Dying to Live: The Shifter City Complete Series

by Liam Kingsley

  “You were told to rest,” Henry grumbled.

  “I tried,” Killian said as he straightened his spine and turned around to face Henry. “My body doesn’t seem to remember how. I want to run.”

  Snow raised his eyebrows in surprise. “You ran over twenty miles yesterday. How can you possibly be ready to run after four hours of sleep?”

  “Don’t know,” Killian shrugged, doing side-bends and squats to keep his body under control. “Thought maybe you would have an answer for me.”

  “What I have are more questions,” Snow replied with a heavy sigh. Killian noticed dark purple smudges under Henry’s eyes, and wondered when the doctor had last had a good night’s sleep. “What do you remember from yesterday?”

  “Well…I woke up after twenty hours asleep. Talked to Bernadette, talked to you, then the twitching started. I paced my room for a while, but it wasn’t enough. I opened the door to call for you, and just kept going. I tried to go back, but I just paced some more, and the more I paced, the more it burned. I shifted. I wasn’t in control of it. Then I was surrounded by you and everyone else, lots of yelling and screaming….”

  “Skip to the run.”

  “Right, you know that part. Um. There was a thing with my eyes, colors kept changing. I ran until I collapsed, and then….”

  “Yes?” Snow was looking at him with uncomfortable intensity.

  “It was like the first change all over again,” Killian said softly. “Only worse.”

  “I imagine it would be worse,” Snow nodded somberly. “Do you recall what you looked like during the transformation?”

  “A blade of grass,” Killian said with a wry smile. Snow’s brow wrinkled in confusion, and Killian shook his head. “I wasn’t capable of examining myself, doc. You tell me.”

  “I had lost you by then,” Snow prefaced. “But there were footprints around you this morning…the footprints of a wolf.”

  “That’s kind of what we do, Henry.”

  Snow shook his head. “No. Not a beast, not a caricature of a wolf. An exceptionally large canine. Larger than a timber wolf, but the shape was the same.”

  Killian smiled cockily, vindicated by the information. “I knew it.”

  “What?”

  “On the news the other day, they were talking about packs of wolves running through cities. Cities they had no business being in in the first place. I told…I told Lee, you can ask her. I said there was something kindred about them.”

  “Wait. Are you suggesting that the outside shifters have also mutated in this way?”

  “It seems that way,” Killian said with a broad grin.

  “What are you so happy about?”

  “If it’s the same thing, then I’m fine! And Pan’s fine. We’re going to be okay, doc!”

  “How are you coming to that conclusion?”

  “Think about it. If this happened out there, then it happened to the wild shifters. There aren’t any shifter hospitals or doctors or tests or IVs out there, not for us. If they survived this…what is this, the third change? Change two-point-five? Whatever. If they survived this without you at their bedside, then Pan and I are going to be okay. Better than okay, we’re going to be brilliant. This isn’t death, it’s just the next phase.”

  “That…is one possibility,” Henry said slowly.

  “You’re thinking of another?”

  “It’s possible that the wolves you saw were born shifters, or humans who were turned shifter by born shifters. We can’t possibly know if they are turned shifters infected by a born shifter. That particular combination could still be deadly.”

  “Then we have to find out,” Killian said, lunging past the doctor. “I’m going to talk to Broderick.”

  “You’re still under quarantine.”

  “The hell I am, I ran twenty miles yesterday!”

  Snow gave him a look which did not leave any room for negotiation. “I will ask Broderick to call you,” he said firmly. “But you are not to leave this room without a team of us to watch you. My team is resting now, as you should be. Before I leave you, is there anything else you remember from last night?”

  Killian thought hard. There was something, he knew there was. It was just out of reach in his mind, but it felt so very important. He glanced over at Pan again, sleeping soundly against the white pillow. White was wrong, but the posture was right. Muted yellow. Silvery moonlight. Deep shadows. But hadn’t it been just a dream, like all the rest?

