Soulshifter

by Barbara Pietron

  She scrutinized him for a moment, considering the offer. “Are you a good driver?”

  “Uh, yeah. I drove around my grandparents’ farm way before I took Driver’s Ed.” He reached for her keys.

  Natalie closed her fist. “Are you careful?”

  Jack huffed, but the corners of his mouth curled upward. He looked out toward the gas pumps, considering, and then settled his gaze back on Natalie’s face. “Definitely, considering I’m always driving someone else’s car.”

  “Okay.” She opened her fist over his palm.

  As they climbed inside, Jack handed her the bag of Cheetos. “Am I allowed to eat and drive? I might get orange stuff on your steering wheel.”

  “I have napkins. Try to keep the cheese on the wheel to a minimum.”

  About a half hour from home, Natalie’s phone buzzed. “Shoot. My dad wants me home. Now. Client dinner.”

  “Client dinner?”

  “Yeah,” she muttered. “I shouldn’t have to go. I’m not his wife.”

  “Won’t your mom be there?”

  Natalie snorted in disgust. “My so-called mom left when I was seven.”

  “God. Sorry.” Jack felt like an idiot.

  “Don’t be. You didn’t know.” Natalie’s thumbs flew over her phone screen. “Can you speed a little?”

  Jack gave her an amused glance.

  “Not enough to get a ticket though. I told him we need to put some stuff away and then I’ll head home. Ooo—what about you? How far are you from my house?”

  Jack’s heart skipped a beat. “Not far at all.”

  Natalie put her head back on the seat and sighed. “Sometimes I wish he’d get remarried. I’m tired of trying to be two people.”

  “Does he date?”

  “No. He buries himself in his job.”

  Jack wasn’t sure what to do. If she needed to talk, he was okay to listen, but he felt like their friendship was too new for him to pry into her past.

  “I guess it’s partly my fault. When my mom left, my dad was heartbroken. I felt so bad for him that I took over a lot of the things she used to do, you know, so he wouldn’t miss her so much.” She laughed. “I guess that was my way of burying myself in work.”

  The playlist ended. Natalie turned off her iPod and stuffed it into her purse. She didn’t turn on the radio. After a few minutes of quiet, Jack figured he’d put a question out there. If she didn’t want to talk, she’d say so. “Do you miss her a lot?”

  A silence stretched out and Jack thought maybe he should have just kept his mouth shut, but Natalie must have been mulling over her reply. “I miss… having a mom. But honestly, I might feel that way even if she’d stayed. It’s kinda hard to explain.” She took a deep breath. “My dad used to travel and move around a lot. He met my mom in Dubai and I was born there. I don’t think they intended to have kids—at least not at that time. Anyway, we lived a few other places and then my dad took the job here, to settle down once I’d started school.”

  Natalie had the cord for her iPod in her hand and she kept twisting it around her finger as she spoke. “She couldn’t take it—settling down, I mean. She married my dad because she loved the excitement of his transient lifestyle. Putting down roots in a small town was never her dream. We both knew it—my dad and I. It hurt when she left, but I can’t say we were surprised.” Jack felt her gaze on him and searched for something to say. “Sorry, I’m sure that’s more than you wanted to know.”

  “I want to know anything you want to tell me.”

  “You do?”

  “Sure. Why wouldn’t I want to know you better?” He felt her stare. “What?”

  Her mouth twitched up at the corners. “Nothing.”

  As he turned onto Red Apple Road, Jack had an idea. He pulled into the lot in front of a farm stand that was closed for the evening.

  “Switch?” Natalie asked.

  “I’ll walk from here. You get home.”

  “No. It’s not right. Do you live close by?” She swiveled her head around taking in the distinct lack of signs of other civilization.

  “Right up the road.” Jack pointed. “I can call my dad, but it’s no big deal just to walk.”

  Natalie’s anxiety about getting home worked in his favor. “All right then. Talk to you later?”

  Jack nodded. “Yeah. Go.”

  He waved as she pulled back onto the road.

