"I’ve got to finish packing, jog, and leave, so what’s the point?"
"Yeah," he collapsed onto the bed, muttering, "What’s the point?" before rolling over.
Left staring at his back, I was speechless. And royally fuming.
Of course, it didn’t take long to find my voice.
"I leave town in less than three hours, Blaire. So you’re just going to roll over?"
"No." He flung the sheets back and crossed the room, closing the distance between us. "I want to give you something to think about while you’re away."
Swooping me into his arms, Blaire didn’t just kiss me, he ransacked my flesh with his lips and threatened to boil my blood with his aura. Burning inside out would have been a perfect demise if I hadn't already planned out my day. Also, excavating our lust was dangerous. Reckless.
Cruel.
When my lips were mine again, I mumbled, "I'll take that into consideration," and practically ran home. Had I known the rest of my day would turn into a shit fest, I would have stayed in bed with Blaire.
Chapter Three
Sprinting over a fallen log, I turned my head for a split second to see if they still followed. It was hard to focus on the crunching gravel underfoot when the encroaching footsteps dominated my concentration.
When their scent magnified and they gained in stride, I abandoned the trail, opting for shadows and an unusually thick forest for October. We had one, maybe two more weeks before the weather snapped and warmth was a distant memory, but the leaves had already begun their chemical changes. I could smell the dank, stale aroma struggling to overpower life.
Picking up the pace, I fought the urge to let my leopard out to play but smirked as the breathy sounds from the others became labored.
"Tired already?" I jeered. "Someone better catch me today. I’m not getting any prettier."
"You’re not?" a disembodied voice inquired.
"Shit, Shane!" My stride suffered, but I recovered in record time.
"Every time we meet, you’re always running somewhere," he chuckled.
I was indebted to Shane and his kind -the shadowshifters- for saving my life when I had been poisoned by an herbal bomb delivered in a flesh wrapper. And their skill to merge into shadows left them with a keen ability to be the fly on the wall, so to speak. But Shane could definitely work on his timing.
"What are you doing here?" I asked through deep breaths.
"Meditating." What a smartass.
Shane was no more than a shadow to my right, passing from tree to tree beside my tall frame. If someone were looking, he could have been mistaken as my own shadow had the canopy above not filtered out the sun with such precision.
"How did you find me?"
He grazed my back like a strong wind, crossing to the trees on my left. "We’re everywhere. Information flows faster than the Internet in our world. You can’t hide from us."
Dodging a large stray branch, I checked to make sure I was still being followed before saying, "Gee, that’s not creepy at all."
Laughing, he reminded me, "We’ve been watching your back, as requested by your boyfriend."
"Ex."
"Sure." He didn't bother hiding his skepticism. "Anyway, things were so quiet we almost thought it was a sham assignment."
"So what’s changed? Quickly. I’m in the middle of something."
"They’re back. Well, specifically, he’s back."
My blood chilled all the way to the tips of my toes as I stopped running.
"That cockroach son-of-a-bitch that doesn’t have the decency to let me kill him is back?"
"Yes."
"Where?" I was glad I could even remember how to talk at this point.
"Yet to be determined, but we will continue gathering info. In the meantime, watch your back."
"Yeah, I'll be sure to."
"No, I mean it. Right now. Watch your back." Shane disappeared as a willowy form smashed into my back, rolling us through patches of wild ferns. Hands and legs tangled and bent awkwardly.
Laughter filled the space between wilderness and civility.
I rolled to find Mira sitting disheveled next to me, delighted. Strands of silky dark hair fell loosely from her red ponytail holder. When she smiled, there was no doubt she would grow to be as gorgeous as her bitchy sister. In this moment, so normal and impulsive, no one could tell she was cursed to walk the earth as a werewolf each full moon. But I’m guessing it never escaped her mind that she transformed into a shaggy abomination that the shifter communities shunned.
Forcing my thoughts away, I returned the smile. The girls had tried for a month to catch me. I wouldn’t break Mira’s heart by telling her that Shane had distracted me. She needed this win.