  “How did you find us?” He asked.

  “We swept the area with a team of volunteers. Mariella’s people helped, and….”

  “No, I mean, what state were we in when you found us?”

  Snow frowned thoughtfully for a moment. “You were nude,” he said. “Fetal position, about three feet apart and near the larger pond.”

  “Would I have had to be nude in order to shift to full wolf?”

  “No, the clothes would move with you.”

  “I was afraid of that,” Killian said, passing a hand over his face. “Doc, I think…I thought it was a dream, I’ve had that dream before. Over and over again.”

  “What dream?” Henry asked, giving him a sharp look.

  Killian hesitated. This was one confession he’d made before, and it had cost him everything. That was before, in the world of humans, where different and other are epithets, where someone like him was considered a danger to children even before he’d changed. He’d lost his job, ruined his reputation, and had to move counties just to keep teaching. If that happened here, there would be nowhere else to go. It would be over. All of his lesson plans would be useless, all of his insights and knowledge would be vestigial nodes in his brain. But if it had happened, Henry needed to know. Pan’s mouth was already beginning to turn scarlet, and his breath began to come in quick, shallow gasps. That was all the proof Killian needed.

  “I wasn’t in my right mind,” Killian began again. “I swear to god I thought it was a dream. I wouldn’t have…not without some kind of protection. But I’m pretty sure…that is, I think…no, I know that….”

  “Spit it out,” Snow groaned, digging the heel of his hand into his eyes.

  “The second change,” Killian said quickly. “Pan, he’s going into the second change.”

  A combined expression of fear, indignation, and curiosity swirled across Henry’s face in a second, then left. He stared expressionlessly at Killian for a long moment, and Killian shifted his weight uncomfortably.

  “The second change,” Snow repeated. “And the third. Simultaneously.”

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t know it was real, I….”

  “Do you know what this means?” Snow asked coolly.

  Killian shook his head.

  “Neither do I. Pray if you have something to pray to. God only knows if he will survive this.”

  “You don’t think he will?”

  Snow sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “The second change, the Omega change, is always a bit of a gamble. Most of us are hearty enough to survive it, and our research has made survival more likely. This third change is new and utterly unpredictable. It took a full day for your body to give in, shift, and heal. It takes three days for the Omega organs to grow, for their physiology to change. He is cooking from the inside out. All I can do now is try to control his temperature and wait it out.”

  Killian sat down hard, slammed with the implications. He had made his dreams come true and he hadn’t even realized it. The costs were far worse than anything he had imagined. He swept a hand over his face then looked up at the doctor.

  “I need to find out what the outside shifters know,” he said. “There must be at least one person who knows what doubling up on changes will do to a shifter.”

  “You are still in quarantine…”

  “So lift it!”

  “I will not do that.”

  “Why the hell not?”

  “Because you are unstable and unpredictable. You are not in control of your own body. If I let you o
ut of this city…if I let you out of this room, unsupervised, I would be responsible for every human and shifter that you kill. I will not bear that burden, Killian. You are quarantined.”

  “I am in full control of myself,” Killian said through gritted teeth, clenching his fists at his sides.

  “Are you, now? Look in the mirror.”

  Killian glared and whipped his head to look. His eyes were a deep golden yellow, and fur prickled down his spine. He was a human porcupine. Inhaling deeply, he willed the exhibition away, forcing himself to calm down.

  “Sit tight,” Snow said as he turned his back on Killian. “Do whatever you need to do, but stay in this room. I will have Broderick call you as soon as he is able. Maybe he will have a solution.” With that unsatisfying answer, Snow pushed through the door and was gone. Killian paced the room, glancing at Pan every few steps. His pale skin was virtually translucent now, and the scarlet spots on his cheeks and lips had turned a violent shade. The second change, the Omega change, was in full swing. Killian didn’t know how many shifters had died going through this on the outside; even within the walls, they had very nearly lost several shifters to the change. The strain of growing new organs, rewriting DNA and chromosomes, creating a fertile womb within a male body, was nearly too much to be borne.

