Finally, she heard the cry of a bird through the opened window, startling her out of her stupor. She couldn’t see the bird, but the stars overhead and the position of the moon told her it was close to midnight. She grunted as she stood, stretching her stiff, achy muscles. She felt strange. Her skin was tight, like it was restricting her movements, and her blood felt like it was boiling. She sighed. She was probably just tired. She needed to get some sleep anyway. The shop opened at four a.m., and Joanna always worked the first shift.
So she changed into her pajamas, washed her face, brushed her teeth, and braided her hair. She removed her pendant, setting it on her dresser carefully. Then she climbed into bed, slowly drifting off into a fitful sleep.
CHAPTER SIX
Two hours later, Joanna woke with a start. She sat upright, stretching her arms. It didn’t feel like enough. Her arms were too short. She needed to reach farther, but there wasn’t space enough to do it in her tiny bedroom.
She set her feet on the floor, but they heavier than usual, like they were made of lead. Her whole body was expanding, like her insides were too big for her skin. She felt like she was going to burst.
She walked out into the hallway, not even bothering with shoes. She was sure they’d be too small, that her feet had grown while she slept. She looked down, surprised to see that they looked just the same as always, long and bony like the rest of her.
She propelled herself down the stairs, through the kitchen, and out onto the back porch, though she could hardly say how she did it. Her limbs felt awkward, like she was trying to crawl when she ought to walk. Or fly.
She stopped short, smacking into the porch rail painfully. Where had that come from? People couldn’t fly. She knew that. And yet, once the thought had entered her brain, she couldn’t banish it.
She stepped out onto the lawn, still feeling caged in, even on the open-air porch. She needed to move. She needed to… run? Yes, that must be it. She would go for a run.
So she moved her long legs, breaking out into a stilted, stumbling run. She didn’t care that she was barefoot, that she was still wearing her ratty old Power Ranger pajamas that were too small, that it was the middle of the night. She just needed to move.
She picked up speed as she ran out onto the dirt road behind the house, going faster and faster, until she felt like she was flying.
And then she was flying.
She’d felt a pinching sensation just now, as though her insides were rearranging themselves. And then she was airborne. She opened her mouth to shout in surprise, but instead, she let out a piercing cry. It was an inhuman sound, more like a hawk or…
An eagle. She sounded like the bald eagles that she’d sometimes seen circling Blue Lake, when she would take her dad’s creaky old rowboat out on a humid summer afternoon to fish or swim.
She cried out in surprise, but again, it was the piercing shriek of a bird of prey that reverberated back to her.
And she was flying. Though she’d never done it before, though she didn’t know how, somehow, she was flying. She felt the wind blowing cool and heavy between her… feathers? Yes, she had feathers on her arms. No, not arms. Wings. She had wings now.
She circled, some instinct she didn’t know she possessed telling her how to position her wings and her sleek new body so that she banked to the right. She wheeled around, enjoying the sensation of flying. The sensation of freedom.
She flew for a long time, until the sky began to glow pink and the air grew warmer. She realized with a start that it must be well after four. She should be at work right now. Her mother would have had to open the shop on her own, something she’d be furious about. But she couldn’t bring herself to care. Her human self seemed almost insignificant now, in comparison to the majesty of being an eagle.
Eventually her wings grew tired, and she was thirsty. Her sharp eyes spotted a rippling surface ahead, reflecting the bright light of the sunrise. Blue Lake. Without even realizing it, she’d flown up the mountain.
She dived, somehow managing to land without too much trouble, though she did skid for a moment before she got her footing, Her talons seemed to slide through the hard ground like a sharp knife through cheese. She’d have to get used to that.
Because she was a shifter now. She didn’t need to look in the mirror-like surface of the lake to know that she was an eagle. But she was still curious to see herself.
She hopped forward, spreading her wings slightly to steady herself. She swivelled her head from side to side, marvelling. Her wingspan had to be nearly nine feet.
She paused at the shore of the lake, steeling herself. And then she inched forward, looking down at her reflection.
Her mouth opened in shock, and in the lake, her reflection opened its beak. She had a crown of white feathers on her head and neck, almost like a hood, and her body was covered with shiny, dark brown feathers, not unlike the color of her human hair. Her beak was huge and lethal looking, the sharp hook at the end perfect for catching and killing prey, like the fish lazily swimming in the lake below her.
She inhaled sharply through the nostrils at the top of her beak. She was glorious.
She took a longer look, noting every detail, every little variation in the color of her feathers. She preened, revelling in her beauty. Her eyes, she noticed, were the same as her human eyes. Where golden, birdlike orbs should be, she saw her own hazel eyes staring back at her, an odd mix of brown and gray, with flecks of blue. Just like her father’s eyes. She was the only one of her sisters who’d inherited them.