  His street was only about a half mile away; his house another quarter mile. Jack set off toward the sunset—western Michigan’s claim to fame. On the shore of Lake Michigan, watching the sun go down over the water was like watching a sunset over the ocean. Miles and miles of uninterrupted horizon.

  Only a few miles from the lake, Jack caught a glimpse of the water as he crested a hill, the sun a red half-circle floating on the surface. It would be dark before he got home.

  The name of the street that dead-ended at his house was Bittersweet. Funny, that’s kind of how he felt about it. They lived in an old farmhouse. Not the big, rambling kind—a tiny one. It had two stories: a small kitchen, living room and bathroom on the first floor and two bedrooms on the second floor. Since Jack and his little brother Jase shared a room, their parents gave the boys the bigger bedroom.

  The overgrown property hadn’t been farmed for decades and the barn roof had caved in long ago. Behind the house was an old chicken coop they kept in reasonable repair and used as a shed. Alongside the coop was a newer barn-like garage. Jack was old enough when they moved to take off by himself and explore, so he felt the acre and a half of property made up for the house’s lack of square footage. The brook that trickled across the northwest corner of their tract soon became his favorite hang-out.

  His only reservation was having friends at his house. Since the bus ride to school revealed the subdivisions other kids lived in (though none were as affluent as Natalie’s) Jack was reluctant to invite anyone over. He let others volunteer their homes for group projects or suggested public places to meet. Only those he knew well, like Wes, had been to Jack’s house. His home was his haven and he preferred to keep it that way.

  The sun had slipped below the horizon, sucking the residual light along with it. The intermittent buzz of traffic on Red Apple Road faded as he started down Bittersweet Lane. Most of the sparsely scattered residences were set back from the road. A few open plots of land provided occasional relief from the surrounding forest and thick underbrush.

  The scuffle of footfalls on loose gravel broke the silence.

  Jack turned, but darkness cloaked the road. Whoever—or whatever—made the noise, was too far behind for him to make out. He continued on his way, increasing his pace slightly, ears tuned to pick up the sound. The intermittent scratch on the hard packed dirt or rattle of rocks seemed to increase in frequency and grow closer. Jack concluded it was a dog. Most people out here owned at least one four-footed friend and it wasn’t unusual to see them trotting down the road. Good thing the uneven road surface encouraged drivers to proceed slowly.

  Peering again into the gloom behind him, Jack adjusted his sightline lower to the ground and picked out the shape of a large dog. He guessed it must be black or dark brown since it blended with the night.

  “Here, boy.” He searched his memory of neighborhood dogs, trying to fit size and color—and ideally—a name. He wouldn’t mind a little company for the rest of his walk. The Lemenors had a black lab, didn’t they? Another glance at the black form revealed the outline of a raised muzzle scenting the air. No, too big for a lab. Maybe the Havers—

  Jack watched as the head lowered, and he met the animal’s glowing red eyes.

  His next thought ran through his brain in slow motion: there wasn’t anything in the area to reflect that color.

  Then he heard a low snarl.

  He ran.

  Ahead of him, the porch light on his house resembled a small flashlight.

  The sound of the creature’s pursuit changed in cadence. Jack risked a glance over his shoulder, and caught th
e loping gait of the animal behind him.

  Dogs didn’t run like that. A cat might, though.

  A very big cat.

  A surge of adrenaline spurred him along faster. Jack clawed at his jacket, fumbling for the phone in the pocket. He bobbled it once, caught it and clutched it to his chest. He didn’t dare try to enter his passcode—it would slow him down. What he needed was some kind of temporary refuge, but Jack was thoroughly familiar with the property flashing by beside him. He knew there was nowhere to hide.

  The cat was right behind him. He didn’t look—the prickles on the back of his neck told him all he needed to know. He couldn’t afford to slow down.

  The details of the porch illuminated by the light next to the door were coming into focus. “Help!” he yelled, panting. “Mom, Dad, help…”

  Nothing changed at the house. Jack realized he had no idea if his family was even home. If the door was locked, he’d never get his key into it before he was attacked.

  “Help,” he screamed again, though his breath came in ragged gasps.