  Snow returned swiftly with a team of nurses. They inserted an IV into his elbow and surrounded him with sturdy ice packs, then stripped the blankets away, leaving only his thin scrubs in place. The clothes retained very little heat, and would not interfere. Killian chewed his thumb as he watched them work, wishing he could go back in time and rewrite the last two days.

  “Leave him alone,” Snow ordered Killian when they had finished. “The more deeply he sleeps, the faster and more completely he recovers. Read a book. Do your stretches. But if you so much as approach him, I will have him removed from this room. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, doctor,” Killian said, battling the guilt which twisted around his core. “I won’t bother him.”

  “Very good. Give Bernadette a call if your restlessness gets too severe. Broderick is having a fence built along the back end, and we will take you there.”

  “A dog run. Your solution to all this is a dog run.”

  “Broderick’s solution,” Snow corrected. “Mine was to sedate you indefinitely.”

  “Thank god for Broderick,” Killian said wryly.

  “We shall see.”

  Killian paced restlessly after Snow left, casting a wide net through his imagination to find something, anything that he could do. The jangle of the phone yanked him out of his pensive stalking, and he picked it up forcefully.

  “Ward of the damned, how can I help you?”

  “Glad to see your sarcasm hasn’t suffered any,” Broderick’s booming voice said wryly. “I hear you want to speak with me.”

  “Yes. When will the teams be heading out?”

  “We had decided on the first of the month, but we’re postponing indefinitely.”

  “Why?”

  “Because if your problem is something that we could be carrying, we don’t want to risk infecting the outside shifters.”

  “It’s too late to worry about that,” Killian told him confidently. “The outside shifters are already changing. They’ve gone full wolf.”

  Broderick paused for a long time. “Are you sure?”

  “Positive. They have answers we need regarding Pan’s transformation, and we need to talk to one of them immediately. You need to send Mariella out to catch one of these city wolves.”

  “She’s a rescue professional, not a dog catcher.”

  “A year ago she was a drifter. Girl’s got skills, let her use them.”

  “I’m not comfortable putting her in that position without more information. For all we know, these wolves could be exactly what they appear to be. She would be risking her life and theirs.”

  “You know I respect and admire you, Alpha Thyme,” Killian said, using Broderick’s formal title. “But if you don’t send Mariella out to catch one of these wolves, I’m going to have to do it myself.”

  “You are under doctor’s orders to stay in bed.”

  “I ran twenty miles yesterday. You can stop me if you can catch me.”

  Broderick sighed heavily. “Give me three days. I’ll speak with Mariella and the others, and we’ll work something out. In the meantime, do as Snow says or I’ll have you plowing fields for a month.”

  “In three days it’ll be too late,” Killian snapped. “We need answers now!”

  Broderick sighed heavily. “I’ll talk to Mariella,” he said. “But I can’t promise anything.”

  Broderick ended the call with a string of grumbles, and Killian clenched his jaw. His legs began to twitch, exacerbating his cruddy mood. With a sigh, he stepped out of bed and began his stretches.

  “On the plus side,” he told the unconscious Pan. “By the time we’re done with this crap, we’ll have the bodies of gods.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Pan’s first image upon waking was that of Killian, wearing nothing but a pair of baggy shorts, doing jumping jacks in front of the glass wall. He was instantly, almost viciously, aroused by the sheen of sweat glistening over Killian’s defined muscles and the way his raven curls bounced against his broad shoulders. The arousal ignited the fire in his blood, turning his stomach into a boiling cauldron of acid and making his own muscles twitch. He turned his head away from the glorious sight and curled into a fetal ball. Ice packs, now melted, sloshed around him as he twisted and writhed. A crack of electricity threatened to split him in half, and he growled a throaty scream into the pain.