She dipped her head, drinking deeply from the cold, clear water of the lake. Feeling curious, she darted her head out, spearing a fish with her talons. It was so easy that she could have laughed. Just a flick of her foot, and she had snatched the fish. Another flick, and she had snapped it in half. It was easy to see why eagles were at the top of the food chain.
But she was still human enough that the idea of eating a raw fish, bones, scales and all, repulsed her. So she left the fish on the shore, hoping some other predator would find itself lucky to happen across a fresh kill. And then she took off into the skies again.
She headed off in the direction of the city. She wasn’t ready to go home yet, wasn’t ready to face her mother, to explain where she’d been, what had happened. She wasn’t ready to be human again.
Not to mention, she wasn’t entirely sure how she’d even shifted into her eagle self. And she had no idea how to shift back, either.
She wheeled high over the city of Sitka, her eagle eyes taking in the sights. The waterfront was bustling at this hour, with everyone going to work, getting coffee and breakfast, or just out enjoying the morning sunshine. She soared above the docks, watching as a cruise ship came to a stop among the charter boats and pleasure crafts. She moved out over the Sound, watching the commercial vessels as they trawled for halibut and cod.
Something flashed white in the corner of her eye, and she moved closer. A fishing boat, smaller than some of the others, chugged to a stop out in the open water. There were five men on board. Two had white-blonde hair, which must have been what caught her eye. She turned, preparing to fly back to town. Until she saw another of the men standing on the deck of that little fishing boat. A man with dark tanned skin, horn-rimmed glasses perched on the end of his nose.
Sherman.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Joanna flew closer to the boat, almost like she had no control over herself, as though something in the boat drew her in, like a homing signal.
Or someone. She had a better idea now of why she’d been so drawn to Sherman. She thought that maybe her blood had recognized his, one shifter to another. She’d thought from the start that their attraction was almost animalistic. It made her crazy, made her bold and confident and aggressive in a way she’d never been before. It must have been instinct, pulling them together in spite of themselves.
She landed precariously right at the stern of the little fishing boat. She nearly tumbled off when the boat pitched and rolled
on a wave, and she screeched.
Five heads whipped around at the noise, and if she were in her human form, she would have laughed at the nearly identical looks of shock on their faces. Five pairs of honey-colored eyes widened, looking awed and a little fearful. She supposed it was kind of odd to see a bald eagle this far out to sea. Not to mention she was perched on a boat, casual as you please.
“What the fuck?” The nearest man, well-built and with black, shaggy hair, stepped toward her cautiously.
“Is that a bald eagle?” another man said. She looked over at him, noting that he had the same white-blond hair as the man she’d seen in the library last night. He was younger than that man, though, no more than twenty or so.
“I thought they were extinct or something?” the other blond man said, and she realized he was the man from the library. She could see the strong resemblance between the two, and figured they must be brothers.
A man to her right laughed, and she turned her head to look at him. He was middle-aged, maybe fifty, and he looked like an aging biker, with his long, graying ponytail and tattoos. “That’s what I thought, too.”
“No, they’re not endangered anymore. They used to be, but we brought them back through conservation efforts,” Sherman said. She swivelled her head to look at him, nodding her head in appreciation. He was so smart. She’d always had a thing for nerdy guys.
“See? Told you that environmental studies degree would come in handy,” said the older blond man.
His younger brother chucked him on the shoulder. “You’ve literally never said that.”
The biker laughed again. “That’s true. You’ve done nothing but give him shit for it in all the years we’ve known you,” he said. His voice sounded vaguely familiar, but she couldn’t quite place it.
“Guys, this is freaky,” the black-haired man said. He was staring at her with narrowed eyes. “Does it seem like it’s listening to us?”
“Dude, it’s an eagle, not a chimpanzee. It’s not that smart,” the younger brother said.
“Yeah, but look how it’s following the conversation with its head.”
The older man chuckled. “Have you been eating those mushrooms that grow in the backyard again?”
“That was one time, Matthias,” the black-haired man replied with a scowl. “One time. You know I’ll eat anything when I’m the bear.”
Matthias. Matt. She knew she had heard his voice before. That day in the woods, the first day she’d met Sherman. He was the one that had interrupted their passionate interlude.
At that thought, she turned to look at Sherman, unconsciously hopping closer to him. He was watching her thoughtfully, like she was a puzzle he was trying to solve.
“Have you noticed its eyes?” he said.
“That’s what I’m saying, it’s following us with its eyes,” the black-haired man insisted. “It’s listening to our conversation.”
Sherman shook his head. “No, I mean its eyes don’t look like a bird’s eyes.” He stepped closer, and she leaned toward him. “They look like human eyes. Like…”
“Dude, don’t stand so close,” the younger brother hissed. “That beak looks lethal.”