  Whether real or imagined, Jack felt the heat of the animal behind him. His eyes darted to the garage. The large opening simply looked dark. The door was black—sometimes it was hard to tell if the door was up or down even from the house windows. Jack decided it was a better bet than the house. He made a quick dash to the right, hoping to throw the cat off for even a second, reaching deep for the strength to make it to shelter.

  Hope swelled for a moment as the shadowy form of his dad’s pick-up became visible in the garage opening. He could jump into the truck. It wouldn’t be locked. He could make a ca—

  A terrific weight slammed him face down into the dirt. Knives of fire pieced his shoulders.

  He weakly lifted his head toward home, hoping to see someone coming to the rescue.

  The porch light winked out.

  Chapter 5

  Underworld Guardian

  Jack cracked his eyes open. Six inches in front of his nose a cherub-round face peered anxiously over the mattress. Jack rolled in an attempt to rise up on his elbow and grimaced in pain. A chubby hand reached up to push him down.

  “Mom says you’re supposed ta lay down.”

  “Okay.” Jack managed a little smile. “Go tell Mom I’m awake.”

  “Uh-uh. I’m on Jacky watch. It’s important.”

  “I promise not to move until you get back.”

  Jase’s face regarded his brother seriously. “Better not.”

  “I won’t.” But Jase was already out the door and bounding down the stairs.

  He was back a minute later with Jack’s mom trailing behind him. She sat on the edge of his bed like he was a little boy. A worry crease indented her forehead. “How do you feel?”

  “I don’t know. I wasn’t allowed to move.”

  Her smile didn’t entirely erase the furrows on her brow. “Your brother’s been watching over you—he was worried.”

  Jack groaned as he sat up. “Sore.”

  “You’re pretty bruised up. Luckily your father scared the cat off right after it knocked you down.”

  Jack flexed his shoulders. He could feel bandages. “So it was a cat?”

  “Apparently.” His mom put her hand on his forehead. “Dad said it looked like a big black panther.” The creases reappeared on her forehead and she didn’t meet his eyes—there was more she wasn’t saying. She felt his cheek to divert the conversation. “You don’t seem to have a temperature.”

  “Is Dad home?” He’d get answers from his dad.

  “He’s at the Millers’ helping them fix their tractor. He should be back for lunch.” She rose. “Hungry?”

  “Starving.”

  “I’m making pancakes. I’ll bring some up.”

  “No. That’s all right. I’ll be down in a few minutes.” He couldn’t afford any lost time if he wanted to rescue Emma. The sooner he convinced his mom he was okay, the better.

  His mother considered him, chin resting on her hand. “Don’t push it, Jack. Send Jase if you change your mind.”

  Jack sifted through the clothes that had migrated to the bottom of his bed and found a t-shirt. Over the head wasn’t so bad, but the bandages on his shoulders and his bruised torso made it difficult to maneuver his arms into the sleeves. He grunted in frustration and pulled the shirt off.

  Jase looked up from the Transformer he’d been fiddling with on the floor. “Want me to tell Mom?” He was already on his feet.

  Jack reached for a button-up shirt from the bedpost. “No.” He produced a smile for the worried six-year-old as he stuck his arm into a sleeve. “Just pull this shirt over my bandages for me.” Jack turned and squatted down, noticing his legs felt fairly normal despite his slightly banged up knees. Jase wrapped the shirt across Jack’s shoulders, making it easy for his big brother to slip his other arm into the sleeve. Then Jack recovered his sweat pants from the floor in front of the closet.

  On the way downstairs he discovered his ribcage and back really ached, making the ladder-back chairs in the kitchen tortuous. He opted to eat on the couch. After the pancakes he called Natalie.

  “How was the client dinner?”

  “How do you think? Boring.”

  Jack chuckled. “Mmm. Don’t know which was worse, my night or yours.”

  “What can suck more than an evening with your father’s business associates?”

  “A panther attack?’

  “Right. Seriously, what did you do last night?”

  “I got attacked by a panther. Really. Well, knocked down anyway. Hard enough that I’m hurting today.”

  “Chee… uh… geez, are there even panthers around here?”