We all did.
"Now can we go home?" Ena pressed dryly as she jogged up to us.
Marisa was last to catch up. She smiled shyly in Mira’s direction. I raised an eyebrow at her.
"Sure. I guess the magic’s gone, huh?"
Ena sighed. "I appreciate the time you’re spending with us, it’s just hard when we run in the morning. I went to bed late and I still have homework to finish."
Marisa’s good nature faltered. She no longer felt comfortable in the open unless we were constantly moving. The wilderness was where our leopards were drawn to play, but these were dark days when our leopards were outvoted by human fears.
I nodded. "I’ve got shit to do, too. Let’s go."
Still proud, Mira hopped up as we began walking in the direction of the car.
I dropped Ena off at home first, then Mira. Marisa’s house was closest to mine. Usually, we enjoyed tidbits of conversation, which was rare for Marisa. She was painfully introverted nowadays. I didn’t blame her. She had been considered scrap meat by the Dissenters. And I suspected the memory of Jack haunted her greater than it did me. There are just some nightmares that feed on you, no matter if you’re asleep or wide awake.
"I’m leaving in less than an hour. You guys will have to run without me for a few days."
Her fingers tangled amongst themselves on her lap.
Running had replaced my overpowering need to fight. However, it failed to quell the emotions raging under my skin, seething like a rabid creature of destruction so fierce even my leopard shied away from it.
I was no longer me. The children were no longer young. Demons trampled our souls in the form of silence and pity. And we were slowly being dragged to hell by our memories.
I needed a miracle. Or air.
A business trip would have to suffice.
Marisa turned to me. "I don’t want to run without you."
"Just remember your defense basics and stay in town. You should be fine."
"When you aren't around," Marisa ventured to whisper, "we're different. Especially Ena."
"We all are." When she didn’t respond, I added, "Ena says the same of you. And if any of us knew Mira before, we would probably say the same of her." After a few moments of dead air, I felt like I’d been a little harsh, so I asked in a less judgmental tone, "How is she different?"
"She’s more confident."
Almost laughing, I countered, "And that’s bad?"
"Mostly."
It was clear that Marisa didn’t want to have this discussion, and she didn’t want to run without me.
"Fine." I pulled into her driveway. "Tell everyone to take a break until I get back." Reading into her distressed brow, I added, "And I won’t mention this conversation. Ever."
"Thank you." Relieved, Marisa hopped out of the car and ran inside.
I took a deep breath.
"Jesus, I’m glad I’m not a teenager anymore." Says the shifter rushing to get the fuck out of town, I finished in my head.
I was relieved to have a few minutes of silence as I drove home. The thought had crossed my mind not to leave. If not to evade the bullshit a ritual inevitably causes, then for the girls. Marisa was right, they were different now. There wasn't a one-size-fits-all manual for grief or abuse. They each needed me in t
heir own ways. But I needed freedom, if only temporarily, even if it was manufactured. Vowing to figure it all out once I returned, my mind relaxed.
My mood improved the closer I got to home. After establishing the shifter watch group known as the Collective that Tomas, leader of the local pride, and so many others had been so vocal about, anyone in said group had a 'get out of town free' card. My motivation for joining, obviously. Taking a trip was like exchanging decaf for triple-shot lattes.
Darien had been right, though. I reserved some anxiety for this trip because I was going to see my father. Old Abram had banished him over twenty years ago for his infidelity to my mother. Living in a different lepe, and now in a nest, of all goddamn places, has left a lot lacking in our relationship. I've avoided his truths and he's avoided my shame under the cloak of indifference. But carelessness tends to sprout secrets.
Pulling into a slim spot in the driveway, my car idled like a model walked a runway. All eyes were on her. It almost hurt to turn her off.
"You better be packed, Sweetness," Gage said, sauntering up to my open window like a heavy metal god. "This cat show is about to pounce."
I shooed him away from my door as I rolled the window up, kissed the steering wheel, and locked my precious 1968 Mustang Coupe.