  “You’re awake!” Killian exclaimed breathlessly. “How are you awake?”

  “Opened my eyes,” Pan muttered. He gurgled another scream as his spine felt crushed by the terrible squeezing in his center.

  “Shit.” Killian stopped jumping and hit the nurse call button on the wall. “Maude, we’re going to need Snow in here right now.”

  “Dr. Snow isn’t in yet. What’s the matter?”

  “Pan is awake.”

  “What?”

  “Did I stutter?”

  “No, I just had something impossible in my ear. Pan is what?”

  “Awake, Maude. He’s awake and he’s in pain, and we need Snow.”

  “I’ll call him.”

  Killian turned away from the wall and looked helplessly at Pan.

  “Is there anything I can do?” He asked, his brown eyes shining with worry.

  “Yeah,” Pan panted. “Go strong-arm Maude for some codeine.”

  “Maude is about ready to eat my face. I think we should wait for Henry.”

  “Okay,” Pan squeaked, curling into another spine-cracking cramp. “No face eating. Face eating bad. God, I’m starving.”

  “For face?”

  “Pizza,” Pan groaned. “Brownies. Ice cream. Oh my god, Taco Bell. Do you remember Taco Bell?”

  “I try not to,” Killian grinned.

  “Yo quiero,” Pan whimpered.

  “I’ll make you a deal. You live through this and I’ll buy you a whole crate full of Taco Bell.”

  “Deal,” Pan panted. “I will, won’t I?”

  “Yes,” Killian said firmly. “You lived through the first change and the third change, you will damn well live through the second.”

  “Always gotta do things out of order,” Pan said. He began to shiver violently, and Killian’s worry grew. Maude approached with a scowl on her face and pushed through the door.

  “Vitals,” she snapped. “Out of my way.”

  Pan wanted to cry when he saw Maude’s hair. The urge startled him. He wasn’t much of a crier, never had been, but at the moment everything seemed to be worth crying over. Maude’s hair and his utter lack of Taco Bell specifically. As she wrapped the pressure cuff around his arm, a blaze of heat spread across his chest from armpit to armpit. The texture of his shirt against his nipples chafed him painfully, a welcome distraction from the
heavy, pulsing, grinding pain in his belly. With every violent contraction, he felt as if his spine would snap in two. He understood then why shifters slept through this, and wondered why he hadn’t been granted the same favor.

  “Stats,” Snow barked as he entered the room.

  “Temperature 102. Blood pressure 140 over 90. Heart rate 100BPM.”

  “How do you feel?” Snow asked quickly as he rushed over to Pan’s side.

  “I’m starving. My spine is being crushed by cramps. My chest hurts. I want to cry.”

  “Where in your chest?”

  “Not in, on. Over. Something. The pectoral area.”

  “Why aren’t you asleep?”

  “Trust me, doctor, I wish I was.”

  “Take off your shirt, please.”

  “Why?”

  “I need to check your wound,” Snow said briskly. “Keep still.”

  “It’s just my finger,” Pan reminded him, but did as he was told.

  “Not anymore,” Snow said. “Look.”

  Pan looked, and quickly turned away, squeezing his eyes shut. The black webbing had spread up his arm, bringing with it the cracking, peeling, red and white skin dotted with little yellow blisters. Curiosity overwhelmed Pan and he hesitantly opened his eyes. He almost screamed at what he saw; the rash had spread across his entire torso, splitting his skin in jagged lightning bolts across his pecs and just under his belly. Even the doctor seemed shocked. Snow gloved his hands and touched him, beginning under his arms and moving around in twin spirals to his chafed and aching nipples. Pan winced as the doctor’s fingers put pressure on a dozen hard, swollen balls which had formed under his skin. The doctor pushed him flat on his back and began a similar pattern over the red splotch which had grown between his hips. Pan could have sworn that he was digging his fingers all the way through his body as pain radiated from his core.