  “There shouldn’t be. Unless one escaped from a zoo. Otherwise, I think it’d have to be a black cougar. Except it seemed too big for that. I don’t know. I’m waiting to talk to my dad about it. He saw it too. He scared it off.”

  “Jack! I knew I should’ve driven you home.”

  “Oh come on, what are the chances? I walk places all the time. Besides, I’m fine. I’m more worried about how to get Dan Manning to help me. I think I should just go to his house and convince him that Emma can be saved—that she deserves to be saved. If you don’t mind, could we go over the things you told me about Emma?” He caught movement from the corner of his eye and noticed his mom gesturing at him. “Hang on a minute.” Jack pressed his phone to his leg. “What?”

  “You’re not going anywhere today.”

  “What? Why? I’m fine.”

  Standing in the kitchen doorway, she regarded him with eyebrows arched high on her forehead. “Who do you think bandaged you up?”

  “I’m just sore. Come on, Mom. This is important.”

  She considered him a moment longer. “I’ll discuss it with your dad when he gets here.” She turned on the last word, closing the conversation.

  Jack put the phone back on his ear. “Son of a b—” He broke off, remembering who he was talking to. “Uh sorry, looks like I got a few hours to figure this out before I can go see Dan.”

  “Do you think he’d talk to me?”

  Jack heard a knock at the front door and watched as his mom crossed the room to answer it. “No offense, but if he won’t help a member of the sect, I can’t see him doing anything for you.” His mom stepped back and Brody entered the house. “Hey, I’ll call you back okay? My adviser’s here.”

  Jack set the phone down as Brody sank into an armchair. “Your dad called me this morning. How do you feel?”

  “Like I was on the losing side of a cage fight.” Jack flexed his shoulders and winced. “The claw marks are the worst. The rest are just bumps and bruises.”

  The older man’s gaze assessed Jack. Apparently satisfied with his student’s well-being, he changed the subject. “Bring me up to speed. How’d things go in Harbor Springs yesterday?”

  Jack relayed their conversation with Ron as well as the encounter with Eric. He ended with his walk home.

  “Sounds like you made a
lot of progress yesterday. Zalnic couldn’t have been too pleased.” Brody spoke softly, glancing quickly toward the kitchen. “How well did you see the animal?”

  “Not very good. It was dark and the cat was so black it kept disappearing in the shadows.”

  “Tell me what you remember about it.” Brody’s face tensed in focused attention.

  “At first I thought it was a dog—maybe a black lab. Then I realized it was too big. I was thinking about Haverson’s bull mastiff…” Jack searched his memory for details. “Then I saw it sniff the air. The nose was too blunt to be a dog’s nose. Then it…” Jack trailed off. The clatter of dishes and running water came from the kitchen.

  Brody waited expectantly.

  “It looked at me.” Jack’s eyes bugged out as he remembered. “Its eyes—they were red.” How could he have forgotten that?

  “A reflection?”

  “No. I thought of that also. But there’s nothing out there. Nothing that would cast a red reflection.” The details of the incident suddenly flooded his memory and Jack shuddered, recalling the terror of the chase.

  His teacher closed his eyes for a moment. “I suspected as much.”

  “Suspected what?”

  “Remember I warned you? Zalnic will try to scare you off.”

  “He sent a panther?”

  “Not a panther Jack, a hellcat. That’s why your dad called me.”

  Jack paled. Hellcat? A guardian of the underworld?

  His eyes grew wide as the thought of Kyle’s artificial limb struck him. “But… Kyle…” He stammered, lifting his arm to convey what he didn’t dare utter aloud. His gaze shifted to his mom standing at the kitchen sink, her back to them. Fear streaked through his chest.

  A light dawned in Brody’s eyes as he comprehended Jack’s unasked question. He shook his head. “Not the same up here,” he murmured.

  Jack let out the breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. He wasn’t poisoned. Still, the full impact of his dangerous undertaking left an impression. Did he really want to go through with this? For a girl he didn’t know?

  Shera. He had to keep his eye on the prize.

  And what about Natalie?