"Bet it took you all morning to come up with that." I eyed him.
"Barely."
Chuckling under my breath, I waved him off. "I'm packed. Don't worry so much. It will cause stress lines and you don't want to lose all of that pretty, do you?"
Gage was one of the few people in my life who truly appreciated my smart mouth.
Pulling his neck into the crook of my arm, I crooned, "Who's a pretty kitty?"
A heady purr roiled through his body, vibrating into mine.
"Wouldn't you like to know?"
I pushed him away in mock disgust.
Joshua, who had been packing the back of the Pilot, peeked his head around the vehicle. "Guys, we really need to leave if we have any chance of staying on schedule."
"My bags are at the bottom of the stairs if anyone bothered to check," I whined.
"I'll grab them." As he walked by, I tossed him my keys to set on the table in the foyer. The wild strands of his honeyed locks bounced and waved as he walked inside, passing Lydia and Warren.
We filed into the car, me in the front passenger seat, Lydia and Warren cozied into a loved-up lump of 'give me a fucking break' cuteness, and Gage manspreading across the third-row seat.
"We brought popcorn!" Lydia announced, pulling stuffed baggies from one of the many designated snack bags. I snatched one of the baggies and spun in my seat, leaning against the dashboard. My legs crisscrossed against the seat back.
Joshua finished loading my bags and hopped in the driver's seat.
"What the fuck took you so long? We can't wait all day," I mused as I tossed fluffy white pieces of popcorn across the interior into Gage's mouth.
Closing his eyes, Joshua smiled. "I hope everyone stays this chipper the entire trip."
I assured him, "This won't be like last time."
Lydia had already stuck her nose in one of the many books piled in the seat beside her. She peered over the top of it, her hair clipped in a fascinating masterpiece of twists and colors.
She proudly reminded everyone, "I haven't gotten car sick since the Washington trip."
"That was literally the last trip we took," Joshua reminded her. "Did you take the motion sickness pills I packed?"
Never breaking eye contact with him, Lydia slowly raised the book, giving the illusion that she was sinking right into it until her entire face was cloaked behind the front cover again. Warren snuggled into her shoulder, ready for a cat nap.
"So no," Joshua muttered to no one particular. When he kept staring at me, I stubbornly turned around until I was seated the correct way. "Seatbelt, please."
"Fascist!" Gage yelled from the very back, surrounded by our bags.
Yes, my mood had definitely shifted. I was ready to put some miles between whatever the fuck was happening with Blaire and I. And truthfully, I needed to breathe without the girls up my ass every hour of the day.
"Who's ready for the greatest road trip ever?" I yelled, dooming us all.
Chapter Four
"I'm just saying, you jinxed us." Joshua stared right at me as he continued wiping vomit off of the console between us. "Something stops being great the moment you announce that it is going to be great."
Three hours into our trip had proven to wear us down. Lydia's projectile vomiting was merely the topper to our cake of dysfunction. Gage, having decided to eat six-day-old leftovers for breakfast, forced us to stop at every toilet the Western half of the state had to offer. The viscous layer from Warren's exploding soda refused to disappear, no matter how many wet wipes we used. I forgot my wallet at home. And a detour took us the wrong way for the better part of an hour.
"I'll take those car sickness pills now," Lydia murmured.
"It doesn't work that way, Lyds." It was unheard of for Joshua to explode past mild disappointment, though his gauge for self-defeat was quite impressive. Judging by the slack in his shoulders and near-constant lip twitch, that gauge broke a hundred miles ago.
"I can drive the rest of the way."
He calculated my offer and timing. "You were waiting for me to clean up the vomit on my side before you offered, weren't you?"
"Hell yeah."
While Joshua was stuck cleaning the vomit from the passenger side as we rolled down the highway, I leaned back in the driver's seat and hit cruise control. It had nothing on my Mustang, but the Pilot did ride well. It fit our two-thousand parts inside, and that was saying something. We may pack our suitcases light, but our snacks are everlasting.
