steve!” Isis yelled as she straightened up again, tossing the covers back onto the bed. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

  “What’s wrong with me!?” Steve shouted, exasperated. “You’re the one who doesn’t seem to realize the purpose of gates!”

  “Yeah, well, learn how to answer your damn phone, jackass!” Isis shot back, unable to think of a good retort. She glared at her friend, though part of her wondered why he was there in the first place. The Meadows was supposed to be inaccessible to all but the guardians and a few select shape shifters.

  “Hey!”

  Both Steve and Isis turned at the sound of a new voice. Electra stood a few feet away with her hands on her hips. There was a flash of faded pink as a messenger rushed past the young guardian.

  “We can hear you two out in the main hall,” she scolded.

  “She started it,” Steve protested, pointing at Isis.

  “Real mature, Steve,” Isis replied, irritated. Electra rolled her eyes and shook her head.

  Isis smoothed the front of her jeans, glancing at her friend again. She was wearing her clothes from last night, and it made her a little self-conscious to be around guardians who were all dressed in finery. Usually Isis couldn’t sleep in street clothes, but she had been so exhausted last night that she hadn’t even noticed what she was wearing. She had barely had enough energy to tell Amethyst where she had been wounded. Noticing that Steve was wearing a regular plain blue t-shirt and black jeans — his normal weekend off-hours attire — Isis felt a lot less self-conscious.

  “What is he doing here anyway? He’s human,” Isis grumbled, stretching one arm across her chest. The guardian healers really were remarkable; Isis didn’t even feel any lingering ache from last night’s fight. She was certain she had at least broken a couple ribs. Steve and Electra exchanged an uncomfortable look.

  “Steve is . . . well, he’s actually a shape shifter, from a long line of protectors,” Electra explained, her tone careful. “He was assigned to protect you. It’s a long, complicated story.”

  “Oh good, another one of those,” Isis commented as she sat back on the bed and slipped on her black shoes.

  “Are you mad?” Steve asked, looking at her with his big brown doe-eyes. Isis closed her eyes and rubbed the side of her face.

  “No, I’m not mad,” she replied after a moment, turning her eyes back to her friend. “After everything that has happened over the past couple months, I’m actually not even really that surprised to be honest.”

  She got up and started to leave the room.

  “Where are you going?” Electra asked, drawing Isis’ attention back to her.

  “Are the other three here?” she asked. Electra nodded. Isis shrugged and replied, “Then I’m off to find them and hopefully chill out for a few minutes until we have to save the world again.”

  “Have fun,” Electra said with a small smile. Isis returned the smile and nodded, slipping out of the healing rooms, eager to find her three friends, teammates, whatever they could be called. I think I could actually get used to this strange new life, she thought with a soft laugh.

  *~*~*~*~*

  Jet, Lilly, and Adonia watched Isis rejoin the other three from Adonia’s office in the castle. Jet and Lilly turned when they heard a knock on the door.

  “Enter,” Adonia called out and the door opened. A messenger gestured for Sly to enter and she sauntered into the office, giving Jet and Lilly a crafty smile. Approaching the large desk, she folded herself into one of the chairs, crossing one long leg over the other.

  “Good day to all of you. How does this fine morning find you?” she teased, mocking the formality frequently favored by guardian leaders. Lilly smiled a little, crossing her arms over her chest, while Jet studied her.

  “Did you find anything?” he asked after a moment. Sly whistled, laying her hands over her knee.

  “I did, though I do not think it will put your minds at ease. There’s a spot near the forest I frequent, an old campsite that isn’t used anymore. It’s a favorite meeting spot for local assassins, due to its remoteness. You can talk about all sorts of unsavory business and not worry about being overheard. They also leave notes for each other, which you really can’t decipher unless you’re also an assassin. Boring stuff mostly: so-and-so is covering this job, vague threats, warnings, things like that. Anyway, after hearing about the ruckus last night, I figured there might be some sort of note or message to recognize the new regime, some attempt to get on ole Blackjack’s good side.”

  “Was there?” L
illy asked and Sly nodded.

  “I found Gia strung up by her ankles in the old oak tree, disemboweled, throat slit from ear-to-ear. They had branded her too,” Sly raised her hands up. “An odd symbol was burned into her palms, one I’ve seen here and there. The same one I believe young Isis stumbled upon before she came to the mansion.”

  Sly dropped her hands again, raising an eyebrow as she waited for their response. Lilly turned her wide eyes to Jet and he could see the same dread he felt in her gaze. Assassins were known to be brutal when taking over territories, but they didn’t often target each other. If they did, they tended to make the kills quick.

  “Not sure about you, but I think that message is pretty loud and clear,” Sly mentioned. “We’re now in the era of Blackjack and whoever is backing him.”

  “Were you able to find any trace of Coop?” Lilly asked and Sly shook her head in response.

  “The guy has disappeared off the face of the Earth. In fact, I can’t find a shred of evidence that he ever even existed. Your man of mystery knows how to hide his tracks,” she reported. “Did you get any leads on the mystery shadow watching out for Isis?”

  “No,” Jet replied, looking back out the window, glancing over at Adonia. “I guess we’re still in the dark and that greatly concerns me.”

  For a long while Adonia was silent, watching her great granddaughter converse with Jade, Alex, and Shae. The heavenly appearance of her office helped calm everyone’s nerves. She turned from the window.

  “I feel as though our questions will be answered, probably very soon,” she said. “I only hope that we are prepared for the answers we receive.”

  Jet and Lilly exchanged a look and watched Adonia stride out of her office, closing the door behind her.

  “You protectors are such a fun bunch,” Sly quipped, scrunching up her nose a little. “I do agree with her: it would appear someone is making a name for themselves and I don’t think they are the type who would be content to stay behind the scenes for very long.”