But Sherman ignored him, taking another step toward her. “They look like the eyes of someone I know.”
“Have you been eating those mushrooms, Sherman?” Matthias asked, chuckling.
Sherman stepped closer, until he was right in front of her. She reached out a wing, and he brushed her feathers with his fingertips. Behind him, she heard the other guys gasp and murmur, no doubt shocked at her behavior, at the fact that an eagle had let a strange human touch it. But she only had eyes for Sherman.
“Joanna?”
CHAPTER EIGHT
She bobbed her head, the bird version of a nod, and she heard hisses and gasps from the other men on the boat. But her eyes were still locked on Sherman.
He smiled at her. “Look at you,” he whispered, running a hand gently over her wing. “So beautiful.”
“Dude, why didn’t you tell us you know an eagle shifter?” The younger brother, she guessed.
“Didn’t know she was an eagle shifter,” Sherman replied. “Is that why you knew about me when you saw me?” he asked her.
She shook her head. God, she wished she knew how to change back. She needed to talk to him. She was tired of this pantomime.
“This is stupid. Can you just change back?” the black-haired man asked her, echoing her thoughts.
She let out a cry of distress, shifting from claw to claw.
“For fuck’s sake, stop acting like you can’t!” the younger brother growled.
“Maybe she doesn’t want you looking at her naked, Colton,” his brother shot back. “Have some respect for the girl.”
Now that he mentioned it, she wondered what had happened to her pajamas. Probably shredded, or cast aside if she was lucky, when she changed.
“Or maybe she really doesn’t know how to change back,” Matthias said, shooting her a thoughtful look.
“Or maybe-”
“Enough!” Sherman’s shout cut through the debate, silencing his friends. “Joanna,” he said in a softer tone. “Is this your first time shifting?”
She bobbed her head, letting out a soft cry.
“I don’t buy it. How can this be her first time shifting? How old is she?” the younger brother - Colton, she thought they called him - asked. He was beginning to get on her nerves. Would it kill him to give her the benefit of the doubt?
“I think she’s about my age,” Sherman said. “Maybe a little younger.”
“Ridiculous. I shifted when I was a baby,” Colton said. “Henry did, too.” He gestured to the man with the black hair, so she guessed that was his name.
“I was nine,” his brother offered. “And Sherman said he was twelve.”
“We don’t all change when we’re kids,” Matthias said. “I was twenty-two the first time I shifted.”
“I didn’t know that,” Henry said, surprise coloring his tone.
Matthias shrugged. “Never came up,” he said. “We were too busy trying to survive when we first met to swap stories.”
A dark look passed over the other man’s face. “Don’t remind me.”
“Anyway, back to your lady friend,” the older brother said.
“Joanna,” Sherman corrected.
“Okay, well, Joanna, I’m Finn,” the blond man said, nodding his head at her. “How’s about we get you back to your human self?”
She bobbed her head again, feeling grateful. She was hungry - for human food, not raw fish or snakes or mice or whatever it was eagles ate. And she was so tired she felt like she could sleep for a week.
“Okay, so it’s real simple like. You just will yourself human again.”
She stared at him, wondering if she could get away with raking him with her talons. Or nipping him with her beak. Just a little nip. If it were that easy, she’d be sitting on the deck of the boat, buck naked and shivering, by now. Or she’d be at home, in her bed, curled up under the blankets.
“I’m pretty sure she’d have done that by now if she could,” Henry said drily. She cawed in agreement.
“It’s a little deeper than that, but that’s the basic principle,” Sherman said. “You need to focus wholly on the idea of being human, until it becomes almost an idea in your subconscious. It helps if you close your eyes and visualize it,” he added.
So she squeezed her eyes shut, picturing her human self in her mind. She remembered how the dirt felt between her toes, and how water felt against her skin, and how much the sensation of brushing her hair soothed her. She remembered the feeling of power in her arms when she rowed her dad’s old boat, the way her nose itched right before she sneezed, and the rush of pleasure when she orgasmed.
She felt that same pinching sensation she had earlier, when she’d first shifted. And then she tumbled backward off the boat and into the Sound.
She kicked out with her legs - her legs! - and swam upward wi
th all her strength. When her head cleared the surface, she gulped in clean, cool air. She looked around, relieved to see she was only a few feet from the boat.
Sherman was poised on the stern like he was about to dive in after her. Henry shouted, pointing to her, but Sherman seemed not to hear him. It wasn’t until Matthias grabbed the back of his shirt that Sherman looked up.
By then, she had reached the boat and was climbing up the ladder. When her feet hit the deck, she stood, stretching herself. Relishing the feeling of her human limbs. Then she looked up.
Leeward Bear (BBW Shifter Romance) (Fisherbears Book 3) Page 3