After Joshua tossed the last soiled baby wipe into a grocery bag and sealed it shut with the might of an Olympian god, we attempted to relax. That worked for nearly two hours as everyone tried in vain to cat nap while I belted out the wrong lyrics to every song that came across the radio.
Joshua finally sat up. "I think we should talk about the job before we get there."
"Shit, I had forgotten we had a job." My hands tightened around the steering wheel. The open road really did agree with me. It was the 'helping the greater community' aspect that my brain struggled with. Some still saw it as a form of intrusion, and I wasn't completely disagreeing with them. I was taught growing up that meddlesome little leopards lost their tootsies. When had the rules changed?
When children died, I silently chided myself.
Joshua sighed. "You blocked out the point of this very trip?"
"I want that superpower," Gage said, pointing my way.
"Sorry, kitty, it's a natural born talent." I smiled, ignoring the fear slithering behind my eyelids.
"Womp womp," Warren chimed in, still nuzzled against Lydia. His Black Sabbath shirt was wrinkled beyond legibility.
The smell of vomit wafted heavily through the car. Our heightened sense of smell became ninja-esque in what it chose to identify. Or, in this case, ignore. The yacked up particles of Lydia's daily calories were dead to us, and no amount of reality was strong enough to resurrect it.
"Listen," Joshua lightly commanded, "We are getting ready to walk into a snake den. Let's be the fly on the wall rather than the donkey doing cartwheels in the middle of the room."
Gage snarked, "Dude, what have you been watching? Turn on some Animal Planet. Get right with the world."
Lydia cleared her throat. "Obviously, a donkey has limited physiology. Cartwheels, no. Popcorning, maybe."
Leaning his head over the middle seat, almost cheek to cheek with Lydia, Gage said, "Please explain," in an overly theatrical tone.
"Well," she ventured, "Popcorning is when an animal literally pops up off the ground in succession. Guinea pigs do it. Horses, too. Why not donkeys?"
Gage interjected, "So you're saying you can't turn a donkey into a showgirl, but maybe into a viral meme?"
Thin
king for a moment, she agreed. "I would watch a popcorning donkey meme."
"Look at that, I would, too," he deducted quietly. "Case closed."
Joshua turned to me. "Oh my god, we're always going to be the donkey in the middle of the room aren't we?" He rolled his eyes.
I smiled. We all knew the answer.
Gage relaxed into his seat and waved for Joshua to continue. "We're listening, brother."
"Thanks. The serpentes are very unforgiving. If we make asses of ourselves, we may never be welcomed back. While they share a nest, they are still quite solitary shifters. Tread your paws lightly."
The serpentes were descended from gorgons. Think Medusa and her two partially reptilian sisters. While gorgons were the children of gods, and later cursed, the serpentes have had countless generations of breeding with humans and half-serpentes to lose most of their otherworldly powers, other than the ability to shapeshift.
"If they are so solitary, why do they need a king?" I asked bitterly, knowing this talk was going to ruin my good mood.
"To maintain order that would otherwise collapse into self-absorbed, ego-driven chaos."
"Predictable," I grumbled.
Joshua skimmed a note written by Blaire. "A number of individuals are marked as the future king. Only one will be chosen. Until then, it's our job to protect them from a group of outlier serpentes that do not wish to see anyone ascend the throne."
Gage crossed his thick arms over his chest. "So we cozy into their nest, babysit, and head home for milk and cookies?"
"Pretty much." Joshua scratched at the back of his ear, wrestling with his inner monologue. There was more, and he did not want to be the messenger.
I demanded, "Spill it."
This was the most Joshua had spoken in the last six months. He was usually pretty introverted but proved to be a good briefer on these trips due to his massive well of patience.
"And-" His words died in his throat as he brought the note closer to his eyes, inspecting something at the bottom.
"And?"
Joshua rolled the window down, quickly ripping Blaire's directives to shreds, and tossed the pieces into the eighty-mile-an-hour wind. Rolling the window back up, he sat forward, pretending nothing happened.
Skinned Page 2